Chapter 14
The salt-laden breeze hit them long before the ocean came into view, carrying the crisp, damp scent of crashing waves and wet sand. After four days of relentless driving, broken only by cheap motels and roadside diners, the flat expanse of the American continent finally gave way to the jagged cliffs of the Oregon coast.
The sun was sinking low into the horizon, dipping into the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean and turning the water into a sheet of liquid gold and bruised violet. Jax pulled Martha’s truck off the coastal highway onto a gravel turnout perched high above a secluded, rocky cove. He cut the engine, and the roaring crash of the surf filled the cab, drowning out the last echoes of the highway.
“We made it,” Leo whispered, pressing his face against the side window, staring down at the endless expanse of water.
Jax opened his door and stepped out, the cool, damp wind instantly catching his long dark hair and beard. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for Leo. The boy hopped down, his scuffed sneakers crunching on the gravel, and walked slowly to the edge of the wooden barrier, his eyes wide with wonder.
Jax stood beside him, resting his hands on the weathered railing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small leather pouch, untying the faded lace. He slid out his grandfather’s gold ring and the silver Zippo lighter, holding them in his palm.
“Your mom wanted to see this,” Jax said quietly, his voice competing with the roar of the surf below. “She never got the chance. So we’re going to do it for her.”
Jax reached down, taking Leo’s small, pale hand, and placed the gold ring firmly into his palm, closing the boy’s fingers around it.
“Keep this, Leo,” Jax said, looking down into the boy’s hopeful hazel eyes. “It belonged to my grandfather. Now it belongs to you. It means you hold fast, no matter how rough the road gets.”
Leo looked down at his clenched fist, then back up at Jax. A single tear slipped down the boy’s cheek, catching the golden light of the setting sun, but he didn't cry out or sob. He just nodded, his young face settling into the same stubborn, resilient expression that had carried him across state lines with a photograph and a folded note.
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“I’ll hold fast,” Leo promised, his voice steady and clear.
Jax pulled the boy into a sudden, awkward embrace, wrapping his scarred, tattooed arms around the small shoulders. It was the first time he had ever hugged his son, the first time he had ever truly held onto anything real in his entire life. The ocean spray misted their faces, cool and cleansing, washing away the salt of old tears and the bitter ash of the past.
