Chapter Fifty-Two
Jackson
I wake up because my neck hurts like hell. I must’ve fallen asleep sitting up again. The couch creaks when I shift, and my whole back feels like someone beat me with a bat.
It’s worth it, though, having Brooklyn curled up next to me all night.
I glance to where she’s still asleep next to me, curled on her side, with her hand fisted in the front of my sweatshirt like she spent all night making sure I didn’t go anywhere.
Like she was afraid I’d disappear.
Like she still isn’t convinced she’s safe.
I brush her hair back gently and just watch her breathe for a second. She looks tired. Not the kind of tired sleep fixes. The deep kind. The soul kind. But she looks peaceful, too. Or closer to peaceful than she was yesterday.
That’s enough for now.
I slide off the couch slowly and tuck a blanket around her. I head to the kitchen and start making coffee because that’s the only thing I know how to do without thinking. I lean on the counter while the machine starts to hiss, and I call Morris.
He picks up, sounding like he’s been awake since yesterday afternoon. Which, knowing him, he has.
"You got something?" he says.
"She remembered some things last night," I say. I keep my voice low so I don’t wake her. "Not everything. Just flashes."
"Alright. Let her bring it up when she’s ready. You know the drill. No pressure, no pushing."
"Yeah, I know."
There’s a pause. The kind that comes when someone’s thinking more than they’re saying.
"You holding up, Jackson?" he asks.
I let out a breath. Rub my hand over my face. "I will be."
"That’s good enough for now."
We hang up, and I stay standing there for a second, letting the quiet settle. The coffee finishes, and I pour a cup before taking it back to the living room.
Brooklyn wakes slowly, her eyes fluttering a couple of times before she opens them for real. She doesn’t look around, confused this time. She just looks for me. Like, my face is the only thing she needs to reorient herself.
She reaches for me before she’s even fully awake.
I sit on the couch, and she slides into my arms without hesitation. I wrap her up and kiss the top of her head.
"Morning, Baby."
She nods into my chest. Then her voice comes small. "Sorry. I just… needed to make sure you’re still here."
I tighten my arms around her. "I’m here. I’m staying. You’re not going through anything alone. Not ever."
Her breath hitches, and she presses her face harder into my shirt like she’s trying to hide inside it.
Then she whispers it again. The thing that knocked me flat last night. The thing I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear.
"I love you."
I close my eyes. Shit. My heart just gives up right there. If I weren’t already sitting, I’d need to.
"I love you too," I say into her hair. And I mean it like breathing. Like gravity. Like truth.
We sit like that for a while. There’s no rushing or questions, just us being close.
There’s a knock on the door, and Brooklyn tenses instantly, and her breath stalls, shoulders going tight. I can feel the fear hit her all at once.
I stroke her back slowly. "Easy. I got it."
I stand and check the peephole.
Caleb.
I open the door.
He looks rough. Same clothes as yesterday. Backpack slung over one shoulder. Hair messy. Eyes are tired in the way that comes from living on adrenaline too long.
He doesn’t step in on his own. He waits for me to move aside. Respectful. Careful.
"I only came to check that she’s okay," he says.
"Yeah," I say. "Come in."
He steps inside but stays near the door, hands in his pockets like he’s reminding himself not to touch anything.
Brooklyn sits up a little on the couch. She looks tired, but not scared of him. Her shoulders soften just a little.
"Hey," she says.
Caleb nods. "Hey. Good to see you upright."
She laughs a tiny, broken laugh. "Standing is a work in progress. But yeah. Thank you. For the socks. And for…being there."
Caleb shakes his head. "You did the work. I just didn’t walk away."
I hear footsteps from the hallway. Bos shows up first, holding a grocery bag like he’s been waiting for someone to say breakfast. Linc comes next, hair sticking up like he got in a fight with his pillow. Dal is behind him, quiet but watching everything like he’s already prepping for worst-case scenario.
