Chapter 11 - The Line in the Sand
The cold truth hung in the humid swamp air, heavy enough to choke on. Eight years of guilt, eight years of believing he had abandoned his own flesh and blood—shattered in an instant. Lily wasn't his biological daughter. She was the heiress to Gabriel Vance’s criminal syndicate, the biological child of the monster Jax had spent half his life fighting.
Lily stood small under the wool blanket, watching Jax with wide, terrified eyes. She reached out with two trembling fingers, lightly tugging the fabric of his torn shirt.
""Daddy?"" she whispered, her voice breaking. ""Are you going to leave me now?""
Jax looked down at her. He saw the scuffed knees, the dirt on her cheek, the way she clutched Barnaby like the battered toy was the only anchor in a storm. He remembered her running to him in the parking lot, trusting him without a second thought because her mother had told her that Jax was her father.
Biology didn't make a father. Blood was just spilled water. Oaths and love were forged in fire.
Jax dropped to both knees, pulling Lily into a fierce, crushing embrace. ""Never,"" he growled into her hair. ""I’m your father, Lily. Nobody on this earth will ever change that. Nobody.""
""Sensors tripped at fifty yards,"" Silas announced coldly, chambering a heavy round into a semi-automatic shotgun. ""It’s not the bikers. Vance brought his personal vanguard. They aren't taking prisoners, Jax. They're coming to incinerate the cabin and retrieve the girl.""
Jax stood up, the doubt completely burned out of his veins, replaced by pure, lethal focus. He drew his Kimber .45, checking the magazine, and grabbed a customized tactical vest from Silas's weapon rack.
""Silas, take Lily into the swamp tunnel beneath the floorboards. Get her to the airboat at the south dock,"" Jax commanded.
""What are you going to do?"" Silas asked, cocking an eyebrow.
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Jax strapped on the vest, clicking a drum magazine into an automatic shotgun hanging from the wall. ""I'm going to teach Gabriel Vance's men what happens when you threaten my kid.""
A concussion grenade exploded on the front porch, blowing the heavy wooden door into thousands of wooden daggers.
