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 I know my debit card is outdated.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.”

  I shoot her a wink and open my bag of peanuts as I walk out the door. I take a few drinks of my Coke and drop a few peanuts in the bottle. It’s something I’ve enjoyed since I was a kid. Learned the habit from my grandfather. God rest his soul. If he were to see the mistakes I’ve made, he’d die all over again of shame.

  I’ve smoked two cigarettes and finished my pop by the time the woman working the register in the gas station finishes with her shift.

  I climb in the passenger side of her car noting the two car seats in the back. Jesus.

  “Are you in a hurry or want to come home with me for a little fun? I’ll cook you a nice warm meal. Nobody beats my fried chicken.” She starts backing out of the parking lot.

  “Nah, sweetheart. Need to get to Yellowjacket Springs soon as I can.”

  “You got a woman waiting on you?”

  “Something like that.”

  “We could still have some fun.” She offers me a sweet smile, staring at me like she wants nothing more than to suck my damn cock dry.

  “Only need a lift.”

  “Suit yourself.” She deflates but doesn’t push it.

  I’m not looking to be her next baby daddy. I turn up the radio. Some country shit croons from the speakers. I can’t stand that shit. I lower the volume, hoping she doesn’t want to know my life story or to share more of her own.

  “What was you in for anyway?”

  “Petty bullshit.”

  “I don’t judge. Just know when you boys get out, you’re usually looking for a woman to take care of your needs. I get mine and you get yours.”

  “That how you got two kids?”

  She snorts. “No kids.”

  “Then what’s with the car seats?” I hook a thumb toward the items in question that take up the backseat.

  “Keeps the truckers who come in from hitting on me.”

  “But men fresh out of the pen are okay?”

  “Truckers have VD. I protect my kitty.”

  “So, you like to fuck. That it?”

  “I’m not looking to get married. I’ve already got a husband. He’s doing twenty years for vehicular manslaughter. Taking you boys home with me makes me feel like I’m closer to him.”

  And I thought I was fucked up. This bitch is crazy and a bit sad.

  I borrow her cell phone and put in a call to my friend, Shake. Thankfully his number is one I have memorized.

  “Shit. Look what the fucking cat drug in. How’s freedom taste, boy?” Jackal slaps me on the back and welcomes me with a hug. His salt n’ pepper hair is more silver than last time I laid eyes on him.

  “Taste a lot sweeter when I get home to Freya.”

  “No doubt, brother. No doubt. Thought Shake was fucking with me when he said you were out and in the neighborhood.” He thumps me on the back harder. “Someone get this asshole a drink and a whore.”

  I shake my head. Last thing I want is some of his used-up pussy. On the flipside though, I need to build up my stamina for Freya. One look at my woman and I’ll nut on the spot. Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Coulda fucked that fat cunt who gave me a ride but at least here at the clubhouse I know Jackal’s bitches are clean. Brother runs a brothel. It isn’t good for business if the ass he’s selling rots dicks off. His club receives a lot of business from the asshole guards at the prison. Being privy to that information worked to my favor on the inside. Bought my ass protection.

  Wasn’t having to look over my shoulder constantly waiting for someone to shank my ass when the guys in Jackals’ pocket were on duty.

  Jackal shoves me toward the bar where a big titted blonde has a shot of dark liquor waiting for me.

  “Thanks, baby doll.” I knock it back and accept another. “Need a favor, man.”

  “You’re family. What’s mine is yours.”

  “Need a loaner to get me back to Hell.”

  Jackal runs a couple fingers over his beard. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. Right now, we party,” he bellows.

  I’d like to argue, but he’s opened his doors to me. Would be disrespectful to turn down his hospitality.

  The busty blonde pours me a double.

  Fuck it. Its New Year’s Eve. One more day isn’t going to kill me. Not yet. I’ll see my girl tomorrow. We’ll start fresh. New year, new me and all that other bullshit.

  Two of Jackal’s bitches saunter up to me.

  Neither of them got a damn thing on Freya but they are a helluva lot better than that gas station bitch. One blonde and one brunette.

  “Sugar and Spice will show you a good time,” Jackal tells me, wearing a shit eating grin.

  I knock back another shot and Shake passes me a joint.

  Fuck me it’s good to be on the outside.

  Now

  Brush. Rinse. Spit. Repeat.

  I stare at the man in the mirror and hate what I see. If I were Freya, I’d want my sorry ass to sleep on the couch too. Spent last night passed out on the floor of Jackal’s Clubhouse. Drank and smoked too fuckin’ much. Saved me from having to refuse his whores. Saved me from doing something stupid that’d fuck up my getting back with Freya.

