Shattered (LOST #3)(80)

Instinctively, Sarah shook her head, denying his words.

“We had to pry through a paper trail about fifty miles long,” Wade continued, “but we tracked the place back to him.”

If Jax had owned the place, he would have told her . . . right?

“You know that Jax Fontaine is capable of murder.” Those soft words came from Victoria.

She did. She knew he could kill but . . .

Sarah stood. “It’s wrong.” I won’t let this doubt eat me alive. I have to trust someone!

And that someone wasn’t going to be her father.

“Jax was enraged when my father made his big revelation.” She’d never forget the sight of him going across that table. “He didn’t know until that moment.” His reaction couldn’t have been fake.

“Are you sure?” Victoria asked.

Trust . . . trust . . . Jax’s face flashed in her mind. She remembered the way he’d held her when she’d woken after her nightmare. The way he’d rushed into that fire even when she screamed for him to leave.

He could’ve rushed in because he knew he was safe. Because he’d told one of his men just where and how to attack in order to set off the explosives.

Sarah gave a hard, negative shake of her head. “He didn’t know,” she said again. “My father knew, and Charlene knew.”

“Charlene?” Emma stepped forward. “The woman who raised Jax? How did she knew his real parents—”

“She was his real mother.” And Sarah hadn’t told Jax that. Because he’d already been hurting enough. To find out that his real mother had committed suicide, that she’d been the one abused with him for so many years . . . “It’s possible she told someone else. Or that Mitch Fontaine told somebody. Someone knows about Jax’s past, and that person is using it against him.” She rubbed her temples. “Using it to set him up.”

“Maybe the guy is just fucked in the head,” Wade offered with an exasperated wave of his hand. “Maybe he’s—”

“He’s more than you think.” She rose from the couch. Paced to the window. Stared out. “There is more going on here than we see. The perp out there . . . I still think he’s using Jax. I think he wants to destroy Jax just as much, if not more than he wants to destroy me.”

She put her hand on the glass. It was slightly cool to the touch. The city was a hum of activity below her.

“Is that why you called us in?” Gabe asked as he paced toward her. “Because you thought Jax might be in danger and you wanted to put some distance between the two of you? The same way you tried to ditch all of us?”

“I just want you all safe.” She wanted to protect them all.

“Yeah, we figured out why you were trying to ditch us,” Gabe added.

Sarah glanced over at him. Eve was beside him. Her eyes were worried. “You were shot,” Sarah said to Gabe. “Eve wasn’t exactly going to forgive me if something else happened to you.”

Gabe threaded his fingers with Eve’s. “Do you think I’d forgive myself if something happened to you?” Gabe asked her. “We’re a team, Sarah. And we stick together.”

Yes, they did. She knew they would have her back, but . . . who would be watching Jax’s back?

JAX TURNED OFF the alarm at his house. He stood there a moment, just inside the doorway. The place was big and empty and dark, dark even with the faint sunlight streaming through the windows.

I lost Sarah.

After all the shit that had gone down in the last twenty-four hours, that was the part that jarred him the most. Sarah. She’d been afraid when she looked at him.

Emma had been afraid of him, too. She’d run.

Charlene had been afraid. She’d died.

Everyone who feared him . . . they left.

Sarah was gone now, too.

Fucking . . . Sarah.

He slammed the door shut behind him. He looked up at that staircase, but, no, he didn’t want to go upstairs. If he did, he’d just see Sarah there. In his bed. He’d smell her scent in the air. Sweet vanilla and—

There was a scent in the air. Only it wasn’t sweet and it sure as shit wasn’t vanilla. His nose burned as he stepped forward.

It was heavy, rank . . .

Jax started climbing the stairs. The scent deepened. It was definitely stronger up above.

He stopped at the landing. The smell so strong up there. But it wasn’t coming from his bedroom. The bedroom was empty. He glanced around.

The bathroom door was ajar. He pushed it open a little more. The rancid smell was thick enough to choke him.

He wasn’t really surprised when he saw the body. After all, that particular scent was pretty damn unmistakable.

The body was spread on his bathroom floor. It looked like the man had been shot in the shoulder and his throat had been cut.

From ear to ear.

The man’s bald head gleamed.

“Sonofabitch.”

Ron Tate was dead on his bathroom floor.

Jax just stared at that body a minute. “I told you to run fast,” he muttered. But Ron had obviously thought Jax was the only one after him. And the cops were going to think he was the one who’d gone after Ron, too. He’d already been booked for assaulting the man once.

Now the guy was dead, in his house.