Page 92 of Sanctuary of Secrets

Seyla rolled her eyes and wiped the cold sweat from her upper lip with a laugh. “Why don’t I doubt that?”

He shrugged his shoulders, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “While you were talking to him, I chewed off the sleeve section with my teeth and left the hub end there, connected to the tape. I pushed the tape into place again, then twisted my arm. That way, he wouldn’t see the propofol drip out. It soaked into my shirt, so he had no idea.”

Seyla’s eyes opened so wide they burned. She stared at him, ignoring it, along with the pain radiating through her. “Are you for real?”

“Thanks?” Jax lifted his shoulders in a shrug, a lazy smile carving his lips. He scooted closer to her as police and ambulance sirens became audible in the distance.

Seyla leaned against him, the pain returning full force. A chill swept over her, and her vision swam. Would Jax be there when she woke if she passed out? Or was his duty to Matt complete now that they’d eliminated the threat? Would he disappear from her life soon? The panicked thoughts added to the nausea sweeping through her. She slumped against him, giving in to the blackness.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jax stepped out of the truck and shut the door to his old life. No turning back now. Uncle Sam and Matt fell in beside him, their actions a silent “I’ve got your six.” His stomach coiled into a tight ball, although he allowed his feet to move him forward to the entrance of the newly built, pristine Labyrinth Park.

“You can do this,” his uncle coached, echoing the words in his head.

Jax nodded, eyes riveted on the elderly woman they approached. She appeared older. Frailer.

She attempted to smile. It scarcely registered against the insecurity defining her face.

Jax mustered one in return, pushing through the reluctance of his face to cooperate.

The time had come to move toward forgiveness. Toward healing. Questions nagged at him like a horde of mosquitoes. He swatted them away, though. He’d have to trust that God would change his heart, that He would bring restoration in whatever way He chose. One step at a time.

By the time they got within twenty feet of her, small indicators of change became noticeable—her short, neatly combed silver hair, unstained pink sun dress, and shoes rather than slippers. A middle-aged woman in scrubs got up from a nearby bench and intercepted them. “I’m Leslie, Joan’s caregiver. She’s mentioned you quite a bit.”

They introduced themselves, and together they approached…his mother.

“Jax?” The woman’s lips trembled, much like her hands, her eyes shiny with tears.

What did he call her now? He opted not to use a name. He wasn’t ready for that yet. “Yeah, it’s me, Jax.”

“You’re all grown up. I-I’m…” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so, so sorry.” She wiped tears away with a tissue Uncle Sam handed her. Eyeing the crumpled tissue in her hand, she said, “I take medication now. I go to therapy. Leslie lives with me to keep me accountable and mentor me.” She raised her eyes to meet his, pain, regret, and remorse concentrated in their depths. She sniffled. “I hope…I hope someday you won’t be embarrassed to call me your mother. That someday, I can be the mother you deserve—”

Jax wrapped his arms around her, surprising even himself with the level of mercy, compassion, and care flowing through him for this broken person. A person broken, like him, in need of God’s grace and mercy.

Thank you, Lord.

She leaned back to wipe more tears from her face. “Thank you for meeting me. I know this is difficult for you.”

“Let’s take it one day at a time,” Jax said. “No expectations. We can meet for lunch once a week.”

“I’d like that.”

They crossed the path to reach a bench and sat together. Matt, Leslie, and his uncle stayed close, while allowing the two of them to steer the conversation. They talked for a long while, with only a few awkward pauses.

“When do you return to Michigan?”

Jax heard the note of sadness in the question, although he appreciated her attempt to sound casual. “Honestly? I’m not sure.” Should he mention his thoughts in regard to staying? No, not yet. He needed some answers himself before he could answer that question. No sense in getting her hopes up.

His mind spun with the full scope of the plans he’d developed, but they all centered on one person. A person he couldn’t get five minutes alone with. Family support, though a precious gift, didn’t allow for private conversations. Between Matt and the rest of the family, he’d found it impossible and concluded it was a conversation he’d have to initiate in a different setting.

Jax’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, recognizing Rich’s number. “I—”

She smiled. “It’s okay; I understand.”

They both stood there, not wanting the interaction to end. However, he couldn’t miss this call. He pointed at the phone. “This is one of those answers I need.”

He hesitated, then hugged her.

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