CHAPTER 141
Six months later, I stood in the kitchen of a small house in Vermont, watching snow fall through the window while coffee brewed on the counter. The silence was different here - not the tense quiet of safe houses or the artificial calm of federal protection, but something deeper. Something that felt almost like peace.
Almost.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs made me turn around, and Jax appeared in the doorway, his hair still messy from sleep. He moved carefully around me to get his own mug, the space between us measured in inches but feeling like miles.
"How long have you been up?" he asked, not quite meeting my eyes.
"Since four. Couldn't sleep."
"The dreams again?"
I nodded, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic. The nightmares had started during William's trial - visions of all the children we hadn't saved, all the lives lost while we played legal games in air-conditioned courtrooms. They'd gotten worse after his conviction, when the real scope of his operation became clear.
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
It was the same conversation we'd been having for months. Careful politeness, genuine concern, and underneath it all, the careful distance of people who weren't sure they trusted each other anymore.
Harry emerged from his room a few minutes later, already dressed despite the early hour. He'd been working construction with a crew in town, manual labor that let him exhaust his body enough to quiet his mind. The work was good for him, but I could see the way he watched me sometimes, like he was still trying to figure out who I really was.
"Lucas up?" he asked, pouring coffee into a travel mug.
"Conference call with the lawyers," Jax said. "The civil suits are moving forward."
The victims' families were suing William's estate for damages. Lucas had volunteered to help organize the financial settlements, using his skills with numbers and systems to make sure the money went where it would do the most good. It was important work, necessary work, but it also meant spending hours each day immersed in the details of crimes we'd failed to prevent.
"I should get going," Harry said, grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door.
"Harry," I called as he reached for the handle. "We need to talk. All of us. About what happens next."
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "What do you mean?"
"I mean we can't keep living like this. Like strangers sharing a house because we don't know where else to go."
"You have a better idea?"
"I have a proposal."
That got his attention. He turned around, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. Jax set down his coffee and gave me his full attention for the first time in weeks.
"I've been offered a position," I said carefully. "With a new federal task force focusing on trafficking prevention. International scope, real resources, the chance to actually make a difference."
"Congratulations," Harry said, his voice flat.
"The position comes with the authority to choose my own team. People I trust, people with the right skills and motivation."
Jax was starting to understand. "You're asking us to work with you."
"I'm asking you to help me finish what we started. But this time, we do it right. No more working in the shadows, no more moral compromises, no more choosing between saving some people and sacrificing others."
"And if we say no?" Harry asked.
"Then I take the job alone, and we figure out how to say goodbye to each other properly instead of just... fading away."
The silence stretched between us, filled with six months of unspoken hurt and careful politeness. I could see them weighing the offer, trying to decide whether they could trust me with their futures again.
"What makes you think this would be different?" Jax asked finally. "What's to stop you from making the same choices you made before?"
"Because I learned something during William's trial. Something I should have understood from the beginning."
"Which was?"
"That the mission only matters if the people you love are there to share it with you. That saving the world means nothing if you lose your soul in the process." I looked at each of them in turn. "I lost sight of that. I let the work become more important than the people doing it. And I almost lost everything that mattered."
Lucas appeared in the kitchen doorway, his laptop under his arm and dark circles under his eyes. He'd obviously heard at least part of the conversation.
"Federal task force?" he asked.
"Full authority, unlimited budget, international jurisdiction," I confirmed. "The chance to build something that could actually end trafficking instead of just reacting to it."
"And us?"
"If you want it, you'd be senior operatives. Equal partners, not subordinates. Full input on strategy and operations."
Lucas set his laptop on the counter and studied my face. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. Just the understanding that if we do this, we do it together. No secrets, no unilateral decisions, no sacrificing each other for the greater good."
"And if we disagree on tactics?" Harry asked.
"Then we work it out. Like partners. Like family."
The word hung in the air between us, heavy with everything we'd lost and everything we might be able to rebuild. Family wasn't just about blood or romance or shared trauma. It was about choosing to stand together even when it would be easier to walk away.
"I need to think about it," Harry said finally.
"So do I," Jax added.
"Take all the time you need," I said. "But know that whatever you decide, I love you. All of you. And I'm sorry for the choices I made that hurt you."
As they filed out of the kitchen to start their day, I remained at the window, watching the snow fall and thinking about second chances. About whether love could survive betrayal, and whether trust could be rebuilt from the ashes of good intentions gone wrong.
My phone buzzed with a text from the task force director: "Need your answer by Friday. The Jakarta operation can't wait much longer."
Five days to find out if the family I'd almost destroyed was willing to give me another chance.
Five days to discover if redemption was possible, or if some mistakes were too big to forgive.
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