Page 69 of Finding His Redemption

Fuck.

O’Brien’s attention shifted back to him. “I’m simply offering you the path to redemption. A man with your... history... must surely feel the weight of his sins.”

The weight of his sins.

If only the pastor knew how heavy that burden truly was.

“I appreciate the concern,” Jax said. “But I’m not looking for redemption. Or salvation.”

If there was a Hell, he knew the devil was keeping a seat warm for him there.

“Everyone is looking for salvation, whether they know it or not.” O’Brien leaned forward, his voice dropping to a confidential murmur. “The Lord can wash away even the darkest stains, Mr. Thorne. Even violence against women.”

Jax went very still. How the hell did he know about that? The sheriff must have been talking, spreading Jax’s past around town like fertilizer.

“Pastor,” Nessie said sharply, returning with a coffee pot. “I’ve asked you multiple times not to sermonize my patrons.”

“I’m simply offering spiritual guidance to a lost soul, Vanessa.”

“Seems to me there are plenty of lost souls closer to home that could use your guidance,” Dewey said, uncharacteristically serious. “Like those kids in your youth program. Wasn’t Bailee one of yours?”

O’Brien’s face hardened, the mask of benevolence slipping for just a moment before he regained control. “I don’t like your tone, Dewey.”

“Well, never like yours, either, Pastor, so guess that makes us even.”

Jax watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. There was history there, something ugly simmering beneath the surface.

Oliver bounded back to the counter, oblivious to the tension, clutching two crumpled papers. “Look, Jax! This is my T-Rex! See his teeth? They’re super sharp for eating other dinosaurs!”

Jax forced himself to focus on the child, grateful for the interruption. “That’s some dinosaur, kid.”

“And this is Tate’s Triceratops,” Oliver continued, holding up the second drawing. “He’s got three horns for fighting. But they were plant-eaters, so they only fought to protect themselves.”

“Very impressive,” Jax said, genuinely impressed by the detail in both drawings.

Pastor O’Brien cleared his throat. “Oliver, perhaps you should take your friend back to play. Grown-ups are talking.”

Oliver frowned, looking between the adults with a child’s keen perception. “Are you being mean to Jax? My mom says we should be nice to everyone, even if they made mistakes before.”

Nessie’s face flushed. “Oliver?—”

“Out of the mouths of babes,” O’Brien murmured.

The bakery door swung open again, and Sheriff Hank Goodwin strode in, flanked by two deputies.

Double fuck.

Coming here had been a bad idea.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as Goodwin’s cold gaze swept over the occupants, finally landing on Jax.

“Well, well,” Goodwin drawled. “Valor Ridge’s newest resident decided to grace us with his presence.”

Jax didn’t respond, just held the sheriff’s gaze steadily. Every muscle in his body had tensed, ready for confrontation, but he kept his expression bored.

“Sheriff,” Nessie greeted, her expression carefully professional. “Coffee?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Goodwin said, leaning against the counter. He winked at an older man sitting nearby. “Special of the day seems to be trouble.”

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