“No but killing a man and shoving him in the trunk of a car sure would. Don’t you agree, Agent Crenshaw?” Noah arched a brow.
“Here’s how we’re going to play this,” Noah broke in before another pissing match could ensue. “Jax, you take Poppy to that cabin of yours. Send Declan the address so we know where to find you if the need arises. In the meantime, we’ll keep digging. See if there’s a solid connection between Detective Moore and De Luca.” Before Jax could comment, Noah added, “One that we can prove.”
“Fine.” Jax met his brother’s gaze. “I’ll send you the address to the cabin, but it doesn’t go outside the people in this room. Got it?”
“Mum’s the word.” Declan pretended to zip his lips. “When are you heading out?”
“As soon as we can get packed.” Speaking of, Jax pulled out his phone and shot Ivan a quick text letting him know what needed to be done. Slipping the device back into his pocket, he turned to Poppy and asked, “You ready?”
The adorable woman nodded, but the trepidation in her eyes was clear.
Waiting until they were in the privacy of his car, Jax buckled his seatbelt before turning to her. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I swear I will keep you safe.”
“I believe you,” she repeated the same phrase he’d used minutes earlier.
As he put the car in drive, Jax couldn’t help but wonder why those three little words meant so very much.
Because they came from her.
And how much fucking sense did that make? He’d known her for what, a day? This wasn’t him. He wasn’t like Noah and Wade…and most recently, Dec.
Those dumbasses had fallen flat on their asses in love from practically the first second they met their women. Which was all fine and dandy for them, but not Jax.
No siree.
He didn’t do the whole insta-love bullshit. Hell, he didn’t do love at all. And he sure as fuck wasn’t about to entertain the idea that it was even possible to grow feelings for someone after one goddamn day.
No? Then why put up such a fight to keep her out of WITSEC?
That didn’t mean anything. Just that Jax didn’t trust the program to protect his client. Nothing more to it than that.
A flash of a memory skewed his line of thinking.
Poppy’s tongue in his mouth. Her fingernails digging into the skin at the back of his neck. The rounded swells of her ass filling the palms of his hands…
Jax shifted in his seat to help reposition his growing cock.
Sex does not equal feelings.
He’d learned that lesson a long damn time ago.
But as he drove the rest of the way in silence, there was one other thought that continued rolling through his mind. One that defied all semblance of logic.
I can’t lose her. Not to Frank De Luca. Not to anyone.
11
Poppy enteredJax’s apartment feeling all out of sorts. On the one hand, she was relieved to know they were making some sort of progress on the whole murder-in-the-alley insanity. On the other, she was still bothered by Jax’s conflicting behavior.
During the drive to the police station, he’d been distant and moody. But when she’s started to get upset during her time in Isobel’s office, he’d gone all caveman on her with his overprotective demeanor and demands that they stop the session.
Then, on the short drive to the FBI office, he’d gone radio silent again, barely saying two words to her the entire way. Later, when Agents Killion and Crenshaw had suggested she sign up to be in the Witness Protection Program, Jax had damn near come unglued on her behalf.
It was like watching an all-day tennis match with two very different Jax’s playing against each other. And Poppy hated tennis.
“Grab your things,” he ordered from behind her. “I’ll clean up the mess in the kitchen, and then we’ll leave.”
Watching him walk past, she shook her head with a muttered, “Yes, sir.”