I swore I’d never go here with him again and yet part of me dares to hope that for once I truly am first choice.
Chapter Two
Yesterday
“Riley Fisher,” Officer Kemp bellows, stopping at my cell. “Gather your personal items.”
“What’d I do now?” I glance to my bunkmate, but he seems as clueless as I am.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day. Just received your release papers.”
“My what?” I can’t hide the grin twitching at the corners of my lips. If he’s fucking with me, I swear I’ll rip out his eyeballs and play ping pong with them.
“You heard me. Your stay at our luxurious resort is over.”
I look at my bare necessities and at my cellmate. “Keep it. Trade it. Whatever. Nothing here I need.”
“Appreciate it, man.” He gives me a chin lift. Brave little fuck is practically a baby. Eighteen years old. But a bad ass hero. Stabbed his stepfather in the neck for touching his sister. Bastard didn’t die. Not yet. Motherfucker will get his though. Best believe that.
“Look me up when you’re released. I’ll sponsor you.”
“I’ll do that.”
Officer Kemp opens the cell door and escorts me out of general population for the last time. First thing I’m doing is tracking down Freya and getting a taste of that sweet pussy of hers. Fuck. I’ve missed her. I’m given my clothes I was wearing when I was arrested along with my wallet and keys. Cell phone too. The damn thing is dead and without a service plan anyway. I’m on Parole for the remainder of my sentence. I can live with that.
It takes about an hour to finish processing me for release.
The moment my feet hit the pavement I’m tempted to kneel and kiss it. Never thought this motherfuckin’ day would come. The winter sun kisses my cheeks and I start walking. It’s colder than a polar bears balls but I don’t care. I’m free.
Freya. Baby, I’m coming for you.
I don’t know what I’m coming home to, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to win her back. My girl hasn’t taken my calls or returned any of my letters. Three years I’ve gone unanswered. Three years without her face. Three years without her touch. Fuck me I’m getting hard merely thinking about seeing her. The thought of sinking inside that sweet cunt between her thighs is enough to get me off. My hand has worshipped my cock many a night to thoughts of her. Her memory.
Nothing will come between us again.
I open my wallet to discover they left my cash inside. Thank fuck. I know my debit card is outdated. I walk three miles to the gas station thinking of nothing but my woman and sinking balls deep in her pussy. The promise of her and that sweet reward between her thighs is the only way I’ve survived. Her father, who is also my club Prez, came to see me a few times. Kept money in my commissary account. Said Freya was still single. That he knows she’s waiting for me.
Was probably telling me what I wanted to hear. Whether it was the truth or lies doesn’t matter. The promise of her kept me alive. Her memory kept me sane.
Guess I’ll find out how she really feels when I get back to Hell.
I’m about a seven-hour drive from home. I need a ride. I need wheels and fast. Nothing or no one is going to stand between Freya and me. Fortunate for me, there’s a chapter of the BOH about an hour out. Crow’s cousin. A guy named Jackal. Mean son of a bitch. Hopefully Lady Luck continues shining on me and he’ll have a loaner that’ll get me that much closer to Freya.
I buy a pack of peanuts, smokes, a pop, and a lighter.
The chick working behind the counter licks her lips as she stares at the tattoos snaking up my forearms. “You from the prison?”
“What of it?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. I get off in ten if you need a lift.”
“I could use a ride.”
“I bet you could,” she mutters and fiddles with the collar of her polo. My gaze drops to her chest. Bitch has the buttons of her uniform top unbuttoned showing off her cleavage. She’s a chunky thing and wearing too much damn perfume. Heavy eye makeup too. Bet her lipstick leaves a two-inch ring around a man’s dick.
I wonder how many stupid fucks she picks up this way. Probably more than I care to know about. I’m not interested, though I’ll play her game to get a ride to the clubhouse.
“I’ll meet you around back after I clock out. Red Honda.”