Page 52 of Finding His Redemption

“How long?”

“Five years.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “That’s forever! That’s like, my whole life!”

“Almost,” Jax agreed.

“But you’re better now? You don’t do bad things anymore?”

He opened his mouth, but closed it again without making a sound. Was he better? Would he ever be? Or was he just one bad day away from becoming the monster everyone thought he was? The monster he had once been?

He finally settled on the same thing he’d told Echo. “I’m trying to be better.”

Oliver nodded, satisfied. “That’s good. Mom says trying is the most important part.” He squeezed Jax’s fingers. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”

Friend. The word lodged in his throat like a stone. This child—this innocent, trusting child—thought they were friends. And for the first time in years, he saw himself through someone else’s eyes. Not as a threat, not as a criminal, not as damaged goods, but as someone worth knowing. Worth trusting.

It shook him to his core.

“Okay,” Nessie said and gave her son a gentle push. “Now go put your backpack away and wash those dirty hands like I told you.”

“I did!”

“With soap?”

The boy grumbled and trudged toward the back room, dragging his feet with theatrical slowness.

“Sorry about that,” Nessie said once he was out of earshot. “He asks a lot of questions when he’s excited.”

He straightened. “It’s fine.” And strangely, it was. The kid’s enthusiasm was... refreshing. Uncomplicated. “He’s a good kid.”

“The best.” Her voice softened. “Too good for what he’s been through.”

Before Jax could ask what she meant, Ghost spoke from the doorway. “Walker’s expecting us back.”

Nessie nodded. “Of course. Thank you again for fixing the door.”

“It was nothing.”

“Not nothing,” she corrected, her gaze steady on his. “It’s something. And I appreciate it.”

The way she said it, so quiet and certain, lodged under his skin and refused to budge. He nodded once, not trusting himself to speak, and turned to follow Ghost.

“Jax?”

He stopped at the threshold and looked back. She was holding out a small piece of paper.

“My number. In case you...” She trailed off, seeming uncertain how to finish that sentence.

In case he wanted to talk? In case he needed help? In case the sheriff came for him and he needed someone to vouch for his whereabouts?

He took the paper, careful not to let their fingers touch again. “Thanks.”

Outside, Ghost was already halfway to the truck, his long strides eating up the sidewalk. Jax hurried to catch up, tucking the paper into his pocket like it was something precious.

“Got what you need?” Ghost asked as he climbed into the cab, his tone neutral but his eyes knowing.

Jax didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure what he needed anymore. A week ago, he’d known exactly. Stay invisible. Do his time at the ranch. Stay out of prison. But now...

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