“These lyrics are so good,” Zeta says, handing me back my notepad.
“That’s only because I have the best inspiration,” I say, pecking her lips superfast before any of the guards on duty in the common room notice.
“I’ll never be as good as you, and that makes me so envious.” A little crease appears between her brows. “Is it normal to be jealous of your boyfriend?”
“When he’s as hot, sexy, and supremely talented as me, I’d guess that’d be a yes.” I’ve no clue how I manage to say that without laughing. Winding her up is way too easy.
She thumps me in the chest. “What have I told you about reining in that ridiculous ego of yours?” She’s shaking her head, attempting to smother her grin. She’s as good at goading me as I am her, and it’s just another thing I love about her.
“It’s not ego if it’s true.”
“Says the egotistical one.”
I glance over at the guards quickly before capturing her mouth again, only this time I can’t keep it brief. Man, I love kissing her, and I wish we could take things further, but I’m not about to do that in here, because Zeta deserves more than a quick fuck behind the guard’s back, and I’m determined to make our first time as special as it can be. But it’s hard to hold back, not knowing how long I’ll have to wait for her, especially when she turns me on so much jerking off twice daily has become the norm.
Watson, predictably, blows his whistle, stomping toward us like a herd of elephants. I brace myself for it. “No kissing. No touching. You know the rules,” he snaps, glaring at me, before his eyes drop to Zeta’s tits. Her gaze darts to mine, and she cautions me with one of her looks.
“Sorry, Officer Watson,” Zeta says, smiling sweetly at him. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not. I’d hate to have to separate you on a more permanent basis.” Every so often, when we lapse and indulge in PDAs, Watson makes a point of separating us as punishment. It makes me so fucking mad, because he’s gotten away with screwing the female inmates for years. But I know his threat is an empty threat, so I grit my teeth and wait until he’s walked away before unclenching my fists.
“Babe, stop letting him get to you,” Zeta says, discreetly tangling her fingers in mine while Watson’s back is turned. “He wants you to hit him just so he can get your release delayed. Don’t give him the satisfaction. He’s not worth it.”
“I know that, but the way he looks at you fills me with so much rage.”
“He can look all he wants, but the only one who’ll ever be touching me is you.” She drills me with a suggestive look, and it almost works to distract me.
“If he comes near you after I’m gone, I will not be responsible for my actions.” It’s one of my biggest fears—what will happen to her when she’s in here by herself.
“That’s not going to happen. Powell won’t let it. She gave you her word, and I know you trust her.”
I finally caved and went to Powell about Watson. It was risky, but I’m sick of watching him leer over my girlfriend, sick of him bending the rules, and getting away with it. Powell told me she’s always suspected him, but without concrete proof, the administration will not investigate any claims. Instead, she keeps him in line by threatening to report him. She’s promised to ensure he goes nowhere near Zeta after I leave, and I trust her to keep my girl safe. Doesn’t stop me from worrying though.
“I know, but I still worry.” I pluck at the strings of my guitar, a new melody floating through my mind.
“Well, stop, because I know how to defend myself, and I honestly don’t think anyone is going to mess with me after you’re gone. And I have Luc.”
I stop playing, slanting her a look. “Luc couldn’t protect a fly. Kid’s way too soft. If anyone’s doing the protecting after I’m gone, it’ll be you protecting him.”
“I think you underestimate him.”
“Babe, I love Luc like a brother, so don’t think this is me criticizing him, because I’m not. I love that Luc has a big heart, and I hope he never changes.”
“Is that something new?” she asks, narrowing her eyes in concentration. I didn’t realize I’d been absently playing as we spoke.
“It’s just come to me.”
“Give me the notepad.” She holds out her hand for it. “Keep playing,” she encourages after I give it to her, and I let the melody take control, closing my eyes as she starts scribbling furiously.
When I’ve finished, I open my eyes, and my heart melts at the excitement on her face, the passion shimmering in her eyes, as she logs words in my notepad. I’ve always believed Zeta and I were kindred spirits, but discovering she writes songs in her spare time just blew me away.
This girl speaks to me on so many different levels.
When she showed me all the songs she’s written, it was clear she has enormous talent, and that made me giddy with excitement. While I know it’s a pipe dream, my goal is to make my living from music one day. I imagine myself up on a stage, fans screaming, lights blinding, and the rhythmic beat of my band, and it’s everything. Music and Zeta are my life, and once I have both, I’ll be a happy man. Discovering the love of my life shares this creative streak with me gave me the hardest boner of my life. I swear I jerked off four times that day just thinking about it.
Now, every afternoon, when we’re not chatting or stealing sneaky kisses, we work on songs. I write the music, and she writes the lyrics, and then we tweak them together.
It’s the highlight of my day.
Knowing we’re a team, in every sense of the word, only reaffirms my belief that I’ve found the person I’m meant to share my life with. I know she’s my first girlfriend, my first everything, but I don’t need vast experience with the opposite sex to know she’s the one for me.
I feel it in every part of my being with all that I am.
