Page 47 of Jax & Knox

I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do.

So I just reach out and ruffle his soft hair, emotion lodges behind my sternum. "Yeah, buddy. I'm here."

Ainsley's eyes are shining with unshed tears, and I can see the emotion warring on her face, hope, fear, something that looks like longing.

"Knox," she whispers.

"It's okay," I say quietly. "If he wants to call me that… I'm not going anywhere."

She nods, blinking rapidly, and turns back to finish buckling Owen in. Her hands are shaking.

I want to pull her into my arms. I want to tell her that this is real, that we're not going anywhere, that she and Owen are ours now.

But I don't. Not yet.

Instead, I close the truck door and walk around to the driver's side, my pulse stutters as I close the door.

The drive to Jackson Park is quiet.

Ainsley sits in the passenger seat, her hands folded in her lap, staring out the window. Owen babbles in the backseat, playing with a toy truck Jax gave him last week.

I keep one hand on the wheel and the other on my phone, checking in with Riot and Tiny. They're already in position, watching the park from a distance. Nothing suspicious. No sign of Justin.

Good.

When we pull into the parking lot, Ainsley looks over at me. "You really think this is safe?"

"I know it is," I say. "I've got guys watching. If anything happens, we're out of here in thirty seconds."

She nods, but I can see the tension in her shoulders.

"Hey." I reach over and take her hand. "I've got you. Both of you."

She looks down at our joined hands, then back up at me. "I know."

The park is beautiful.

It's a warm, sunny day, and the playground is full of kids running around, laughing, screaming. Parents sit on benches nearby, watching with tired but content expressions.

Ainsley carries Owen over to the toddler area, and I follow close behind, my eyes scanning the perimeter. Everything looks normal. Safe.

But I don't relax.

I can't.

Owen gurgles happily at the sight of the playground, his eyes wide with baby wonder, reaching for it with both hands. Ainsley lets him look at it, his babbling excited as he watches other children play.

"Careful, baby," she says, hovering close.

I step in and scoop him up, carrying him to the top of the slide. "You ready, little man?"

He babbles happily and reaches for my face.

Something settles warm in my ribs.

I sit him down at the top of the slide and hold his hands as he slides down, his laughter echoing through the park. When he reaches the bottom, he looks up at me with pure joy on his face.

He babbles happily, and I can't help but laugh. This simple joy, his joy, is everything.