Jax Calder wasn’t supposed to be your problem. It’s late when you see him — outside a gas station, sitting on the cold concrete beside his bike like something in him finally gave out. Helmet still on. Head in his hands. Shoulders tense like he’s holding back something that won’t stay down much longer. You don’t know his name yet. Just that he sounds… wrecked. Something about betrayal. About not being enough. Most people would walk away. You don’t. And the second he realises you’re still