Page 63 of Jolene's Justice

Deputy Ian McClintock approached them. “You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my ex’s wife.”

“Seems like she doesn’t like you.”

Jolene snorted. “Understatement.”

They watched as she was placed into the back of a sheriff’s vehicle. As she taunted Jolene, her voice grew louder and more piercing. “At least I destroyed what you most love. You destroyed our lives. Consider it justice,” she spat as she was shoved into the car.

“Ex’s wife? Does that mean . . .” Ian trailed off, unsure how to word his question.

“That’s exactly what it means. The bastard was cheating on her with me. I didn’t know he was married,” she was quick to add, and Finch squeezed her hand to remind her of their mantra. The shame was not hers to bear. “Weird. I have no idea what she’s ranting about. As far as I knew, they were happy as pie when I left New York City. My ex had everything, including my restaurant. He’d left me with nothing.”

“Asshole,” Ian muttered in disgust. “I’ll come visit tomorrow to get your report about all of this.”

“Thanks, Ian,” Finch said, holding out his hand for Ian to shake.

After Ian left to handle the law enforcement side of things, Jolene squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to her. He helped her reposition the oxygen mask while stroking her hair away from her face. Though she was exhausted and covered in soot, she remained the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Finch?”

“I’m here, Jolie.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“But you’re gonna have to find a new favorite place.”

“No, I won’t,” he stated firmly. “Because my favorite place is wherever you are.”

“I love you.”

“I love you right back.” He kissed her forehead, then allowed the EMTs to load her into the back of the ambulance. They took one look at him and realized there was no way they could stop him from riding with her.

Chapter 28

Twoweekslater,andJolene felt like her lungs were nearly back to normal. It had been an eye-opening couple of weeks. Full of resilience, friendship, and love. And she had to admit she had felt a tiny sense of justice as motives became clear.

Paris Winston acted like a spoiled child who didn’t get her way. Turned out, since Jolene had retained ownership of her recipes, the new chef at Noitiña couldn’t replicate the level of cuisine their customers had been accustomed to. It went out of business not long after she’d opened the doors to her bar.

Despite his best efforts, Harrison had been unable to replicate the success of Noitiña with any of his new restaurant ventures. He’d driven them to near bankruptcy, spending most of his wife’s money in his follies. Until one day, a few months ago, he gave up and took the easy way out. His wife had found him in his home office. According to the reports, he had shot himself in the head. He’d left a note, which the police think was what set Paris on the path of revenge. Ian had managed to get a copy of the note from the NYC detectives and showed it to her. Just three lines. No signature.It began and ended withNoitiña. We never should have pushed her out. I’m sorry.

And laying nearby was an article from theSouthwest Michigan Dine Outmagazine touting Jolene’s Bar and Grill as one of the best locally owned restaurants in the area.

It was strange to think that Harrison’s last thoughts were about her. She could take those words as an admission of regret for what he’d done to her. An apology, of sorts. But she wasn’t deluding herself. Harrison was the type of man who never held on to regrets. And she wouldn’t fool herself into thinking theI’m sorrywas for her.

Frankly, she didn’t give a shit. She’d found a new life in Lake Haven. A better life. She had friends who gave up their free time to help her rummage through the ruins of her bar for anything salvageable. Those same friends were planning fundraisers to help her rebuild, hoping to supplement what insurance didn’t cover.

Then there were Emma and Marcus. They’d surprised her one day with a brand-new food truck with her logo painted on the side. They figured she could use it while she rebuilt. She could still keep her customers happy with a few of the favorite menu items. And furthermore, she could participate in the upcoming county fair.

Some of her employees understandably took new jobs but hoped to come back when she reopened. But her most dependable ones, like Ox, Nan, and Sophie, stayed and sweated it out with her in the back of the food truck. That was loyalty. Something she’d never had among her employees at Noitiña.

Finch had been by her side through it all. They had both learned a great deal about themselves over the weeks since her father’s heart attack. Neither one of them had noticed how much their shame was eating away at their soul. It was an emotion that had kept them trapped at the moment the shame was born. The feeling never faded with time, and at any moment, it could drown them again. Shame had a way of lingering, waiting to pull you back and force you to relive the experience as if it was happening for the first time.

But by sharing their shame with each other, it began to wither. Shame’s power lies in its unspeakable nature. The creature thrives in silence, and it preys on those who keep to themselves, feeding off their timidity, introversion, and distance from others. Secrecy is its lifeblood.

But it crumbles when exposed through conversation. Which was exactly what happened when they sat down with their Nighthawk family. Jolene knew Finch was nervous to confess to the guys about his past. They talked for hours among the two of them about their struggles with the shame parasite. Hearing Finch’s whole story had been a privilege. And she knew their friends would feel the same. By virtue of who they were, they had earned the right to hear their stories. She and Finch were incredibly lucky to have found a group of friends—nay, family—who embraced their imperfections and vulnerabilities.

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