by Debra Kayn
She lifted her chin. "I know he's in prison. I want to go see him but don't know where he's at...which prison he's in."
"I'll get back to you on that." He toed the kickstand.
"Chief? Wait..." She stepped closer. "How is Johanna and...and Jackie, and the baby?"
His gaze narrowed. She'd left Johanna in the lurch when the social worker caught her at the store buying diapers. Over the last two years, she'd thought about her and the kids a lot.
Johanna never pressured her to answer tough questions and gave her a chance. As an overprotective mother, Johanna had slowly trusted her around the kids. Looking back, she appreciated having someone not judge her during the time she was with Jett.
She waited for Chief to answer but the motorcycle started, and she stepped out of his way without finding out about his family.
Chief rode his motorcycle in a circle around her and raced down the driveway. She looked down at her hand at the single key on a silver ring. A shudder quaked inside of her.
Hurrying to the door, she unlocked the house and rushed inside. A small part of her wanted to believe Jett was waiting for her. She even called his name as she walked down the hallway and to the bedroom.
She stood in the doorway and stared at the unmade bed. Neither one of them believed in making a bed if they were going to sleep in it again that night. Drawn into the room, she dropped her duffle and crawled up on the mattress.
Hugging Jett's pillow to her chest, she drew her legs up and closed her eyes. The silence in the house surrounded her.
Never before had time seemed so long. The two years of being in JDH might as well have been ten years, not knowing what was happening to Jett, she dreamed nightly about walking back into his life like nothing had happened. Her thoughts resembled dreams, and there were times when she'd wondered if she made their whole relationship up.
It was hard to imagine a man Jett's age being interested in her.
She'd tried to convince herself that she'd mistook his caring for her as something more when Jett probably was only indulging her crush.
She inhaled a shaky breath. It was more than a crush, and he had wanted her.
Going by Chief's lack of happiness over seeing her after two years, she started to get nervous. Then, she realized that she was in Jett's house, lying on his bed, and no matter the changes they both had gone through, he still welcomed her into his life.
That had to mean something.
Chapter Twenty Four
Every day over the last month had crept by living in Jett's house alone with no one to talk with and yet standing outside the Seattle Penitentiary, time ticked faster than Sydney could process. She stood only feet away from Jett inside, hoping to feel close to him.
She only felt like a girl standing outside a prison scared to go in and see the man she'd thought about daily, hourly, for the last two years and four months. Reality settled over her.
He'd probably forgotten his promise to find her considering his circumstances had changed. There were more important things for him to think about since his arrest.
She gathered her hair in her hands and pulled the strands in front of her shoulder. No stranger to the Cyclone fence and ugly drab gray concrete building, she had no idea what happened inside an adult prison or how visitations worked.
"I'll be going inside with you." Olin left his helmet on the handlebar of his motorcycle.
She walked with Jett's brother toward the entrance. Nobody from Brikken gave her any warning that she was going to see Jett today or told her where he was located. Olin showed up at the house out of the blue and told her he was taking her.
"Does he know I'm coming?" she asked.
Olin looked at her without answering. Her nervousness tripled. The sons of Chief were as intimidating as their father. They also had the ability to make her feel overpowered.
"Okay," she muttered, walking through the gate behind Olin.
At the front desk, they were ushered to separate rooms, frisked, pockets emptied, and questioned. They even had her remove her earrings. Then, she signed the rules paper letting her know if she passed any contraband to the prisoner or resorted to violence, she would be committing a crime punishable by the courts or some stupid nonsense.
Led to a door, she walked into a room full of tables and chairs and about twenty other people. She found Olin sitting in the far corner and walked over and sat down beside him.
If anyone looked hard at her, they'd find her trembling.
She couldn't even breathe.
There wasn't enough oxygen in the crowded room.
Family members of the prisoners talked in low conversations around her. She wanted to stand up and pace but knew her feet in her current nervous state would trip her.
The attendant mentioned they would have one hour with the prisoner. She glanced at Olin. Did he plan to stay the whole time?
"Calm the fuck down," muttered Olin. "It's not like you're the one living behind bars for four years."
Shocked at Olin's vehemence, her legs stopped jumping, and she separated her clasped hands. She ducked her chin and stared at the surface of the table. Olin was right.
Jett's stay wasn't in a juvenile facility where education was part of the routine, and they provided group therapy, time outside, and guidance. He was spending hard time in a prison where he could be killed, harmed, and had to fight the demons of isolation away from his family, his club.
A soft hum entered the room. She lifted her gaze and found men escorted into the area from the steel door. Searching the people, her eyes were drawn above their heads to the man in the back, taller than the others.
Her heart beat loudly, echoing in her head. She couldn't feel her hands. Oh, my God, she couldn't feel her body.
Jett stared at her. She couldn't look away and panted for breath. Hyperventilating wouldn't help her if she passed out.
He looked different but the same.
His hair, while always long, hung even longer, parted in the center and meshing with his overgrown beard that hit the middle of his chest.
He'd aged.
There were wrinkles where there were none before. The tan he'd had was gone, and the paleness of his skin shocked her into moving. She planted her hands on the table and pushed out of the chair.
