Page 114 of Finding His Redemption

“Why doesn’t he have any actual pets?” The question came out before he could stop it, and he immediately regretted it. “Sorry. That’s not?—”

“It’s okay.” Nessie moved closer to the refrigerator, her fingers tracing the edge of one of the drawings. “I’ve wanted to get him something, but...”

She trailed off, and Jax waited. He understood how hard this was for her and wanted her to tell him when she was ready.

“But pets leave paper trails,” she said finally. “Vet records, registration, licenses. Things that can be traced.”

Paper trails.

Things that can be traced.

And the pieces clicked together in his mind. “You’re in witness protection.”

She nodded, still staring at Oliver’s drawings. “For four years.”

Everything made sense now—the way she’d always seemed to be looking over her shoulder, the careful way she talked about her past, the fact that she’d never mentioned Oliver’s father. Even her name, probably.

How much of Nessie Harmon was real?

“What’s your name?”

She lifted her chin stubbornly even as tears shone in her eyes. “Nessie Harmon. I’m not that girl I used to be anymore.”

“But before Nessie?”

She swallowed and looked away, as if ashamed. “Genessa-Rae Sarkisian, trophy wife of Aleksandr Sarkisian.”

“Alek,” he said, remembering the name from earlier. “The one you’re hiding from?”

“Oliver’s father.”

Jax’s stomach dropped. The kid’s father was dangerous enough that the federal government had relocated them, given them new identities. No wonder she’d been so careful about getting involved with him. No wonder she’d pulled away when she’d realized how violent he could be.

“What did he do to you?”

Nessie was quiet for a long moment, her fingers still tracing the edges of Oliver’s artwork. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible.

“He wasn’t like that at first. Alek, I mean. When I met him, he was charming, successful, everything I thought I wanted. I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, trying to make it as an actress in LA. He swept me off my feet.”

She moved away from the refrigerator, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked to the small living room. Jax followed, Echo padding silently beside him.

“He was older, established. He owned restaurants and had connections in the entertainment industry. He said he could help my career, and I believed him. I was so naive.”

Jax settled on the edge of the couch, his hands clenched on his thighs. He could already see where this was going, and it made his jaw ache from how hard he was clenching his back teeth.

“It started small,” Nessie continued, still standing by the window, looking out at the dark street. “He’d suggest what I should wear, who I should talk to. He said he was protecting me, that the industry was dangerous for someone like me. And I bought it because I was young and stupid and thought that’s what love looked like.”

The bitterness in her voice cut through him. He wanted to tell her she wasn’t stupid, that predators were good at what they did, but he sensed she needed to get this out.

“By the time I realized what was happening, I was completely isolated. He’d driven away all my friends, convinced me my family didn’t understand our relationship. And then I got pregnant.”

She turned from the window, and even in the dim light, he saw the pain etched on her face.

“I thought having a baby would change things. Make him softer, maybe. But it just made him more controlling. He monitored everything—what I ate, where I went, who I talked to. He had people watching me all the time. I couldn’t even go to the grocery store alone.”

Jax’s hands were shaking now, and he pressed them against his thighs to still them. The urge to find this Alek Sarkisian and tear him apart was so strong that he vibrated with it.

“I stayed for three more years after Oliver was born,” she whispered. “Six years in total of walking on eggshells, of pretending everything was fine. I told myself I was protecting Oliver, that he needed his father. But really, I was just scared.”

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