Page 39 of My Fixation

“Franklin?” Jaxon asks, glancing between us.

“Our family chef,” she says with a small smile. “He’s wonderful. I had him prep a few meals for you, and I stocked the fridge with some healthy snacks.”

Her attention shifts to me, her expression sharpening. “Conor, you had next to nothing in there.” I don’t even try to argue.

“I’ll make sure he has what he needs,” I say, my voice even. And I mean it.

“Thank you, Mrs. Murphy,” Jaxon says, a small, tentative smile pulling at his lips.

“It’s no problem, dear,” Mom answers, her own smile warm and easy.

Ronan drags a chair out and straps a small booster seat onto it, lifting Ollie in without much effort. The kid ends up right next to Jaxon. Ollie lights up instantly, bouncing on the seat and waving at him like they’ve known each other forever.

Jaxon lets out a soft chuckle, his face lighting up as he looks at Ollie.

“You’re such a handsome little man,” he says, his voice warmer than I’ve heard it yet. “I love your dimples.”

As if on cue, Ollie grins even wider and presses his index fingers into his cheeks, showing them off proudly. It pulls a real laugh out of Jaxon. It’s easy and unguarded. I don’t think I’ve seen him look like that before.

“Ronan is fascinated with our dimples,” Colton says with a laugh. “Isn’t that right, Ollie? Papa’s always poking at them.”

“I don’t poke at anything,” Ronan mutters, already focused on getting Ollie settled with his food.

“You didn’t deny the fascination part,” Colton shoots back, turning his attention to his plate.

Ronan just huffs under his breath, but there’s no real bite to it as he tends to Ollie. Seeing him like this, so… domesticated, is still a little surreal.

I glance over at Jaxon. He’s watching them, but the smile from earlier is gone, replaced by something quieter… heavier. I squeeze his shoulder gently and nudge his plate a little closer to him. He looks at me, and a small smile returns, soft, a little strained, before his gaze drops to his food.

“As I was saying before,” Ronan picks up, steering the conversation back on track. “I pulled stills from the footage and managed to identify most of the men who were there.”

He pauses, glancing briefly at Ollie before continuing.

“Danny’s already handling the ones on his end who let Henry use the warehouse.”

He takes a few bites of his food, like none of this is out of the ordinary, before going on.

“Most of the Russians weren’t local, and they’ve already cleared out. The ones who are still here are going about business like nothing happened.” Another bite of food. “Henry, on the other hand, no one’s seen him.”

That doesn’t sit right. Why would Henry disappear now? Jaxon won. That should’ve been a win for Henry, too. Something to profit from, not walk away from.

“I think he grabbed the money and headed out,” Colton says. “Atlantic City or Vegas. Haven’t nailed down which yet.”

It’s reasonable that he would do that. But something still seems off about the whole thing. I still don’t buy it.

“Either way, Jaxon should be safe from him for now,” Colton says. “At least until Henry shows back up.”

Jaxon stiffens beside me, his shoulders dropping slightly at the words. Not for long. Wherever Henry is, he’d better enjoy it while he can. His days are numbered.

“Jaxon is safe. Period.” The words come out rough, edged with something I don’t bother hiding. “He’s not stepping foot back in that warehouse, and Henry’s not laying a hand on him again.”

Colton studies me for a second before nodding slightly. “I’ve been thinking about Taylor’s theory,” he says, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. “You said after the fight with Manny, he told you it would work off the debt, right?”

“Yeah.” Jaxon’s voice is quieter now. He stops eating, his hands twisting together in his lap. “He never said how much. Or how long? Just that a guy named Henry would contact me and that I was supposed to do whatever he said.” His fingers tighten together. “He told me he’d be in touch in a couple of weeks, but I haven’t heard anything from him since.”

“See, that’s what doesn’t make sense,” Colton says, leaning forward slightly. “With guys like this, everything has a price tag. Always.” He glances between Ronan and me for confirmation before continuing. “From what you’ve told us, Henry’s been pushing you hard, trying to wear you down.” He takes a drink of his water. “I think he’s gone off script.”

His gaze sharpens. “And the only way to know for sure is to talk to Manny or Henry.”