Page 83 of Finding His Redemption

He’d been everything she’d thought she wanted—sophisticated, wealthy, charming. He’d swept her off her feet with expensive dinners and weekend trips to Napa, showering her with attention and gifts she’d never dreamed of receiving. When he’d asked her to marry him after only six months, she’d said yes without hesitation, blinded by the fairy tale he’d spun around her.

She’d been so fucking naive.

The memory of Alek’s face in the courtroom still haunted her. That reptilian smile as he’d mouthed the words, “I’ll find you,” while the bailiffs led him away.

And now he was free.

She let the curtain fall and crossed her bedroom, slipped across the hall, and pushed Oliver’s door open.

He lay sprawled across his bed, one arm flung overhead, the other clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, a ragged T-Rex named Chompy that had seen better days. His hair fell across his forehead in messy waves, and his mouth hung slightly open, soft breaths whistling through the gap where he’d lost a tooth last week. The Tooth Fairy had left him a dollar and a note about brushing better. She’d spent twenty minutes disguising her handwriting.

Just one of a thousand small deceptions required to give him something like a normal childhood.

Nessie leaned against the doorframe, watching the rise and fall of his chest, memorizing the curve of his cheek, the sweep of his eyelashes against his skin. In sleep, his face relaxed into baby softness, reminding her of the toddler he’d been when they’dfled Los Angeles. He’d grown so much since then. Not just taller, but braver. Happier.

He’d found his place here in Solace. Found friends who didn’t care that he sometimes stuttered when he was tired, or that he checked exits everywhere they went, or that he panicked if she was five minutes late picking him up. Found a school where his intelligence was nurtured rather than labeled as “difficult” or “odd.” Found a rhythm to life that didn’t include constant fear.

“I won’t let them take this from you,” she whispered, the promise fierce and quiet in the darkness. “Not Brandt. Not Alek. Not the sheriff. Not whoever wrote that fucking note. We’re not running, baby. Not anymore.”

chapter

twenty-four

Jax had knownthe bullshit assault allegation wouldn’t stick, so he wasn’t surprised when Deputy Murdock grudgingly unlocked his cell at the end of the third day. But he was surprised when he walked out of the sheriff’s office and saw the men of Valor Ridge waiting in the parking lot.

Boone leaned against the hood of his F-150, face set in permafrost.

River sat on the tailgate, dirty boots swinging.

Ghost stood like a statue, arms folded and sunglasses hiding whatever calculus went on behind those ice-gray eyes.

Bear, Anson, and Jonah, all there, waiting in a loose circle.

And X wolf-whistling as if being released from jail was worthy of a goddamn parade.

Jax’s gut tightened when he reached the bottom step and saw who they were all gathered around. Nessie, with her dark hair catching the breeze, was watching him with those warm brown eyes that saw too much.

His first instinct was to look away, to shield himself from whatever judgment she might pass. But he couldn’t tear his gaze from her face, couldn’t pretend he wasn’t drinking in the sightof her after three days of nothing but concrete and fluorescent lights.

The urge to run—away from her, toward her? Hell, he wasn’t sure which, but the urge nearly took his knees out. He settled for stuffing his hands in his pockets and stopping several feet away.

Nessie stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She didn’t say anything. Just moved into his space and hugged him, arms looping around his ribs, face pressed to his chest.

Jax froze. People didn’t touch him. Not unless they wanted to hurt, restrain, or humiliate. She did none of those things. She just held on. His hands hovered, not knowing where to go. She was small, and warm, and she smelled like vanilla and cinnamon—the scent he’d caught himself thinking about during those endless hours in the cell.

He looked over her head at the others. River and X were grinning. Jonah bugged his eyes in a“c’mon, man”expression and made a hugging motion with his arms.

Right.

He put his hands on her back gently, barely touching, as if she might shatter beneath his fingers. Then, with her warmth seeping through his thin t-shirt, everything inside him cracked. He tightened his grip, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head as he pulled her closer.

Three days without seeing her face. Three days of wondering if she’d regretted standing up for him, if she’d come to her senses and realized what a mistake she’d made. Three days of expecting to be forgotten.

But she was here. Solid and real and holding onto him like he mattered.

“You okay?” she murmured against his chest.

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Not with the lump that had lodged itself in his throat.

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