And there it was . . . the faintest flicker of hope in the other woman’s stare.

“If you want to be free of Ron, then you need to tell the truth. Because Jax can help you. He can—”

“Sarah, a word,” Wade gritted out. Then he was carefully pulling her away from Ella Jane just as another cop approached the woman. He guided Sarah toward a small alcove. “What. The. Hell? We both know Jax Fontaine is a criminal!”

She wasn’t so sure of that. He hadn’t been charged with anything since his eighteenth birthday.

Maybe because he’s been careful not to get caught.

“The guy is trouble, and you’re selling him as some kind of hero to that poor woman? She needs therapy, you know that.”

Sometimes, therapy isn’t what fixes us.

“We can do this without that guy’s help. We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again.”

Yes, they would, of course. It was just—

I don’t want Jax locked up.

Something was happening to Sarah. Something she didn’t understand. She’d never actually needed anyone before, and this connection she had with Jax, it was burning right through her.

“I’ll get your phone, and then we’ll hit the streets,” Wade said with a decisive nod. “We have to focus on the missing girl. Ella Jane, Jax—look, I know they need help, but they can’t be our priority right now. Molly is the priority. We head out, and we try to retrace her steps from the moment she left that bar. Because she vanished somewhere along that path. We find the spot he took her from, and we could find her.”

Sarah glanced once more toward the door that led to holding. She wanted to force the cops to release him. Wanted Ella Jane to recant. She wanted—

Jax.

Her eyes closed for a moment. Molly. Molly is the priority. Wade is right. Her eyes opened. She’d come back for Jax. She’d fix this mess.

“Let’s go,” Sarah said. She didn’t look at the door to holding again.

I’m sorry, Jax. She had to leave him there.

SHE’D SCREAMED AND she’d cried and she’d bled.

He stared at Molly. Light spilled through the window, falling onto her long, tangled hair. “So now you know,” he murmured.

She didn’t look up at him. Her body was covered with wounds. Small slices that had been designed to make her cry out. Deep puncture marks where he’d cut into her because she tried to stop those sweet sounds of pain from escaping her lips.

“At first, you just want to live,” he told her. “To escape. That’s all that matters.”

She was crying again.

“But soon, the pain becomes too much, doesn’t it? And you just want to let go.”

“Pl-Please . . .” Molly whispered. Oh, sweet Molly. She’d been fun. He’d ever so enjoyed playing with her.

“Do you think your mother gave up before you did?”

Her head sagged forward.

Frowning, he marched toward her. He reached down, intending to grab her chin with his gloved fingers. But when he leaned over her, Molly heaved, surging toward him with a strength he hadn’t expected. Not after all those hours. She sent the chair toppling forward. Molly slammed into the floor, her yell spilling from her.

His head tilted. He suspected Molly had just broken some bones. Maybe even fractured that lovely face of hers. But . . .

“Not . . . ready to die,” she rasped out. “You won’t . . . break me!”

Interesting. “The way Murphy the Monster broke your mother?”

She twisted on the floor. Poor broken Molly.

“Is it true?” he asked her. “Was she an out-of-control junkie? Is that why the cops didn’t look for her, not until it was far too late?” Molly had been so young then. Had she even realized what her mother had really been like?

“She was my mother!”

“Your brother has his mother’s weakness. Slip him some drugs . . . and he’ll do anything.”

She was struggling against her bonds. One of the chair legs had splintered so her left leg was nearly free of the ropes.

“Are you as weak as your brother? As your mother?”

She yelled and struggled harder.

“I don’t think you are,” he said, pleased. That was good. He needed her to be strong. Especially for what would come. He caught a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. “Do you remember my name?”

Tears were leaking from her eyes. “Yeah . . . you’re the devil.” She spat at him.

He drove the knife into her stomach. “Try again.”

“J-Jax!”

He pulled the knife out. “Very good . . .”

Chapter 6

HIS LAWYER HAS BEEN HERE, SO EDDIE WILL probably be making bail soon,” Brent said as he led Jax back to the cells. “You won’t have much time.”

“I don’t need much time.” He rolled his shoulders. His lawyer would be there any moment. “Just make sure we’re not disturbed.”

“I already had the guy moved to a separate holding area. I’ll put you with him.”

Perfect.

Jax didn’t say another word. Other cops passed them, and he sure didn’t want to give those guys any reason to question Brent. The guy had been too useful.

A few moments later, they were in front of a dimly lit cell. Two cots were in that cell. A toilet. And the guy who’d tried to use his knife on Sarah.

Jax stared at the man’s bent head. Eddie Guthrie wasn’t moving at all.

Brent unlocked the cell. Jax took his time stalking inside. When he was clear of the door, Brent slammed it shut behind him. That clang seemed to echo through the cell.

And, finally, Eddie lifted his head. His eye were bleary, confused, as he stared up at Jax.

Brent’s footsteps shuffled away.

“Hello, there, Eddie,” Jax murmured. “We need to talk.”

He advanced. Eddie hunched back against the wall.

“I know you . . .” Eddie whispered. “You . . . you were the one with Sarah Jacobs last night.”

“Yes, I’m with Sarah.” He offered the boy a cold smile. “And I don’t like it when people try to hurt my Sarah.”

Eddie glanced at Jax, then at the cell’s door. Fear and panic fought on his face. In a flash, the guy had lunged off that cot and toward the bars. His fingers curled tightly around them as he screamed, “Guard!”

Jax crossed his arms over his chest as he studied the younger man. Fool. “No one is going to come back here for a while. It’s just you and me.” Until Jax was done with his little talk.

Eddie threw a fast glance over his shoulder. “Guard!” he screamed again.

Some people just didn’t listen well. Jax sighed. “There are two ways this can go down  . . .”

Eddie spun around. Lunged at him.

Jax just sidestepped and the guy hit the wall.

“You can answer my questions and save yourself some energy.” And pain. Because the guy had hit the wall pretty hard. “Or you could piss me off.” He flexed his hands. Then there will be pain.

Eddie rose and his gaze darted to Jax’s hands.

“I can help you,” Jax told him. That part was true. He could help or he could hurt. “Trust me, buddy, you want my help. You don’t want me as an enemy.” The kid should consider himself lucky, especially after the way he’d gone after Sarah. Jax didn’t normally make this offer to many people.

His gaze swept over the younger man. Eddie’s body was quivering. His eyes were bloodshot, and he kept licking his lips. Drugs. Jax shook his head. “Your sister is missing and you are so strung out that you don’t even realize what the hell is happening here!”

Eddie shook his head. “Not missing! That’s a lie!”

“I’ve told plenty of lies.” Jax kept his body relaxed and ready to attack. “And I’ll tell plenty more. But this is the truth. Someone took Molly. She’s tied up, and he’s keeping her hidden someplace. The man’s got a knife. He’s already sliced into her once.”

All of the color bled from Eddie’s face, but he stubbornly cried out. “Lie! You’re lying!” He sidled around the cell. “That asshole Detective West is lying! Molly is fine! You’re all trying to trick me!”