If Keegan was anywhere around when Jax parked at the end of the driveway behind Donovan’s home on Friday afternoon, he didn’t make his presence known. Jax doubted he was—it was too soon—but he still scanned the area before he got out of the car.
Two things he knew for certain about Keegan. One, he was an expert sharpshooter. The fact that he had shot at Jax, and missed, four times in the last two days, was no accident. Cat and mouse. Jax had thought that before and he still believed it.
The second fact was one he’d learned the first time they’d met. Keegan considered him an abomination who should have been destroyed at birth, which was sort of amusing, given what Keegan was. There had been a time, long before he became aware of Keegan, when Jax would have said he agreed. Then he’d learne