  Once Shake woke his ass up he drove me back to Hell. Dropped me at Freya’s to wait for her to show up.

  Can’t fuckin’ believe it. I’m home. Here with my girl. Freya acts all tough, though deep down I know she missed me. She’ll see. She’s always been mine and always will be. I’m thanking my lucky stars someone didn’t slide into my place. I’m no idiot. A woman like Freya…any fuckin’ man had a chance to get in with her, he’d do it. No hesitation.

  She’s smart. Sexy. A bad ass biker babe in her own right.

  I listen and hear absolutely nothing. Going to take some getting used to. Not sharing tight quarters with another hairy ass. I forgot what it was like to have some privacy. Having doors I can open and close as I please. Not having to worry if someone will stab my ass when I’m not paying attention. Getting to wear my own clothes.

  No more orange jumpsuits and shoes without laces.

  Fuck. It’s good to be home. I exit the bathroom and look in one more time at Freya. She’s laid back on the bed. A vision. Pure heaven after I’ve spent three years burning in purgatory.

  “Bathroom is all yours.”

  She goes up on her elbows. “Welcome home, Fisher.”

  This isn’t exactly the reunion I anticipated but I’ll take it. I’ll accept whatever she gives me. “Yeah. Home sweet home.” I grin at her and swallow my pride. “I’m gonna turn in. You got an extra blanket?”

  “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  My heart swells in my chest. “You sure? I don’t want to assume…”

  “It’s your first night out. It should be in a warm bed.”

  I don’t correct her. I don’t tell her I spent my first night passed out on a filthy floor. No. I get undressed and slip under the covers, breathing in the clean smell of the detergent Freya uses. She does her business getting ready for bed.

  I close my eyes and all I hear is the flushing of the toilet followed by the faucet running. No assholes being loud. Banging on the bars. No fighting. Nothing but the gentle noises of Freya coming to bed.

  She flicks off the light and puts a knee to the foot of the bed. There’s a slight hesitation before she crawls up the center and claims her spot next to me.

  I swallow hard. Her fruity scent fans all around me and all I want to do is roll over and have my way with her. Remind her how good we are together. How perfectly we fit.

  Chapter Three

  In the dark of the night my pulse races through my veins. Heart beating a million beats a minute. Fisher lays next to me. There’s barely five inches separating us. Him in his charcoal grey boxer briefs. Me in my sky-blue snowflake print pajama pants and a thin white tank. I’m torn between pulling him closer and pushing him further away.

  He’s not the man I wish were laying at my side. Guilt coats me, clinging to me like a second skin. I’m using Fisher because I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to face the truth. That I have no place in Death’s life despite the promises he made. We might as well be worlds apart.

  Fisher is here saying all the right things. All the things I’ve desperately longed to hear. He chooses me. Wants to put me first. I’ve never been first pick. Not before now. I roll to my side, facing him as he lays on his back, staring at the ceiling.

  “You good?”

  “Not used to the silence.”

  “What was it like…I mean for you.”

  “Loud. Scary as fuck. Never knowing when my protection would run out. Never knowing when politics and power would exchange hands. Seen and heard a lot of fucked up shit. Things you can’t even imagine. People murdered in pure cold blood over the dumbest shit. Hearing grown ass men cry out while being raped. Place was fucking horrible. Only thing that kept me sane was the thought of you. One day being right here. Lying next to you. Breathing your same air.”

  “Fisher,” I croak. “I’m sorry I didn’t read your letters. I kept them. I just…I had to pretend you didn’t exist.” I hate knowing he’s suffered. My thoughts are all jumbled.

  “Coped the best you could, babe. Can’t begrudge you that.” He laces his fingers through mine, bringing my knuckles to his lips.

  Why is he being so sweet? I can’t take it. Maybe it’s the guilt eating at me because I know that my sleeping with Death is a betrayal. Club brothers aren’t supposed to fuck another brother’s ol’ lady. Fisher and I weren’t married but we were close enough to getting there.

  We lived as though we were husband and wife. Only there were no rings or a piece of paper stating as much.

  I roll deeper into his side, pressing my skin to his, wondering if this is where I’m meant to be. If everything happens for a reason—is this fate? I kiss his shoulder and his gaze cuts to mine. The tension between us crackles.

  “Did anyone…did they hurt you?” I word my question as delicately as I can.