Olin's hand clamped down on her arm and pulled her back. Her butt landed hard on the chair. Stunned, she snapped out of the shocking reaction to Jett and studied him intently as he took the chair across from her.
The corner of his mouth was swollen, and he had a cut on his lower lip. She soaked him all in. A bruise covered his cheekbone making his scar stand out even whiter.
She had no idea what to say. It was Jett, but it wasn't Jett. It wasn't her Jett.
With her Jett, she could tell if she pleased him or if she'd angered him. His eyes would often go cold and hot, soft and hard.
He sat across from her and stared at her with a blankness that radiated no feelings. Her eyes burned, and she blinked, needing to look away.
"Don't," he said, his voice more gravely than she remembered. "You don’t have the right to look away."
"What?" she said, her voice croaking.
Her stiffened spine ached. She held on to the table, afraid if she let go, she'd crumble. He was supposed to be excited to see her, and he...he was angry.
"At the store." She nodded, encouraging herself. "M-my social worker spotted me buying the diapers." She swallowed hard. "I wanted to stay with you. I never would've gone inside if I thought I would be caught. They put me in a group home on the other side of Tacoma. I tried to run away to tell you what happened, hoping you would help me, and I could live with you again."
"Lower your voice," muttered Olin.
She glanced around the room, having forgotten that others were around and her voice grew higher with her need to explain why she was taken away from him. "The social worker couldn't place me in any of the foster homes and sent me to JDH. I tried to find you as soon as I got out."
&n
bsp; "And, here I am, sitting in prison," said Jett.
The loss of him in her life more poignant seeing him across from her. Unable to touch him, she failed to make things right. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how much she thought of him, how much she wanted to be there for him after his sentence was over. But, Olin sat there listening to both of them.
Uncomfortable spilling her guts, she wasn't even sure Jett wanted to hear from her. She thought telling him what she'd gone through would be enough to be back in his life. Maybe she was wrong.
Olin stood and walked away from the table.
As if his leaving was a sign for her to talk privately, she said, "I've missed you."
"Did you now?"
"Yes...yes." Hurt that he'd doubt her when she'd had to choose between him or her sister and she'd done the best she could trying to keep both of them. Sure, she messed up.
The morning she got caught by her social worker, she never should've gone inside the store, and if she had, she should've worn makeup to make herself look older. She never went out in public after running away without disguising herself to look older and unrecognizable. That morning, she hadn't put any makeup on because Jett preferred her bare-faced. It was a mistake she'd regret for the rest of her life. "I wasn't running away from you."
"Not that time." His mouth tightened making the whiskers under his bottom lip stand out.
"I know you're mad," she said softly. "There's so much I want to explain, and I can now. I couldn't back then."
His gaze narrowed.
She moistened her lips. "I have a sister."
"Met her."
She leaned forward, pressing against the table. "I needed to protect her. She's in a good home. That wasn't always...she wasn't always in good foster homes, Jett. The family that she's with is strict, and they let me visit every Sunday because I had them believing I was her older sister. It's why I dyed my hair black and acted older. They didn't want anyone to know she had a sister. That's why I kept trying to leave you. I-I used to visit Kylie every Sunday, and when I couldn't, Kylie would get worried and upset. I'm her sister. The only family member she has, and I will never leave her. You have to believe me that I would've come back to you after seeing Kylie. I didn't want to leave you."
Olin returned and slid two candy bars in front of Jett. He opened one and bit off half the bar.
His lack of a reaction over what she'd told him confused her more. Two years ago, he wanted her to tell him why she needed to run away. She finally gave him the answers, and he acted like she'd discussed the weather.
Jett looked at Olin. "Ashley still around?"
"Nah, man." Olin opened a bag of chips and popped a Dorito into his mouth. "She's moved on, and I decided one woman isn't enough."
"Bullshit." Jett narrowed his gaze. "Ashley will never move on."
Olin shrugged. "She's got some fucked up ideas."
He couldn't imagine Ashley involved with anyone else but Olin. If he had to guess, it was his brother who was trying to push Ashley into doing something she wasn't comfortable doing. His brother was a risk taker. Half the time, he let his mood dictate his next step.
"How's Mom?" asked Jett.
"She's got a boyfriend. Nobody from Brikken." Olin shrugged. "He sells homeowners insurance. His name's Bob, if that wasn't bad enough."
"Is he good to her?"
Olin nodded. "She's happy."
Jett finished his candy bar. "Anything else?"
"Not anything new." Olin pointed at the table. "Better eat the other candy bar. Chief's orders."
Chief wanted Jett to eat candy? She looked between the two men. They'd both locked her out of a conversation that made no sense to her.
She took the time to study Jett more. He winced when he lifted his right arm, and his knuckles were all battered with little red cuts. She raised her gaze. If she shut out the noise and watched his mouth while he chewed, she could believe he was talking to her.
"Missed you, Syd."
"Wait for me."
"I am so glad to see your beautiful face."
"Syd?"
She sighed, loving the sound of his voice.
"Sydney."