Bos lifts the bag. "Got actual food. Because if Jax was left alone, he’d feed you stale cereal and emotional encouragement."
I snort. "Not untrue."
Linc grins at Brooklyn. "You look better. Still kinda wrecked, but in a heroic survivor way. Like if someone made a movie about you, you’d be the one who gets a sword."
Dal elbows him. "Please stop talking."
"Never," Linc says, absolutely delighted with himself.
Brooklyn laughs again. Real this time. I’d give anything to bottle that sound and keep it. I’d play it when the dark gets heavy.
Caleb shifts his weight by the door, like he’s not sure if he belongs here. His eyes flick to me. There’s something there I haven’t let myself see before. The same fear. The same desperation. The same failure now that it’s too late to prevent the damage.
Something hot sparks in my chest. Anger. Guilt. Frustration. All tangled.
And I know exactly where it’s pointed.
"How’d you get the address?" I ask.
Caleb doesn’t flinch. "Linc gave it to me."
I look over at Linc.
He lifts both hands. "He asked if she was okay. I told him where to find us. He wasn’t gonna show up with bad intentions."
I don’t answer. I turn back to Caleb.
"You should’ve come forward sooner," I say. It comes out rough. Hard. "You’d been tracking him. You knew he was out there and you didn’t say anything."
Caleb’s jaw tightens. "I tried. You think I didn’t go to the cops? I went. I begged. They told me I didn’t have enough. They told me my sister’s past made her unreliable as a victim. I wasn’t exactly taken seriously."
"You could’ve come to me."
"Would you have listened before Brooklyn?"
The room goes dead quiet.
Something snaps. And I know it’s my temper before my body even moves.
I shove him.
He shoves back.
We crash into the counter, and coffee sloshes. Bos curses. Brooklyn is shouting something, but I can’t hear it past the roaring in my head.
Then Brooklyn steps right between us.
Bare feet on the wood floor. Shoulders shaking. Tears on her face.
She looks at both of us, and her voice cracks. "Stop."
Everything halts.
I drop my hands. Caleb steps back. The fight dies instantly because hurting her is the last thing either of us would ever do.
Linc is instantly beside her. Not touching her. Just there. Solid. Ready.
Dal puts a hand on my shoulder, grounding me. Bos grabs Caleb’s arm to make sure he doesn’t stumble into her.
I kneel so I’m eye level with her.
Her voice is shaking. "Please don’t fight. Please. I can’t watch people fight over me. I can’t. I can’t do that again."
My heart breaks open. No repair kit. No glue. Just broken.
"I’m sorry," I whisper.
Caleb nods. "Yeah. Me too."
Brooklyn wipes her face, breath trembling like she’s barely holding the ground under her feet.
Caleb shifts his backpack up. "I just needed to know she was okay. That’s all."
He starts toward the door.
"Caleb," I say.
He stops.
Not turning. Just waiting.
"Thank you," I say. "For helping her when I didn’t get there in time."
He nods once.
Then he leaves.
The door closes.
Brooklyn exhales, and it sounds like she’s been holding that breath since the woods. I pull her into me, and she sinks into my chest, shaking.
Linc rubs her back. "You’re home," he says quietly. There’s no joking from him this time, just truth.
Bos heads to the kitchen. "I’m making eggs. Nobody argue."
“Don’t you guys have wives at home that miss you?” Brooklyn asks, trying not to sound ungrateful.
“We do,” Bos says, poking his head out from the kitchen. “But they understand.”
“They asked if they could come,” Linc adds. “They wanted to see for themselves that you were okay, but we told them that you needed time and too many people, including the kids, might be too much so soon.”
“Thank you,” she mutters as she tucks herself into my side.
Dal looks at me. "You alright?"
I nod once. Still holding her. "I am now."
And I mean it. Every damn word.
I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know when the man who took her will come back into the picture. I don’t know how many nightmares we still have to face.
But she’s here.
I’ve got her.
And I’m not letting go.
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