Page 41

chapter

twenty-nine

Thirty minutes later, they were driving down the winding mountain road toward Solace. Echo sat in the back seat, her In Training vest making her look official. She had her nose pressed to the window, watching the trees blur past.

“She doing okay?” Jonah asked, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” Jax said, surprised to find it was true. “She’s curious.”

“Good sign. Means she’s feeling secure enough to explore.”

The town came into view, its Main Street still looking like something out of another era.

Storefronts with weathered facades, American flags hanging from lampposts in preparation for the upcoming Memorial Day parade, the mountains rising up behind it all like silent guardians.

Peaceful, picturesque. The kind of place tourists drove through and thought, “Now this is real America.”

But Jax knew better. Every small town had its secrets, its darkness. Solace just hid its better than most.

Jonah pulled up in front of Nessie’s Place. The bakery looked quiet from the outside, only a few customers visible through the windows. But what caught Jax’s attention was the small figure sitting on the front porch steps, hunched over something colorful.

Oliver.

The kid was so focused on whatever he was doing that he didn’t notice them at first. As they approached, Jax saw he had watercolor paints spread out beside him, a large sheet of paper balanced across his knees.

“Hey, buddy,” Jax said.

Oliver’s head snapped up, his face breaking into a wide smile that made Jax’s chest ache. “Jax! You came back!” His eyes widened when he spotted Echo. “You brought a dog!”

“This is Echo,” Jax said, crouching down. “Echo, this is Oliver.”

Oliver put his paintbrush down carefully. “Can I pet her?”

“Let’s let her come to you, okay? She’s still learning to trust people.”

Oliver nodded solemnly and held out a hand, keeping very still.

Echo surprised Jax by taking a tentative step toward the boy, her nose working overtime as she sniffed the air around him.

“She smells the paint,” Jonah said with a smile. “Dogs are curious about new scents.”

After a moment, Echo stretched her neck out and gave his hand a cautious sniff. Then, to Jax’s amazement, she gently licked Oliver’s fingers.

“She likes me!” the boy whispered, his eyes huge.

“She sure does,” Jax said, unable to keep the wonder from his voice. “Most people, she’s still pretty scared of. But not you.”

“I’m special,” Oliver said with the absolute certainty of a seven-year-old. “Mom says so.”

“She’s right about that.” Jax glanced at the bakery door. “Is your mom around?”

Oliver nodded, picking up his paintbrush again. “She’s in the kitchen. She’s been kinda grumpy today.”

Well, fuck. Maybe today wasn’t the best time to do this.

“Want to see my painting?” Oliver held up the watercolor, a swirl of blues and greens that might have been a field… or maybe an ocean? “It’s for Mom’s birthday next week. But I’m not supposed to tell anyone it’s her birthday.”

There was a lot to unpack in that statement, but he wasn’t going to ask the kid any of the questions swirling in his mind. Instead, he focused on the painting.

“It’s really great, buddy.” He meant it. There was something about the colors, the way they blended into each other, that captured a feeling he couldn’t quite name. “She’ll love it.”

Oliver beamed, then looked at Echo thoughtfully. “Do you think Echo wants to paint too?”

Jax blinked. “Uh, I don’t think dogs?—”

But Oliver was already dipping a clean brush into the yellow paint. “Here,” he said, holding it out to Echo. “You can try.”

Before Jax could stop him, Oliver had placed the brush in Echo’s mouth. She froze, clearly confused, but didn’t drop it.

“Now paint!” Oliver pointed to a fresh sheet of paper.

Echo looked at Jax, brush hanging from her mouth, expression so bewildered that he had to bite back a laugh.

“It’s okay, girl,” he said. “You can drop it.”

Instead, Echo took a hesitant step forward and nose-nudged the brush toward the paper. A splotch of yellow appeared. Oliver clapped his hands in delight.

“She did it! She’s an artist!”

Echo’s tail began to wag, tentatively at first, then with growing enthusiasm. She pushed the paintbrush against the paper again, making a long, jagged line.

And there it was—joy. Pure, uncomplicated joy on Echo’s face as she looked from the paper to Oliver to Jax. Her tail wagged so hard her whole body shook with it.

Jax had spent so many years repressing every feeling that the sudden, tectonic shift inside him nearly dropped him to his knees.

He’d done this. He’d taken a broken, terrified animal and helped her find happiness again. Not by force or dominance, but through patience and care.

It was the opposite of everything he’d ever done before.

“Mom!” Oliver called through the open door. “Come see Echo painting!”

Jax tensed, his eyes going to the bakery entrance.

A moment later, Nessie appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, wisps escaping around her face.

She looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes, but still beautiful in a way that made his throat tight.

“Oliver, honey, I told you not to—” She froze when she saw Jax, her expression shuttering. “Oh.”

Just that. One syllable, flat and cold.

“Hey, Ness,” he said, trying to ignore the way his pulse kicked up as he climbed to his feet. “Got a minute?”

She glanced at Oliver, who was still happily painting with Echo, then at Jonah, who suddenly found the mountains in the distance fascinating.

“I need to get back inside,” she said. “I have… a lot to do.”

“Just five minutes. Please.”

She hesitated, then nodded once, sharp and reluctant. “Oliver, stay with Jonah, okay? I need to talk to Jax.”

“Okay, Mom!” The boy didn’t even look up, too engrossed in his collaboration with Echo.