Zeta is the only girl for me, and I’m going to work tirelessly to get her conviction overturned, because living my life without her in it just won’t cut it. She belongs with me, like I belong with her, and I’m going to make it a reality.
There’s only one thing playing on my mind that has the potential to derail what I’ve got going with Zeta, and that’s my past. She’s opened up to me, and I want to return her trust and faith, but I can’t. Because I’m terrified if she knows who I really am that she’ll walk away. At the same time, how can I expect her to commit to a life with me if she doesn’t understand the darkness that resides inside me? I’ve been puzzling over how to handle this as our weeks together start dwindling at a rapid pace, but she ends up taking the decision from me.
It’s four weeks until I’m released, and we’re in the library by ourselves, when she broaches the subject. “Ryder?” I lift my head from its resting place on her neck, hearing the uncertainty in her voice.
“What’s wrong?” I scrutinize her face, looking for evidence of what’s bothering her.
“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just I need to ask you something, and I think you might get mad.”
I wind my fingers through her hair, clasping the back of her neck. “You can ask me anything, Zeta. You should never be afraid to tell me what’s on your mind.” I say that, and I mean it, even as my heart starts thumping in my chest as anxiety rears its ugly head.
“You know why I’m in here, and I just wondered what your story is.” She bites on her lower lip in a way that always has my cock twitching in my pants. “It won’t change anything between us,” she assures me, “but I’m curious about your past because you’ve said some things in passing, and I think we had similar upbringings.” She pauses for a beat, squirming a little in her seat. “This isn’t coming out how I wanted it to.” She sighs. “Just that you’ve helped me a lot, and I want to help you. I know you have stuff on your mind, and I want to understand so I can help.”
I see the truth of her statement written all over her face. There isn’t
any ulterior motive here. She just wants to understand me more, and I get that. I want to tell her but the risk of losing her is too great, so I tell her as much as I can, convincing myself it’s not lying if you conceal parts of the truth.
“My story isn’t a pleasant one. You sure you want to hear it?” I give her one last out.
“I want to know everything there is to know about you,” she quietly confirms, pecking my lips. “And there is nothing you can say which will make me love you any less. I love you to the ends of time, Ryder. I will never not love you.”
I slam my mouth down on hers, kissing her passionately, pouring everything I wish I could say into the kiss. When I pull back, we’re both panting.
“God, I want you so much,” she whispers. “I ache for you, Ryder.”
“I ache for you too, babe, and we’ll get there. Once both of us are free of this hellhole.”
She nods, completely in agreement with me on this even if she craves my body as much as I crave hers.
I lean back in my chair, taking her hand and locking her fingers in mine as I start explaining. “I never knew my dad. He was just one of a number of random men my mother fucked. I don’t understand why my mother kept me. Why she didn’t abort me or give me up for adoption, because a kid didn’t mix with her lifestyle.” I meet her gaze. “My mother was a prostitute too, except, unlike your mom, no one forced her into it. I basically reared myself. Spent much of my youth hanging around the streets, anything to avoid going home. I saw a lot of the same things as you, and I hated being there. We grew up in a poor neighborhood, and I fell in with the wrong crowd, joined a gang, and started doing all kinds of illegal shit.”
This is the part I need to fudge, and I hate that I’m not being wholly truthful even if I don’t have a choice. It’s better she doesn’t know what I’m truly capable of. And, I firmly believe, with her by my side that I can put that behind me and be a better man. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t entertain any notion of “us.”
“What happened?” She rubs my arm in a soothing gesture.
“It was a robbery gone wrong and … and someone died. We were responsible, and we all got sent down for it.”
“Oh.” Her voice is quiet, and I wonder if I’ve said too much even if I haven’t said enough.
“Do you hate me now?”
“What? No! Of course not.” She kisses me. “I love you. I could never hate you.”
“Famous last words,” I murmur, feeling sick to my stomach.
“Ryder, look at me.” She forces my face to hers. “I don’t hate you. At all.” Her nose scrunches up as she tries to find the right words. “I just hurt for you.” She strokes my face, and I lean into her touch. “I know you’re a good person, a good man, and I understand now why you disappear into your head sometimes. I’ve seen my mother killed, and it’s something that will never leave me. I know I’ll be dealing with it for as long as I live.”
“Me, too. I used to see his face every time I closed my eyes but not so much lately.” I raise our conjoined hands to my mouth, kissing her knuckles. “You make everything better, Zeta. You make me believe I’m capable of being good, of being worthy of love.”
“Oh, Ryder. You are both of those things and so much more.” Tears stab her eyes, and she looks at me with so much love in her heart it almost undoes me. “You were only a kid. A kid left to defend for himself. Is it any wonder you made some bad choices?” She rubs her thumb across my mouth. “A very talented, very hot, very wise man once told me we’re not defined by the mistakes of our past, only how we choose to deal with the consequences.”
I told her that one time, when I was trying to make her feel better about her mom, but I’ve never thought that about myself.
Maybe it’s time I started practicing what I preach.
Although I’ve no idea how I even begin to move on from my past in order to do it.
