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Chase presses a kiss to the top of Tilly’s head, his eyes squeezing shut. I look at her little body tucked in her pajamas. At the stuffed animal trapped beneath one arm. At a little girl who deserves a childhood untouched by this kind of pain.

My brother’s eyes meet mine over the top of her head. Neither of us says a word. We don’t have to. But we both know we’ll do our best to give her the childhood neither of us had, far away from addiction and abandonment.

31

PEYTON

I’ve rehearsed what to say to Ollie in my head at least twenty times while sitting curled up in the corner of Soph and Jax’s couch. Soph is beside me, half watching some baking show with the volume turned down. Every now and then, she says something annoyingly insightful, making me want to throw a pillow at her. Mostly because she’s right.

Ollie's loyalty to his family has been carved into his bones, rooted in all the things he survived before I met him. He doesn't know how to stop showing up for the people he loves, even after they've given him every reason to walk away. It's what makes him Ollie. And I love that about him. The guilt of walking away has been gnawing at me since I woke up this morning. But we needed the space.

On the other side of Soph, Jax scrolls on his phone with one ankle crossed over the other, when ringing cuts through the room.

He answers immediately. “Yeah?…You okay, Chase?”

Something in the serious way he asks it makes every muscle in my body go tight. Soph notices too. She straightens beside me as Jax listens in silence.

“What happened?” A pause. “Is she okay?” Another pause, longer this time. Then, “I’m coming.” Jax lowers the phone and looks straight at me. “Get your shoes on.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Ollie and Chase need us…well, you.”

I shove my mug onto the coffee table so hard tea sloshes over the rim and onto the wood. “What happened?” I ask again, louder this time.

Jax is grabbing his keys from the dish by the door. “I don’t know exactly. What matters is that Ollie needs you there, Peyton.”

“Is it Tilly?”

“No, she and the guys are okay. Well, as okay as they can be…” His words trail off. “We should go.”

I jam my feet into my shoes, stumbling in the process. Whatever apology I had been planning all day vanishes, swallowed whole by the panic rising inside me.

“Do you want me to come?” Soph asks from the couch.

Jax shakes his head once. “Stay here in case we need anything else.” He walks to his partner and kisses her quickly. “Love you, darling.”

He’s halfway down by the time I catch up, and I follow him so fast I nearly miss a step. Cooling evening air rushes over me the second we hit the street. His motorcycle, Isla, is parked at the curb, black paint catching the last streaks of daylight.

With an easy motion, Jax swings one leg over the bike and holds out the spare helmet. The engine roars to life beneath us as I sit down, put it on and grip tightly onto him. Then we’re moving. Brooklyn streaks past in smears of headlights, storefront windows and passing people.

When we pull up outside the shop, I’m off the bike before it fully settles. My legs feel strange under me, all adrenaline and dread. Chase meets us at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes red and his cheeks damp. His usual easygoing expression is nowhere to be found.

“Are you okay?” Jax asks him and the younger guy just nods, not saying a word. “Where’s Ollie?”

Chase points upstairs and I keep pace right behind Jax. Every second without an answer twists my stomach tighter. A dozen terrible possibilities race through my mind, each one worse than the last. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything except the sound of our footsteps.

The apartment door upstairs is unlocked. Jax pushes it open. “Ollie? You here?”

A strangled sob comes from the living room. Jax glances back at me, and steps aside for me to move past him. I round the corner and stop so abruptly I nearly lose my balance.

Ollie’s sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. His legs are bent awkwardly in front of him—one knee tipped sideways, the other drawn close. And he’s crying big, fat tears. He keeps rocking, shoulders jerking with the muffled sobs that make my own throat tighten instantly. Tilly’s next to him, looking okay at first glance.

Jax moves before I do, crouching a foot away. “Is the baby okay?” Ollie nods once. “Are you physically hurt?” A rough shake of his head. Jax looks at me. “I’ll be downstairs with Chase. Call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

Ollie makes a broken sound that might be an agreement or just another attempt to breathe through whatever is crushing him. Jax’s footsteps retreat down the hall before we’re left alone. I’m moving before I think better of it, dropping to my knees beside Ollie on the rug.

“Handsome, please talk to me.”