Page 141 of Finding His Redemption

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.

“I’m not going to prison,” Dewey snarled, renewed panic giving him strength. He twisted violently, his knee catching Jax in the ribs.

Dewey scrambled to his feet, but instead of running for the door, he charged at Nessie, who stood frozen in shock.

“No!” Jax roared, lunging after him.

He caught Dewey around the waist, driving him into the counter with enough force to crack the wood. Dewey’s head snapped back, his eyes glazing briefly before refocusing. Heclawed at Jax’s face, fingernails catching his cheek, but Jax barely felt it. All he could think about was keeping this monster away from Nessie.

A crack of flesh and bone broke through the smoke-filled air, and Dewey’s body went suddenly limp in Jax’s grip, slumping forward as his eyes rolled back. Behind him stood Nessie, the empty fire extinguisher clutched in white-knuckled hands, her eyes blazing with anger.

“That’s for Bailee.”

Jax let Dewey fall and reached for her.

“Are you hurt?” His hands shook as he checked her face, her arms, her body, looking for burns or cuts. She was covered in soot and chemical residue from the extinguisher, but her skin was unmarked.

“I’m okay.” The assurance came out hoarse, but whether that was from the smoke or the fear, he couldn’t tell. She did sound shocky when she added, “Jax, you’re bleeding.”

He glanced down at his arm. Blood had soaked through his shirt sleeve, but the flow was already slowing. “It’s nothing.”

The fire department burst through the door first, two firefighters in full gear hauling a hose line. Behind them came Sheriff Goodwin and Deputy Murdock, weapons drawn.

“What the hell happened here?” Goodwin demanded, his gaze moving between Jax and Nessie with obvious suspicion.

Before Jax could answer, Brandt appeared in the doorway, his usually pristine suit wrinkled and his tie askew like he’d been running. His pale eyes took in the scene—the unconscious postal worker, the fire damage, Jax’s bloody arm—and his expression went cold and professional.

“Dewey Stafford killed Bailee Cooper,” Nessie said, stronger now. “He confessed. He was going to burn down the bakery with me inside to cover it up because I saw his truck when he dumped Bailee’s body.”

Deputy Murdock crouched next to Dewey, checking his pulse. “He’s alive. Gonna have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.”

“Good,” Jax said. He meant it. The bastard deserved worse than a headache for what he’d tried to do.

Goodwin holstered his weapon but kept his suspicious gaze fixed on Jax. “You expect me to believe our mailman is a killer?”

“Believe what you want,” Jax said, exhaustion suddenly hitting him like a truck. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind the familiar ache in his bones and the metallic taste of fear in his mouth. “But he just tried to burn Nessie alive.”

Brandt stepped forward. “Sheriff, I suggest you arrest Stafford and read him his rights. We’ll sort out the details later.”

For a moment, Goodwin looked like he wanted to argue. His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he couldn’t quite spit out. Finally, he nodded to Murdock. “Cuff him. And call for an ambulance.”

As the deputy moved to secure Dewey, Jax felt Nessie’s hand slip into his. Her fingers were cold and trembling, but her grip was strong.

He exhaled in relief and lifted her hand to his lips.

She was finally, truly safe.

The firefighters extinguished the last of the flames, but the damage was worse this time. The walls were blackened and blistered, the air thick with the acrid smell of burned plastic and melted metal. What the first fire hadn’t destroyed, this one had finished off.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words scraping his throat raw. “I should have gotten here sooner.”

“You saved my life.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “If you hadn’t broken down that door...”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. They both knew how close it had been.

Through the broken windows, Jax saw a crowd gathering on the sidewalk. Half the town, it looked like, drawn by the sirens and the smoke. He spotted Walker’s truck pulling up, followed by the familiar sight of the Valor Ridge crew spilling out onto the street.

River was the first through the door, his face grim as he took in the scene. “Jesus Christ, Jax. What happened?”

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