CHAPTER 14
Ryder
“Don’t cry, baby. Please. You’re killing me.” I wrap my arms around Zeta, holding her close. Powell arranged for us to say a private goodbye in one of the rooms usually reserved for attorney visits, and although she’s in the room, it’s much better than doing this in front of everyone. Like that time in the hospital, she has her back to us and her earbuds in, so it’s easy to pretend she’s not here.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Zeta sobs.
“I’ll come visit every week. I promise, and I’m going to miss you every bit as much as you miss me.” Powell came through for us again, appealing to the warden and securing my name on Zeta’s visitor’s list.
“What if you change your mind? What if you forget about me once you settle back into normal life? You’re the only reason I’ve been getting through this. The thought of you not being in my life …”
I hate that she’s having last-minute doubts when she’s been so strong and so positive these past few weeks as we prepared ourselves for this day.
“Zeta.” I turn her face to me, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. “I’m not going to change my mind or forget about you. That’s an impossibility. I love you. Only ever you, and that’s a promise.”
She clings to me, circling her arms around my neck and pressing her warm lips to the underside of my jaw. “I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I’m being selfish.” She sits up straighter, swiping at her tears and forcing a smile on her face. “This is a great day for you, and I’m ruining it by acting like a needy, whiny girlfriend.” She cups my face. “I’m really happy for you. You’ve been here a long time, and you’re finally free!”
“You’re not being selfish, you’re just being human, and I’d rather you tell me how you really feel than pretend with me.” Grabbing her face, I pull her mouth to mine for a long, slow, deep kiss. My tongue flicks against the seam of her lips, and she willingly opens for me. I run my tongue around her mouth, memorizing every taste, every touch, knowing I will need it to keep me going on lonely nights.
When Powell tells me it’s time to leave, I reluctantly break the kiss, pressing my forehead to Zeta’s. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts. If you think our separation isn’t killing me too, then you’re mistaken. I’m sure I’d feel exactly the same if our situations were reversed, but please don’t doubt me, baby.” I peer into her gorgeous brown eyes. “I’m yours. And you’re mine. And this is only temporary, because I’m going to do everything in my power to see that you’re set free. If you want to focus on one truth, focus on that, because I’m not giving up until you’re by my side.”
Readjusting to life outside is harder than I anticipated. A lot has changed since I’ve been in juvie, and I’m feeling more than a little out of my depth.
I managed to graduate with my high school diploma, and Powell hooked me up with Stan, a buddy of hers, who owns a restaurant. He took a chance on me, and I’ve been working as a kitchen hand for the last month. He even rented me the tiny studio apartment above the restaurant, taking rent from my paycheck and giving me a subsidy on meals. I don’t have much left over, but anything I do have, I’m putting away, because I want to save up for a bigger place for when Zeta gets out. I can’t thank Stan or Powell enough for helping me get back on my feet.
Another advantage is the proximity to the juvenile hall. It’s only a thirty-minute bus ride, and I make the trip once a week. I’d be there every day if they granted me daily visitation rights, but I’m lucky they allow me to visit her at all, as that’s usually only reserved for parents and guardians. At this point, I’m considering nominating Powell for sainthood for all she’s done for us.
Zeta is doing well, and I’m proud of her for holding it together. Every visit, I have to force my feet to move once our time is up, and I’m always melancholy on the trip back to the city.
I’m missing her hella bad, and it feels as if I’ve lost half of myself. I try to keep myself busy in my free time so that I don’t fall back into dark t
imes. I do a few extra shifts at the restaurant when they’re available, I jog at least five miles a day, work out at the local public gym, and spend hours playing my guitar and writing new music, and the rest of my time is devoted to tracking down Zeta’s aunt.
I’m practically bouncing into the juvenile center the following week, bursting to tell her the good news.
“Someone looks happy,” she says into the phone.
“I’m always happy to see you. How are you, baby? I missed you.” I blow her a kiss, wishing I could kiss her properly, but the plexiglass separating us prevents that.
She places her hand on the glass, and I line my palm up with hers. “I’m hanging in there. My new attorney submitted the appeal paperwork, and he’s hoping to hear of a court date next week.”
“That’s excellent news. And I have more.”
She arches a brow. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“I located your aunt Jillian, and I’ve spoken to her.”
Shock splays across her face as she gasps. “How did you find her?”
“It wasn’t actually that hard. I found several women named Jillian Roberts on Facebook, and I just reached out to all of them until I found the right Jillian. She didn’t know, Zeta. She didn’t know your mom was dead and that you were in here.”
“That bastard,” she spits out, her face instantly hardening. “Although I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course, Bob wouldn’t tell my mother’s only other living relative that she had passed.”
“She was really upset,” I explain. “And horrified to hear what your stepdad did to you. She feels terrible for not keeping a closer eye on you. She’s been in Australia for years, but she’s coming home, Zeta. She’s coming home for you.”
Tears well in her eyes. “For real?”
I nod, and I can’t contain my grin. “She didn’t hesitate, baby. As soon as she heard you were in here, she dried her tears and said she would make arrangements to return to the US as soon as possible.”
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