Snapped out of creating the perfect reunion, she sat straighter. "Yes?"
"Did you hear? I want you to stay at the house," said Jett.
Excited that he'd allow her in his home, she nodded. "I was going to ask you if Kylie can move in with me. It won't be right away. She has to graduate in June, so almost nine months. But, she'll have to move out of her foster parents' house at that time and wants to be with me."
"I'm not talking about your sister today." He scooted his chair back at the announcement that visiting hour was over.
She stood. "Can I come back and see you?"
He scratched his jaw through his thick beard. "Someone will let you know."
Jett stepped to the side of the table, embraced Olin, slapping him on the back, and whispered something she couldn't overhear. She fiddled with the hole on the back pocket of her jeans.
The moment Olin stepped back, she stepped forward. Her heart raced, wanting to touch him, to feel his big arms around her. It was the closest she'd been to him in two years, and it was so different, so exciting, so scary.
"Jett," she whispered, looking up at him, silently begging him to wrap her in his arms.
He continued gazing over her head, lifted his chin to Olin, then turned and walked away leaving her standing there. She stared at his back as he lined up beside the door, willing him to look at her.
If there was a purpose to him ignoring her, she wanted to know the reason. Hearing other people in the room sniffling and openly crying, her throat spasmed. She understood the heartbreak sweeping across the room they were all going through and refused to let her feelings show.
The door opened.
The prisoners left the room.
The door shut.
She waited, hoping Jett would come back into the room and explain what was going on. Olin touched her back. She jolted, glanced at him motioning to leave, and followed him out, hopeless over Jett's rejection.
He'd been the one man she wanted to believe in.
Chapter Twenty Five
Fourth in line waiting to enter the visitation room, Jett stared at the back of the inmate's head in front of him. One of the three guards stopped beside him. Keeping his cool under the inspection, he understood that he could be rejected for the appearance of his face.
The corner of his mouth was swollen, and he had a cut on his lower lip. A bruise covered his cheekbone. He kept his bruised and cut up right hand to the side of his leg, out of sight of the guard.
"What happened to you, inmate?" The guard leaned closer.
"Walked into the top bunk, sir." Jett relaxed his jaw.
Jenkins, a guard he'd paid off to clear him for visitation, yelled from the end of the line. The guard inspecting him walked off.
Jett closed his eyes an extra beat. Jenkins could've been faster. That was too close of a call.
It'd been six months since he'd allowed Sydney to visit him, and she sat on the other side of the door waiting for him. He inhaled deeply, keeping his head. To be denied the visitation because of his injuries would only fuel the rage that was constantly inside of him. A rage that got him in the condition he was in today.
He'd lived his life in control of his emotions. The fights he sought were a way to blow off steam or to further his purpose of gaining respect for someday being the president of Brikken. What'd happened to him yesterday was Sydney's fault.
She'd made him lose his damn head.
Chief found her inviting the same Brikken members who guarded the house into putting money down on some game and taking them for two thousand dollars. Her excuse—she needed to provide Kylie with the essentials for when she graduated in June.
"All right, inmates, keep your hands and body to yourself. If we see you touching or being touched under the table, you'll be restricted from visitations for six
months. Stay in your seat and enjoy the time with your loved ones." A male guard opened the door.
He walked forward into the room and spotted Sydney instantly. She sat alone at the table—a request he'd made to Chief. He hoped going six months without seeing him would add to her punishment.
Two and a half years without having his dick in pussy, he hardened at the sight of her. He took the seat across from her. He inhaled and almost groaned. He could smell the apple scent of her shampoo from three feet away and wondered if he was only punishing himself.
She scooted to the edge of the chair. He couldn't take his gaze off her eyes. She no longer applied layers of makeup, resembling a punk rocker, though her plump lips, pink and shiny, partially opened as if she wanted to say something but stopped herself.
No longer looking like a sixteen-year-old girl but a young woman. A sexy young woman, a man of any age would look at twice, and he wasn't on the outside to keep those men away and protect her.
"You're going to give the money you conned out of the Brikken men to Chief, so he can pay them back," he said.
"I conned them because they follow me everywhere and I don't have a moment where I can con non-Brikken men," she said. "Kylie will need things like a dresser for the bedroom, money for the bus because she wants to look for a job."
Good. She was pissed. It was easier to make her pay for her betrayal when she had an attitude. It was when she talked sweet and depended on him that he found it hard to deal with her.
"You live in my house, you follow my rules."
"Maybe I'll move." She shrugged. "You obviously don't want me anymore."
He sprawled his hands on his thighs. "I want you at home when I'm released. I want you in my bed. I want to fuck you like I've wanted to do since you bawled your eyes out the night we met."
If she wanted him to talk, he'd fucking talk.
She shook her head. "Why are you treating me like you hate me?"
"I'm losing four years of my life because of you." His chest tightened. "Brikken is out there running without me. I'm away from the empire my grandfather built, not doing my share of the work. Because I'm locked inside, I've lost four years of riding besides losing time with Chief, taking care of my mom, and sharing life with Olin and Thorn. My baby sisters won't even remember their brother when I return."
