Page 32 of Finding His Redemption

Boone nodded. “He’s right. Hank’s had a hard-on for this place since day one. You’re just the latest excuse.”

“This’ll get uglier if we don’t stay ahead of it.” Walker’s weathered face was grim. “So stay close to the ranch for a few days. No more dawn walks, no trips to town. Let the heat die down.”

Jax’s jaw tightened. He’d been free for barely three days, and already his world was shrinking back to prison dimensions. Fences. Boundaries. Permission needed to go anywhere.

This place was just another kind of cage. Bigger, sure. Prettier, definitely. But still a cage.

“So I’m on lockdown.”

“Call it whatever you want,” Boone said. “Just don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”

Walker studied him, eyes narrowed against the sun. “You got anywhere better to be?”

Jax didn’t answer. They both knew he didn’t.

“It’s just common fuckin’ sense, son,” Walker added. “You want to give Goodwin another crack at you? Go ahead. Walk into town. See how fast he finds a reason to cuff you.”

He was right. Of course he was right.

And Jax heard the unspoken message loud and clear:If shit goes sideways, you better be where I can find you.

“Then we’re done here.” Walker gave a sharp whistle, and Cowboy rose from his spot on the porch, trotting to his master’s side. “You have a dog to work with. Focus on that.”

chapter

nine

Echo was still huddledin the corner of her kennel, exactly where he’d left her yesterday evening. She lifted her head as he approached, ears flattening against her skull.

“Hey, girl,” he said softly.

She growled, but there was less conviction in it than last time.

“Yeah, I know.” He crouched in front of the kennel door. “It’s a shit day for both of us. You don’t gotta come over. I wouldn’t either, if I were you. Just… sit with me awhile. Maybe we’ll get used to each other.”

The dog inched back, but her eyes never left his face.

“They think I hurt someone.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the words slipped out anyway. “But I didn’t. Not this time.”

He wasn’t sure why he was talking to a dog who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe because she was the only one who couldn’t judge him. Or maybe because she already had, and found him wanting.

“I hurt plenty of people before, though.” He sat cross-legged on the concrete floor in front of her kennel. “It doesn’t matter if I did it or not. I’m the kind of man people expect to see blood on.”

Echo’s notched ear flicked toward him. She uncoiled just enough to show her teeth, then settled again.

“Yeah, I know. Scary.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, the tension there a familiar companion. “If it helps, I’m not too fond of humans either.”

He pulled his knees up and rested his forearms on them, making himself smaller. Less threatening. Echo’s eyes tracked the movement, her body still rigid with distrust.

“My first dog was named Max. Lab mix. Big golden goofball who thought everyone in the world existed just to pet him.” The memory made his throat tighten up. “He was the only one happy to see me come home after my first tour.”

Echo’s growl had subsided to a low rumble.

“After he died, I didn’t want another one. Figured I’d just disappoint it.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Then I got to prison, and they put me in the dog training program. Turns out I’m better with dogs than people.”

Echo didn’t move. Barely looked like she was breathing. But she watched him with those suspicious mismatched eyes, so he kept talking.

“My first dog with the program was a golden retriever puppy named Sandy. She was just happy to exist and lived to please. Whenever she looked at me with those big brown eyes, I melted. Don’t tell anyone, but the first night she slept in my bunk, I sobbed like a baby. I was so broken, but she didn’t care. She just snuggled up next to me and licked away the tears. She’s a therapy dog now. After Sandy, there was Cooper. Black lab. Black as midnight with one white paw. Smart as hell.”

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