Page 112 of Searching for Valor

Rylan grinned and held Izzy close as their friends congratulated them. And for the first time in years, he felt whole. Surrounded by the people—and the dog—who had helped him reclaim his life, he couldn’t imagine why he’d ever thought he didn’t want this.

This was peace.

This was home.

And now, it was forever.

epilogue

Three YearsLater

The air smelled different outside the prison walls—sharper, cleaner.

Like freedom.

Jaxon Thorne paused just beyond the gate with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and drew a deep breath.

Five years.

It had been five years since he last breathed fresh air as a free man.

It felt like a lifetime.

And at the same time, not long enough. Not for everything he’d done. All the people he’d hurt.

The sun was brighter than he remembered, too. He shielded his eyes with his hand, squinting against the glare, searching for a familiar face. But there was no one. No family, no friends. Not a single person had come to welcome him back into the world.

A pang of loneliness shot through him, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t know why he was disappointed. He hadn’t actually expected Shane and Rylan to come. They had lives, careers, and friends. They were both happily married. Rylan had a young daughter, and Shane was going to be a father any daynow. They’d already done far more for him than he deserved—arguing on his behalf for a lenient sentence, visiting him in prison when they could, going to bat for him with the parole board… All of it despite the genuinely awful person he used to be and the horrible things he’d done to them.

He wasn’t the same man who had walked into this prison— angry, bitter, and drowning in hatred and drugs. But even though he’d worked hard to rebuild himself from the inside out, there were still pieces missing, pieces he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back.

Jax shifted his weight restlessly and scanned the nearly empty parking lot, unsure of his next move. Before prison, his only goal—the one thing he lived and breathed for—was to hurt Shane for destroying his life. But now, with the clarity of sobriety and years of introspection, that old rage felt hollow and pointless. Shane hadn’t been the one to destroy his life. Jax had done that all on his own, with his self-destructive choices and misplaced blame.

He knew that. Accepted it. But what was he supposed to do now? He had no plan, no direction, and nowhere to go.

A battered pickup truck pulled to a stop in front of him, its engine idling. The driver’s door swung open, and a weathered, middle-aged man stepped out. He had a commanding presence, with a square jaw and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through him. A cowboy hat rested on his head, tilted low against the sun. He looked like something out of an old Western, complete with boots that had seen better days and a belt buckle the size of a dinner plate.

“Jaxon Thorne?” His voice was gruff but not unkind.

Guard up, Jax nodded slowly. “Who’s asking?”

“Walker Nash.” He extended a calloused hand. “Welcome to freedom, son.”

Jax hesitated.

“Rylan Cross sent me,” Walker added. “He wanted to be here, but your friend Shane’s wife went into labor last night, and I guess there were some complications, so he stayed there.”

Rylan wanted to be here.

Why that brought a lump to his throat, he’d never know. But it did.

After everything, Rylan still gave a damn. It was more than Jax deserved. He swallowed hard, pushing down the swell of emotion, and reached out to shake Walker’s hand. The man had a firm grip, his palm rough with years of hard work.

“What complications?” he asked at last, his voice a little hoarse. What he really wanted to ask was if Alexis was okay. He couldn’t imagine how Shane would react if?—

Actually, scratch that. He didn’t have to imagine anything. He’d seen Shane’s rage firsthand when he tried to kill Alexis all those years ago.

Jesus. He would never, ever forgive himself for that.

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