by V. Theia
It was with the peace he craved, not this constant racket. The prison never shut up. There was always one nutcase or another losing his mind.
Lawless had so many more months of this shit, he needed to adjust.
Two more years on top of the year he’d served already, according to Archie, the attorney extraordinaire. He’d earn parole in if he kept his head down. That was a bunch of prison noise crawling through the gray matter to endure.
While he had something to aim for, Lawless knew how to keep his brain occupied. Now that was over, he was a blowing leaf in the wind … and that never worked out well for him.
He needed a project.
He cast a thought to innocent Bennie … nah, that kid was not Lawless worthy. He’d probably piss himself if Lawless was ever nice to him. Besides, the kid would be out in a few months.
Setting his busy mind to Benz.
Call him curious, he had questions of why he’d come to visit.
He didn’t get very far with that because the clank of a key in the door brought his and Bennie’s head up.
Dipshits thought this was the Hilton.
Dreyers stepped in and eyed Bennie.
Lawless stayed on the bed, eyeing the uniformed maggot with boredom.
“Turn deaf, Bennie,” he told his cellie who replied, “you got it, boss,” his head buried so far in the comic, he almost became one with the ink.
“There’s a game tonight,” Dreyers told him. Surprised, since Lawless wiped the guards out the last time.
“Sure,” he agreed. He might even let one of them win a round. They were whiny meat when they lost. “I want something though.” He added and watched Dreyers eyes darken to lust filled puddles.
Not that, bad maggot. He’d already mentally thrown that fish back into the sea.
“I need a phone.”
Dreyers snorted. “I’ll get you a helicopter on the roof too, some showgirls while I’m feeling generous.”
Bennie chuckled, covering it up with a cough.
“A phone will do.”
“Get fucking real, I’m not getting caught bringing a phone through security.”
Lawless only smiled and swung his legs off the bed, rising slowly.
Aroused maggot watched his every move as he approached.
Intimidation came easy to Lawless—he didn’t even have to try—but then so did sexual persuasion. Dreyers chest expanded. Then he dropped his blond head, stuck both hands into his tight black pants pockets and rocked on his heels.
“It’s a one-time thing, I don’t want to keep it. I need to talk to my boys without you assholes listening in.”
Bennie swallowed a chuckle in the background.
“You realize you’re in lock up, yeah? You’re not at a holiday camp.”
Turns out it didn’t take much persuasion. Good maggot. Maybe Dreyers went home that night with more advice on how to seduce his quiet wife out of her panties. Whatever happened, the guard came into work the following day, he navigated Lawless into the library and handed over an old Nokia burner phone, telling him he had five minutes.
Behind a shelf of Wuthering Heights, Lawless put a call through to the clubhouse. He first talked to Snake and Rider, doing the obligatory check in, letting his friends know he was fine. But then he talked to Grinder and got the Tracker on the scent of Benz.
He wasn’t saying he didn’t trust the guy.
But he didn’t trust the guy.
And he wanted to know where Benz was currently.
It occurred to him he could call Angela to check on her too. The decision weighed on him until he snarled his stupidity and handed the phone over to Dreyers.
A few days later, Grinder drove through with a report. Benz was in New York, doing shady deals with the Bianchi crime family, as always ruling his depraved stable of humans.
Lawless breathed, letting air into his lungs.
Good, that was good.
He didn’t have beef with Benz but being near again … was like asking for war to start.
They were fire and gasoline.
The prison smell filled Lawless’ nose as he relaxed in the library, with two books on his lap. He’d read them already, but this place was slim pickings. He liked the quiet, no asshole ventured in, too illiterate and allergic to the books.
He was mentally checking off the days in his head.
Hoping he stayed sane for the duration.
Semi praying he didn’t catch a wild hair and go off half-cocked.
The last thing the state of Wyoming needed was a rioting psycho.
Ah, what was a guy to do with so much time on his hands and altogether too much time to think.
Judge was coming this weekend.
He could wait until then.
Wait to know.
Dying to know.
Loathe to know.
Even nutcases had their quirks and Lawless was collecting them like pebbles from a beach.
Fingers toyed with the torn cover of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, a fucking classic and he’d argue with anyone who said different. His mind was constantly busy.
He was a bastard.
An uncaring, unfeeling, un-everything most of the time. But then there were slithers of light through his cracks and sometimes Lawless did the right thing.
The right thing according to his law and often times that was slightly…crooked.
While he read that afternoon away, knowing he had so much confinement ahead of him, where the insanity of it would chew through his soft tissue and urge to become … unstable, he got lost in his deep, dark deviant thoughts.
The right thing in this case had cost him.
A lot as it happened.
But it was a price he’d been willing to pay.
And pay it well. So fucking well, no one would know the deepness of his well.
Goddamn, he’d turned into Joan of Arc.
Burn him now.
The flames of Lawless’ decisions tickled him for days and months.
Day after day.
And each time he faltered—seeking the solace of his deviant mind, he delved into the sludge of his memories, telling himself it wasn’t forever.
He’d be free to … well.
All in good time.
He set her free so she could live without him at the center.
He set her free so he could die in misery.
No one needed a monster puppeteer.
Not a headcase like Lawless.
Some fish needed to be free … to swim in their own pond and to find a life worth living.
Protecting your family wasn’t always guns and war.
It wasn’t big gestures that earned heavenly wings.
It was making sure they were going to be fine without you.
Now there was nothing but time in front of Lawless.
The enforcer, while incarcerated, still had a job to do and that was counting the days until he took free air into his lungs again.
Ah, a lot of messed up shit could happen between now and then.
Maybe he shouldn’t count his fish before they hatched. Or however that saying went. Because as Lawless knew for certain, he attracted a certain personality into his orbit and it wasn’t always … good for him.
Tick tock, he thought.
All he had was time.
Patience and waiting.
Story of his crazy life.
ACT IV
Stay tuned…..the best is yet to come…
It’s not the end … only the beginning for Lawless, his MAIN book will come…. If he can be a good biker and serve his time, that is.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
For my tribe, I couldn’t do it without you. You make my words shine. You read first drafts and second drafts and drafts that just stink and you always, always have an encouraging pep talk for me. I love your dedication. Thank you so much!
Biker babes, I do this for you. This book is FOR YOU. Without your devotion and ferocious hunger for Lawless, and all the messages you
send me almost daily asking “When is Lawless’” book, this might never have happened. Thank you from the bottom of Lawless’ soulless heart…We have so many more biker goodies to come!
Also by V. THEIA
Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Series:
Dirty Salvation
Preacher Man
Tracking Luxe
Hades Novella
Filthy Love
Finally Winter
Mistletoe and Outlaws Novella
Resurfaced Passion
Intimately Faithful Novella
Indecent Lies
Taboo Love Duet:
It Was Love
It Was Always Love
From Manhattan Series:
Manhattan Sugar
Manhattan Bet
Manhattan Storm
Manhattan Secret
Manhattan Heart
Naughty Irish Series:
Naughty Irish Liar
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