Jax couldn’t talk. His lungs were filled with concrete, his tongue weighted down with rocks. He wanted to tell her about all those times in the woods when he stared at his rifle and wondered if what Pammy believed was true—that there was a better life after this one, that his mom was living it up on some fluffy cloud up in the sky. He wondered what it felt like when your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped pulling air, when all those horrible, awful thoughts going through your head just...stopped. He wondered if death hurt or if it was a relief.

“I adore you, Jax, and not because Paul does or because your sweet mother told me to. I’ve loved you since that first day at kindergarten, when you walked up to Paul and asked if he wanted to be friends. There’s sweetness at the core of you, and that’s how I know how much you’re hurting. Because you’re a good man who loves with all his heart and soul.”

Well, hell. What was he supposed to say to that? Nice words and all, but coming from the wrong mother, they didn’t stick. He didn’t feel sweet at his core. He felt mean and ugly and wrong.

“You will survive this, I promise.” Mrs. K leaned forward, grabbed his face in both hands. “I will see to it. Whatever you need, wherever you end up, I’ll always be here for you, sweetheart. Always.”

Ever since, he’d been making more of an effort to show up, mostly so she wouldn’t ever barge into his room again. Once a week he dragged his ass out of the woods, scrubbed off the dirt and grime, and came here, to Paul’s. He said all the right words. He made sure to smile at least once. And judging by Mrs. K’s reaction, it seemed to be working.

She spotted him coming up her back deck, calling to him through the open double doors. “Jax Edwards, you hurry up and get your behind in here. How are you, sweetheart? Come here and give me a hug.”

Mrs. K was a hugger, one of those people who liked physical contact. She was always patting his shoulder and squeezing his hand. Never creepy or inappropriate, just...nice. He’d learned a long time ago it was easier to just stand there and take it. She smelled like flowers and honey.

“Hi, Mrs. K. Thanks for the key chain.”