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hoping she’d rush him. Hoping to infuriate her before he shot her.

She’d gritted her teeth and stared back at him with as unaffected a look as she could manage. But she’d known he was just working himself up to something she couldn’t withstand. He was working himself up to Juan’s murder. Maybe to Jax’s, too, if he hadn’t made it out of that SUV.

But now Jax was here. Alive and somehow in this cabin.

Just as he raised a big metal wrench over his head and Keara thought it was all about to end, the bomber spun and told Jax, “Welcome to the party.”

Keara wouldn’t have dared trying to rush the bomber when he was that close to Jax, the gun pointed. But he spun back to keep them both in his eye line quickly.

The bomber shook his head, said to Jax in a mock-sad tone, “And here I let you live at the park.” But he couldn’t seem to stop a smile from breaking.

Jax slowly lowered the wrench, dropped it to the floor with a clang that made Keara flinch.

“If you killed me, then how would I be able to rue how much smarter you are than me?” Jax asked, his tone and expression even.

The bomber’s eyes narrowed, like he wasn’t sure if Jax was mocking him. Then he shrugged and said, “Like I told Keara, you’ve given me some fun here. I like a challenge. But the heat is getting a little too close. It’s about time for me to move on. And I’m afraid you can’t come with me.”

“Where to next, Todd?” Jax asked.

Keara’s attention jolted from Jax to the bomber, who visibly jerked.

Then he gave a forced smile. “You’re better than I thought you were. How’d you get my name?”

“An old case,” Jax said and the bomber’s eyes narrowed as he shifted more to face Jax, his gun lowering slightly as he took his attention mostly off Keara.

Her breath stalled. She had no idea how Jax had come up with Todd’s name, with details of his past. But if Jax could keep Todd talking, keep his attention, maybe she could rush him. She wasn’t at full strength—not even close—but she had rage and desperation on her side. She would not watch another man she loved die.

“How old?” Todd asked, his voice squeaking slightly.

“Twenty-nine years old,” Jax replied evenly, his gaze never shifting to her. “Committed by your father.”

Todd scoffed. “He was no father.”

“Then why use his symbol?” Jax asked. “Why repurpose it as your own?”

Todd grinned slowly, and the evil there made a shiver race over Keara’s skin.

“That might have been his kill, but it’s always been my symbol.”

“You smeared your mother’s blood on the wall?” Jax asked, surprise in his voice that told Keara he hadn’t found all of the answers. “Why?”

Todd scowled, shook his head. Something in his expression told Keara even he wasn’t sure of the answer. “Does it matter? That’s my symbol.”

“And what about the man who killed your mother? It didn’t bother you that people thought it was his symbol?” Jax asked.

Keara slid forward, one tiny millimeter at a time, holding her breath, trying not to listen too closely to the horrible tale of Todd’s childhood. She needed to get close enough to launch herself at him and she needed him to be distracted enough that she’d land before he could lift his gun and fire. But she had to be completely focused.

“I dealt with him. Right before I killed Celia Harris,” Todd said, his head tipping up, pride and hate in his words.

Jax nodded slowly, not looking afraid. “It gave you the courage to try a riskier kill.”

Todd scowled again. “I didn’t need courage, but yeah, I went for someone people would actually miss.” He shrugged, then gave a broad grin that told Keara she needed to move soon. “And then I discovered how much fun it was to fool the police.”

He started to turn back toward her and she knew: this might be her only chance.

But he was twisting too fast, his gun lifting again.

She wouldn’t make it. But she had to try.

Keara launched herself off the ground even as Jax’s “Keara, no!” rang out and Todd’s smile shifted into a sinister smirk.

A familiar woof! woof! woof! came from behind Jax and a blur of brown and black fur raced through the doorway.

Todd’s smirk slipped as he twisted back in the other direction.

Then Keara landed hard, roping her arms around Todd, trapping him beneath her as they hit the ground. The force of it reverberated through her body as she focused on his gun hand. Ignoring the searing pain in her own hands, the slippery blood making it hard to hold on, she gripped his middle fingers and twisted them backward.

He yelped and lost his grip on the gun.

Keara shoved it away from him as she leveraged herself into a crouched position over him, yanking his arms up behind his back like she was going to cuff him.

Before she could, he rolled, shoving her off him.

Then he was pushing himself off the ground.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Jax said, his voice low and deadly.

Keara glanced up.

Jax stood with his feet braced apart like he was on a firing range, the pistol in one hand as the other arm dangled strangely at his side. Patches stood beside him, her teeth bared in a way Keara had never seen.

Todd lowered himself back down and then the room erupted in noise as the front door crashed inward and Ben and Anderson rushed inside.

“You’re under arrest,” Ben yelled, weapon directed at Todd as Anderson yanked Todd’s hands up behind his back and cuffed him.

Jax lowered the pistol he held and gave Keara a shaky smile.

It was over.

Epilogue

A week later Keara stood in front of her officers in the Desparre Police Department, trying not to choke up. “It’s been an honor working with all of you for the past six years,” she told them.

They stared back at her, giving each other uncertain looks, not having

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