  “No one fucked me physically if that’s what you want to know.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Can ask me anything you want. Only action I’ve had is my hand.”

  “So, if you didn’t fuck April, I was the last.”

  “Babe. I’m about three seconds from nutting simply from you pressing up on me. Moment I kissed you my fucking dick started leaking. He’s practically crying to be inside you.”

  I don’t know why knowing this information turns me on, but it does. I slide a hand over his abs, scratching my nails over his skin. A hiss passes through his lips as my fingers trail lower.

  “Fuck, Freya. Shit,” he growls and rolls over, pinning me to the mattress.

  He stares down at me with raw hunger in his eyes. Primal need takes over. His tongue rams down my throat as he tears at my clothes. I don’t stop him though deep down I know I should. I give into Fisher. I give him another piece of me. A piece of me I didn’t know survived losing him.

  It’s been three years, but our bodies aren’t strangers.

  Neither are our hearts.

  Fisher jerks my pants down my thighs, leaving them wrapped around my ankles.

  “Fuck, I need inside you.” He groans.

  “Fuck me, Fisher,” I plead, praying he forces me to forget all about Death.

  He jerks my top up and latches his mouth to one of my nipples, sucking the pebbled skin till it hardens. His hands roam my body, rediscovering all the places that have longed for this. My body hasn’t forgotten Fisher despite how hard I’ve tried to.

  I kick my pajama pants off impatiently.

  His cock presses against the crotch of my panties and I whimper, desperate for him to make good on his promise and fuck me.

  Warmth hits my belly. “Did you already come?”

  With his head hung low, he breathes out, “yeah.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’m tired and you said it’s been three years so…” I play it off, not wanting him to get hung up on getting off so quick.

  He shoves up and retreats to the bathroom.

  “Okay then,” I whisper to myself and use my tank top to wipe my belly off.

  I leave the bed to get a new shirt.

  I hear Fisher go outside. I understand that he’s embarrassed but he has no reason to be. Premature ejaculation happens to the best of men. According to him there’s not been anyone since the last time he was with me and that was only a blowjob. I follow him outside into the cold night and find him leaning over the rail with a cigarette in hand, staring out at the parking lot.

  “Hey.”

  “Go back inside. I’ll be in once I finish smoking.”

  “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”

  “Fuck no I don’t want to talk about the fact that you hardly touched me, and I got off like a fuckin’ chump. Or the fact that I have no right to ask or be angry but who have you been fuckin’?”

  “There was one guy. One time.” I don’t tell him about Death. I’m not ready to go there. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

  “That it?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Right,” he clips, pulling a hard drag off his Winston.

  “I don’t want to fight with you, but maybe it would be best if you stay at the clubhouse.” I don’t want to hurt Fisher anymore than he’s already hurt himself. As angry as I’ve been with him, the guy lost three years of his life. And not that I’m any prize but he lost me too during that time.

  “That what you want?”

  “I don’t know what I want. I’m emotional and a bit all over the place. April was murdered this morning and I come home to find you here. Then Yara shows up to tell me that Death was in a car wreck and his little boy might die.”

  “April was murdered today? I know you said that she died but damn.”

  “Yeah. Someone slit her throat.”

  “God damn. What happened with Death?”

  “I don’t know. Yara said she would text me with an update. Everyone is at the hospital.”

  “Fuck. I should be there,” he mutters and flicks the butt of his cigarette over the railing. Club duty always comes first. I know that all too well.

  “I can drive you,” I offer, knowing the last thing I want is for Death to see me with Fisher, but what am I to do? If I act weird about going, Fisher will question why. None of us are prepared to have that conversation.

  “You up for that?”

  “Sure. Just give me about five minutes to change.”

  He nods and follows me inside. The two of us dress in silence. The mood between us somber. The excitement gone. The attraction stagnant. A storm cloud brews over our heads. We can’t go back to the way things were. We’re different people. I’m not that same girl he left to pick up the pieces, and he’s not the man I fell in love with. A lot can change in three years, and yet as I take him in, I know a lot can also stay the same.

  Though his life may have paused for three years, mine didn’t. I can’t keep promising myself that I’m moving forward if I’m still holding onto bits of the past. I got caught up in hearing what I wanted to. Fisher has always been charming. That much is still true.

  I thought I moved on. I found another man. One I wish I could run to. Though I don’t know if I should. Death is a complicated man. He’s married. He’s a father and the Vice President of the Birds of Hell. His roles come with a lot of responsibility that don’t leave much room for me.

 

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