“Let her through,” he said again. Detective Cross was right behind him. So was . . . wait, was that other guy Jax’s lawyer? Yes, she remembered seeing him before.

“I think she should hear this,” Cross said, his face smug.

Sarah’s stomach knotted. Whatever he wanted her to hear, it couldn’t be good.

JAX PACED INSIDE his bar, rage still filling him. No matter what he did, there were always going to be people who thought he was nothing but a criminal. A thug straight from the streets.

He looked down at his hands. Saw the tats there. Remembered the blood that had covered his knuckles before.

Maybe he should be rotting a jail cell someplace. But he’d tried to make a difference. Tried to change.

Let me out! Daddy! Daddy!

His voice, from so long ago. He’d begged and begged, but he’d never seen his real dad again. He’d given up on Jax.

Jax grabbed the tequila. His fingers were tight around the bottle. Sarah was on her way to him. Sarah . . . Sarah believed in him. She didn’t know all his secrets, but she’d still been there, defending him to the cops.

Sarah.

And that bastard is trying to kill Sarah.

He threw the bottle across the bar. It hit the mirror and shattered. No, not on his watch. No one was going to hurt Sarah.

Where the fuck is Carlos? The guy should have been back with Sarah by then. He should have . . .

Jax’s phone rang. He grabbed it, but . . . he didn’t know the number flashing on the screen. Jax lifted the phone to his ear. “Who the hell is this?”

“I’m the man who’s going to slice your Sarah into pieces . . .”

MOLLY GUTHRIE WAS small, bruised and . . . broken. Her eyes were red, bloodshot, and tremors shook her body.

“Look at the pictures,” Brent was telling her. “And I want you to point to the man who did this to you.”

She was staring at the pictures. Biting her lip. Shaking her head. “H-He isn’t there . . .”

Sarah saw Cross tense.

“Take your time,” Brent told her softly. “Look and be very sure.”

Molly glanced up at him. “I—I told you. It was Jax Fontaine.” Her voice was raspy, as if she’d been crying for a very long time and her body seemed to be covered with bandages.

Jax Fontaine’s picture was right in front of her. But Molly didn’t recognize him.

“How do you know it was Jax? I mean, Mr. Fontaine?” Sarah asked.

Molly frowned and glanced over at her. “I . . . I know your voice.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sarah nodded. “Yes, I was the woman on the phone. The one who told you—”

“Not to beg . . . for death,” Molly finished, whispering. She shook her head. “I didn’t. He wanted me to . . . he kept stabbing me . . . but I didn’t.”

And Sarah realized that while Molly was battered, she was far from broken.

“Are you saying . . .” Now it was the lawyer that spoke up. Ty Keith. “ . . . that you don’t recognize the men in any of those pictures?”

“It was Jax! He told me! Jax Fontaine!”

Sarah stepped forward. “That was how you knew. The man who took you said his name was Jax Fontaine?”

Molly nodded. “M-My brother . . . that man said he knew my brother. That Eddie had played at his bars. He was supposed to take me home, but . . . but he lied.”

“Yes,” Sarah said definitely. “He lied.” He lied and told you his name was Jax so that the cops would pick Jax up. So that they’d tie him to the crime. If Molly had survived . . .

The bastard had already had a backup plan in place. And that plan had been Jax Fontaine.

Why?

She didn’t understand—

Sarah’s breath caught.

Is he trying to frame Jax, because of me? Because she’d been with Jax? No, she was still missing something. “Can you describe the man who took you?”

“I did! He was big. Over six feet. With broad shoulders. Blond. His eyes were blue!” Molly’s eyes were tearing up. “What more do you want? It was Jax Fontaine!”

She hated to push the woman. Sarah kept her voice soft and soothing as she asked, “What did his tattoos look like?”

“T-Tattoos?”

The room got very quiet then. The only sound was the beep of the machines to the right of Molly’s bed.

“YOU’RE A DEAD man,” Jax told him.

Laughter flowed over the line. “Is that so? Am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

“You should be.” Something about that guy’s voice was still nagging at Jax. I’ve heard that voice before . . . I’ve heard it.

“I’m not. You’re the one who should be afraid. Afraid you’ll find pieces of her. And that’s going to happen. I’m going to take her away from you. I’ll cut into her, slowly, and maybe I’ll send you those pieces—”

“Stay the fuck away from Sarah!”

Silence, then . . . “Why don’t you make me?”

“I will. Tell me where you are, and I’m there right now.”

“I know what you’ve done, Jax Fontaine. You’re just as much of a killer as I am. As she is . . .”

“Sarah isn’t a killer!” And that was why Jax would handle this. He’d stop the bastard. “Where are you?”

“Do you still scream . . .” that man wanted to know. “Begging at night for a father that just doesn’t give a shit? A father who threw you out because he knew what a freak you were?”

His heart turned to ice in his chest. How the hell did that bastard know about his past?

“Your family threw you out because they knew you were no good. Cast you out . . .” Laughter. “That’s what you thought, anyway. But guess what I know? I know, I know, I know  . . .”

The man’s voice was driving him crazy. “Where are you?”

“I know what really happened. I can tell you . . .”

And I can kill you.

“But you have to come alone and you have to come now.”

“WHEN YOUR ABDUCTOR tied you up, did you see his hands?” Sarah asked carefully.

A furrow appeared between Molly’s eyes. “I did. His hands were tanned, dark . . . like he spent a lot of time outside.”

“There wasn’t anything unusual about his hands?” Brent pushed.

“No . . . no . . . why?” Tears were bright in Molly’s eyes. “Am I saying the wrong thing? I told you who it was! I told you—”

“Jax Fontaine has tattoos on his hands and on his arms. Rather unmistakable tattoos,” Ty said, sounding quite pleased. “So I don’t possibly see how my client could be the man who so grievously attacked Ms. Guthrie here.”

Sarah didn’t think Jax was the man they were after, either, and judging by the way Brent West was watching Molly, he didn’t seem to think so, either.

“But . . . but he didn’t have any tats.” Molly rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t see any.”

“Maybe they were covered with makeup,” Cross said quickly. “You can do that. Cover them with makeup or long sleeves. It could still be him!”

Sarah frowned at him. Didn’t he see what was happening? The man they were after was trying to set up Jax. But she wasn’t going to let him take Jax down.

Sarah’s attention turned back to Molly. She was so pale. “It’s going to be all right,” Sarah said. And as soon as those words came out of her mouth, Sarah winced. They were the words people always said when situations were grim. It’s going to be all right. Things will get better. Little lies that were supposed to make others feel better.

Molly looked up at Sarah. “My brother’s dead.”

And my father killed your mother.

Sarah took a step back. She didn’t want Molly to make that connection. Not then. The woman had been through too much.

“He wanted me to—to suffer . . . just like my mother.”

And her mother had suffered.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah told her.

“I don’t have anything. There’s nothing for me . . .” Tears were filling Molly’s eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

Sarah wanted to reach out to her—

But Brent was already there. He brushed back Molly’s hair. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You beat that bastard. You got away. You’re alive.”