Page 27 of Dangerous Lies

Jax breathed a small sigh of relief once they were inside. The warmth of the building hit him first, along with the indistinct murmur of voices from the conference room down the hall. He followed Megan through the entrance, her red coat swaying with each step. They slipped into the room, claiming chairs near the back. As expected, the meeting was already in progress.

The space smelled of coffee. Plastic chairs were arranged in rows with more lining the back wall. A middle-aged woman stood at the front, holding a cup of coffee as she shared her story. Her voice was steady but carried the weight of someone who’d fought hard for every step of her sobriety.

“I lost my family to my addiction,” the woman said, her gaze sweeping the room. “My daughter hasn’t spoken to me in five years. But staying sober, working the steps, has brought me closer to God and to myself. One day, I hope she’ll see that I’ve changed. I hope she’ll give me a chance.” She offered a wobbly smile. “But whether she does or not, I’ll keep doing the work. Because I deserve to be healthy. I deserve to live a good life.”

Applause filled the room as the woman took her seat, and another person stood to speak. It went like that for a while. Each story punctured a hole in Jax’s heart until his chest ached, and for the hundredth time that day, he replayed the earlier conversation with Megan. His gaze flickered to the gorgeous woman sitting at his side. She was focused on the speaker, completely unaware that she’d shaken his entire worldview in one conversation.

If you discover Wesley is behind these attacks on me, would you believe he was beyond forgiveness? Or would you recognize that he’s in pain, lost and separated from God?

That question had sucker-punched him. Jax had always considered himself a realist. He saw the ugliness in the world and expected it. Megan, however, saw the world through a lens of kindness and hope, always looking for the best in people even when they’d given her every reason not to. Sitting here, listening to the stories being shared, Jax could see why. These people had done terrible things, hurt the people they loved, and yet they were working hard to rebuild their lives. Struggling, failing, picking themselves back up and trying again.

Each of them was worthy of redemption and grace.

It made him think of Oliver.

Jax swallowed hard, his throat tightening. His brother had been in pain. Instead of turning toward God and his family, Oliver had used drugs to numb his pain. Addiction had been his coping mechanism. Would things have been different if Jax had been less angry and more open? If he’d tried to understand instead of judge?

He’d never know. And it haunted him.

When the last person finished speaking, Douglas O’Neal rose from his chair in the front row. The man adjusted his thick-framed glasses before scanning the room and nodding in Jax’s direction. They didn’t know each other well, but Douglas had been one of Oliver’s closest friends in high school—before the drugs drove a wedge between them.

Jax straightened in his seat. He’d never thought to question Douglas about Oliver’s accident, since the two of them hadn’t been speaking at the time. But maybe Douglas had information about Zeke. Or whether Zeke and Wesley had known each other.

Douglas smiled warmly. “A special thank-you to everyone who shared their story tonight. We have coffee and donuts in the back of the room, so please stay and visit for a while after the meeting is over. To close out, I’d like to invite us all to stand and join hands for the Serenity Prayer.”

Jax stood and accepted Megan’s offered hand. Warmth spread through him at the simple touch. He tried his best to ignore it, but this persistent connection between them was growing stronger.

Bowing his head, he joined in as Douglas led the group in prayer.

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

A collective “Amen” followed. Applause rippled through the room before people broke off into smaller groups, chatting and laughing as the tension lifted. Across the way, Megan waved at a group of women, and one of them gestured for her to come over. She glanced at Jax.

“Do you mind? I won’t be long.”

“Go ahead. I wanted to speak to Douglas anyway.”

With a killer hunting Megan’s every move, time was of the essence. Jax crossed the room in long strides, catching up with Douglas at the refreshment table. His brother’s old friend greeted him with a warm handshake. “Hey, Jax. Nice to see you. It’s been a while.”

“It has. How have you been?”

“Can’t complain.” Douglas poured himself some coffee from a thermos, juggling a donut in the other hand.

“Mind if I pick your brain for a moment?”

“Not at all.”

Jax led Douglas away from the crowded refreshment table to a quieter corner of the room. From here, he could talk without interruption while still monitoring Megan. Douglas followed his gaze.

“This stuff with Megan… it’s crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m glad she has someone like you watching her back, but I was surprised to hear you volunteered for the job, considering the history.”

Jax tucked his thumbs into his pockets. “It’s a long story.” He studied Douglas. “How much do you know about the night Oliver died?”

“Only what Megan’s told me. I’ve heard the rumors around town and I know what your family thinks, but there was never any proof she was high that night. People in recovery relapse sometimes, but I don’t like assuming the worst. I believed what she told me.” His expression darkened, distant. “Still hard though. Megan was driving that night…”

Douglas shook his head, as if pulling himself from a train of thought. “Sorry. I got off on a tangent. What did you want to discuss?”

“I was hoping you could tell me about Oliver’s relationship with Zeke Russell.”

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