Nessie stepped back inside, holding the door for Jax. He followed her through the empty bakery to the small office in the back. The moment the door closed behind them, she crossed her arms, putting physical distance between them.

“What do you want, Jax?”

The ice in the question felt like getting hit with shrapnel all over again. “I’ve been calling you.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t answer.”

She looked away. “I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to text back ‘I’m alive’?” He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. Failed.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” She sighed, and her shoulders dropped slightly. “Everything’s complicated right now.”

“Because of the murder investigation.”

“Among other things.”

“You think I did it.” It wasn’t a question.

Her gaze snapped back to his. “No!” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I don’t.”

Jax felt something cold settle in his stomach. “But you’re not sure.”

She didn’t deny it. Just stood there, looking at him with those big brown eyes that used to warm when they saw him. Now they were guarded, uncertain.

“You know me, Ness,” he said quietly. “You know I wouldn’t?—”

“Do I?” she interrupted. “Do I really know you, Jax? Because sometimes I think I don’t know you at all.”

The words landed like body blows. He took a step back, his back hitting the door.

“What happened?” he asked. “Who was in that SUV?”

“I don’t know.”

She was lying. “Talk to me, Nessie. What changed?”

“Nothing.” She ran a hand over her face. “Everything. I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have right now.” She looked up at him, and for a moment, he saw a flash of the Nessie he knew—vulnerable, honest. “I need time, Jax. Space to figure things out.”

“Is this because I punched Murdock?” He didn’t know what she’d been through, but he knew whatever happened had been violent. He’d let his anger get the better of him, and now she was pulling away. “I know you hate violence, and I’m sorry?—”

“It’s not just that.” She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly looking smaller. “Though seeing you like that... it did scare me.”

The admission hit him harder than any punch.

The look she was giving him now… he’d seen that look before on the faces of the people who’d witnessed what he was capable of when the darkness took hold.

Sheriff Rawlings. Shane. Alexis. Rylan. Even his lawyer, Cal, had looked at him like he was something dangerous that might snap at any moment.

Maybe he was.

“I would never hurt you,” he said more roughly than he wanted. “Never.”

“I know that.” But she still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not about what you’d do to me, Jax. It’s about what you’d do to others if you thought they were a threat to me.” She hesitated. “I know what you’re capable of. I read all the articles, remember?”

Blood rushed in his ears until he could hear nothing but the dull roar, and his throat closed up around a hard knot of shame. “You weren’t bothered by it a few days ago.”

She twisted her hands in front of her, then seemed to realize what she was doing and dropped them to her sides. “Well, I am now.”

“I wasn’t… well then, Nessie. But I’ve been in therapy, I’m clean and sober, I take my meds faithfully—” His voice cracked, and he had to stop and take a breath. “I don’t know who I am now, but I do know I don’t want to be that man I was ever again.”

She was silent for several long, heavy minutes.

“Nessie, please. Say something.”

She finally lifted her gaze to his, and tears glimmered in her eyes.

“I know all that, Jax. I do. But, even with all the work you’ve done, you’re still just one bad day away from ending up back in prison.

You proved that this week, and…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head as the tears spilled over.

“I’m sorry. I can’t have you around my son. ”

With that, she hurried past him and waited until he moved out of the way so she could pull open the door.

“Nessie…”

She didn’t look back, and a moment later, he heard her footsteps on the stairs going up to her apartment.

He slumped against the wall as all the air left his lungs. That familiar black hole opened in his chest, the one that whispered she was right, he was poison, and everyone he cared about would be better off without him.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway, his hands shaking.

The black hole in his chest expanded, swallowing everything good he’d managed to build over the past few weeks.

The sound of Oliver’s laughter drifted in from outside, bright and innocent, and it cut through him like a blade.

She was protecting her son, and he couldn’t fault her for that. What kind of mother would she be if she didn’t?

But Christ, it hurt.

He pushed himself off the wall and walked back through the bakery on unsteady legs. The cheerful décor—the cartoon sea monster logo, the mismatched chairs, the hand-painted signs—all felt like mockery now. It was just another reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Outside, Oliver was still painting with Echo, completely absorbed in their shared masterpiece. Jonah stood nearby, hands in his pockets, watching the boy and dog with a soft smile. When he saw Jax emerge from the bakery, that smile faded.

“Look, Jax!” Oliver held up the paper, now covered in splotches and swirls of color. “Echo made a flower!”

Jax stared at the abstract mess of paint. It looked like a tornado had hit a rainbow, but the pride on Oliver’s face shattered what little armor he had left. He felt raw, peeled open, like everything he’d tried to protect inside him was suddenly on display.

“It’s beautiful, buddy,” he managed, his voice so hoarse he barely recognized it as his own.

Jonah jerked his head toward the truck and mouthed, “Go on.” Then he knelt to Oliver’s level. “Hey, pal, Jax and Echo gotta get back to the ranch now. Let’s go find your mom and show her…”

Jax tuned the rest of it out and strode for the truck, calling on every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep himself together. He didn’t trust himself to say bye to Oliver without breaking down, and he didn’t want to upset the boy.

He’d just have to let Nessie figure out what to tell him.

Jax yanked the passenger door open and pulled himself up into the seat. As he reached to pull the door shut, he was surprised to see Echo right there behind him. She jumped up into his lap, and he lost it.

He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her fur and cried.

When Jonah returned from taking Oliver upstairs, he didn’t comment on the tears. He just cranked the key in the ignition and pointed the truck back toward Valor Ridge.