Southern Storms (Compass 1)

He turned toward her, shocked that she had finally left her house after so many years. “What are you doing here?” he asked her, confusion filling his stare.

Joy gave him the kind of smile that makes all broken hearts heal. She took his hand into hers and held it tight. “I go where the love is,” she calmly replied. “Which means I go where you are.”

My heart almost exploded as I witnessed them sharing this moment.

“Thank you, Joy,” Jax whispered.

“Always,” she replied.

When it came time for Jax to say a few words, he wasn’t certain what should be said. “Most of you never knew my father, and those of you who did, you didn’t know him to be the greatest man. It’s ridiculous for me to pretend he was a good father to me, because he wasn’t. He was cruel, and hard, and most of the days, I hated him, and still…” He took in a breath. “You ever hate someone so much and still miss them at the same time? That’s how jaded my love for my father is. All I ever wanted to do was make him proud, even down to his final days.”

Jax reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the novel he’d been reading to his father. “This was the book my father saw my mother reading the first day they met. He said he read it because he wanted something they could connect on. I’m not going to lie and pretend my parents had a great relationship, because they didn’t. They had flaws, like us all, but this book connected them, and I wanted to finish reading it to him before his last days so I could find a connection with him, too. I fell a couple chapters short, which is how I felt about our relationship in general. We fell a couple chapters short.”

Sniffling, he brushed his hand beneath his nose and shrugged. “I hope he finds peace in the darkness, and I hope wherever he goes, morning will come, and he’ll be given another chance at finding his light.”

He lowered his head as his emotions overtook him. I hurried to his side to hold his hand. Eddie moved in too and took the book from his hand.

“What are you doing?” Jax asked.

“I’m going to read a few chapters,” Eddie said, flipping through the pages. “Because the book is not done until the last word is read.”

“There is still a way to go, Eddie,” Jax argued. “You can’t read all of it.”

“I’ll read some, too,” Yoana cut in, and like a chain reaction, everyone stepped up to read along as we stood around Cole’s casket. It was the most beautiful moment I’d ever witnessed. We passed the book around, one by one, and when it came to the last page, Jax read the words out loud.

When he finished, he placed the novel on top of the casket and said his final goodbyes.

Then we all walked back to our cars holding each other’s hands, because walking alone wasn’t something we’d ever have to do again.

33

Kennedy

After the funeral, we headed over to Jax’s house. It seemed he was handling things pretty well up until it came time for him and Derek to go through their father’s belongings. They’d been in Cole’s office for a while before I heard Jax shout, “This is bullshit!”

Alarmed, I checked in on the two of them to make sure they were okay, and the moment I saw Jax, my heart began to break.

His eyes looked heavy—tired—and his hands were wrapped around a glass of whiskey.

We hadn’t had a chance to change out of our outfits from the funeral. We hadn’t had a chance to even think, really. Jax’s black suit was unbuttoned, his tie was undone, and his internal light had slowly burned out.

“We’ll figure this out, Jax. Don’t worry,” Derek said, his voice somber. He turned to walk out of the office and gave me a halfway grin. “Take care of him?”

“I will.” Derek closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with a very upset looking Jax. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“He was an asshole.” Jax nodded, looking down at the glass, which was shaking. “And I don’t mean that in a ‘I’m a grown-ass man with daddy issues’ way. No, I simply mean he was an asshole. No one showed up to his funeral because he was an asshole. No one other than me visited him in the hospital because he was an asshole. To the very end, even after death, he was a fucking asshole.” He chuckled, but we both knew there was nothing funny. Every laugh felt like a stab. Every smile felt like pain.

I leaned against the doorframe and stared at him. “Jax…”

“Don’t,” he hissed, lifting the glass from the desk. “Don’t make me feel better. I don’t want your light right now.”