The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen

by Debra Kayn

  He squeezed the throttle, fighting the urge to flee. Deep down inside of him, he knew there was no chance of escaping. Not his feelings for Marla Marie, and not from the crimes he'd committed.

  Part Four

  Promise.

  Chapter 16

  DUTCH SAT STIFFLY IN the plastic chair, feeling the legs threatened to bend under his weight. The position made his ribs ache. He was sure a couple of the bones were broken from the fight he'd gotten in two weeks ago when the fucking guards switched his cellmate, and hierarchy needed proven once again.

  Currently, he was roomed by himself because he'd started too many fights. A label he was glad to wear.

  He glanced at the door. Skull had promised to bring Marla Marie to the prison. He'd kept her away from his court appearances, afraid it would be too much for her to handle. Instead, he used his weekly call limit to talk with her.

  But she was making everyone's life hell back in Bellevue, wanting to see him face to face.

  Knowing Rachel and Skull had explained to her about his arrest, the outcome in court, and his sentence, he needed to see her with his own eyes and make sure she was okay.

  The guard walked to the middle of the room, standing by Dutch. "You'll have one hour to visit with your loved ones. You will be allowed one hug and kiss when they arrive, then you're to sit your ass down. If you get up, you'll be escorted out of the room. If you continue to show PDA, you'll be escorted to your cell, and future visits could be canceled. If any fights break out, your privileges will be taken away, and you'll have to go in front of the board to have them reinstated. Remember, this is a family visitation. There will be children in the room."

  For how much he wanted to see Marla Marie, she shouldn't be here. She shouldn't see him in a place like this.

  The door opened, and people paraded in. He kept his focus on the door and ignored the prisoners greeting their family members.

  Marla Marie stepped inside and quickly pressed her back against the closest wall, afraid to go near the prisoners. His thighs hardened, wanting to go and protect her, take her out.

  He waited until she spotted him and motioned her over. She pushed off the wall as if she would take off running but slowed herself, taking a wide berth around the others.

  When she reached him, he stood from the chair. She latched herself to his waist, and he cupped the back of her head to his chest. His throat tightened. All the pain from his beaten body ignored, he took her hug because it was the best damn thing he'd felt in several months.

  He cleared his throat. "Sit down, Marla Marie."

  She sat down. He reached over and dragged her and the chair closer until she was right in front of him.

  "Just look at me, forget about the others in the room, okay?" he said, looking her over.

  "It's scary in here," she whispered.

  "Ah, it's not too bad. It's just different."

  "When can you leave?"

  "Rachel and Skull explained everything to you." He leaned forward, holding her hands. "You know that I need to stay for five years."

  Tears ran down her face. He wanted to wipe them away but refrained from doing so because he needed to follow the rules. Marla Marie wasn't the only person who came to visit him. Those in WAKOM Motorcycle Club came by each week.

  "I'll be twenty-one years old by then. You'll be forty-two."

  "That sounds about right." He lowered his voice. "During the time we're apart, you can write letters, and I'll write you back."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise." He dipped his chin. "But I don't want you coming here."

  She shook her head. "I want to."

  "This isn't forever."

  "It seems like it." Her forehead wrinkled. "Can't I tell someone that you're innocent? I can tell them you were with me or that you were at the clubhouse."

  "You know that's not how this works." He squeezed her hands. "I want you to keep going to school, go to your job, and I'll make sure I let Skull and Rachel know how I'm doing. They'll give you the messages."

  "But I want to see you."

  "You're a kid, Marla Marie. Enjoy your years, and when I get out, you'll be all grown up. Then, if you want to spend all your time with me, I'll let you."

  "I hate this." She raised her shoulder and wiped her cheek on the sleeve of her shirt. "It's going to take forever."

  "Yeah, it'll feel like that for a while." He let his head fall before meeting her gaze again. "Now, tell me about work."

  "It's the same thing all the time. Nothing has happened," she muttered.

  "No new rabbits?"

  "It's winter."

  "Any snow on the ground?"

  "Not now, but last week we had a snow day, but it all melted by noon." She inched forward on her chair. "Alyssa is learning to drive in the snow. Her dad took her up in the mountains."

  "Yeah?" He latched on to the change of subject. "How'd she do?"

  "Okay, I guess. She said it was scary but fun."

  "Ask Skull to teach you to drive next winter if it snows." He raised his brows. "Did you take your driving test yet?"

  She shook her head. "I...just couldn't. But I will. Soon."

  Rachel had told him that Marla Marie kept to herself after he was arrested. She'd wallowed in melancholy, distancing herself from her friends and basically going to school and work, then coming home to her room.

  "Once I'm able to drive, I can come here more often. I've been saving my money from work so I can buy a used car." She glanced around the room. "Do they really lock you in a cell, or can you walk around?"

  "During the day, I can walk around with the others on my block. At night, they lock the door to my cell."

  She nodded, chewing on the corner of her lip. "Is the food good?"

  "I won't starve."

  "I hate this."

  "I know you do." He stroked her hands with his thumbs, catching another prisoner eyeing Marla Marie.

  The man sat with an older guy, probably his dad. Movement under the table grabbed his attention. The inmate rubbed his crotch, practically salivating while looking at Marla Marie.

  Dutch let go of her hands, reached down, and grabbed the leg of her chair, turning her sideways to block the guy's view of her.

  "What are you doing?" She grabbed onto the table, skidding the chair legs back to face him.

  He stopped her from moving. "Listen, Marla Marie."

  She frowned and whispered, "What?"

  "This is no place for a girl like you." He took in the inmate's details, remembering him. "I'm going to stop doing visitations."

  "No. Please." She grabbed his hand. "I have to see you."

  "I can call you once a week."

  "It's not the same." Her face reddened. "How will I know if you're okay? What if you need something?"

  "I'll tell you over the phone, and Skull or someone from the club will check in on me. I'll make sure they let you know what I look like and how I'm doing. Anything you want to know, you can ask them."

  Her hands trembled. "No. I have to see you."

  Needing to distract her from what was happening behind her, he leaned closer. "Why?"

  "Because...because then I know you haven't left me."

  Unable to deny her something she needed, knowing the vulnerabilities of her upbringing and her fear that her circumstances could change at any second, she held on to the promise that he would never leave her.

  He shushed her as tears filled her eyes. "We'll work something out, yeah?"

  She nodded fervently. "Anything. Please, don't keep me from coming to see you."

  Avoiding the problem, he concentrated on getting her out of prison without doing more damage to her.

  By the time the hour of visitation ended, he was ready to kill the guy who whacked off while fantasizing about Marla Marie. He was sure the guards were aware of his actions and had let the guy continue masturbating.

  "They're going to make me leave, and I'm not ready to go." She put a death grip on his hands.

  "
Stand up, and you can hug me." He brought her close, wrapping his arms around her.

  She refused to let go. He pried her off him and put his lips on her ear. "Go straight out to Skull. Don't talk or look at anyone else."

  Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she nodded. "Promise to call me."

  "Promise."

  "I'll write to you." She stepped away and stopped. "I'll get my license, and then I can come back."

  He lifted his chin, not taking his gaze off her. Watching her leave made him feel as though someone had stolen his heart.

  Marla Marie walked out of his view. Clenching his teeth, he swung his gaze to the jerkoff who liked to beat off to children.

  The man smirked, having seen Dutch and Marla Marie's goodbye. Not backing down, he waited until the inmate stood by the door, ready to go back to his block.

  He stepped in line behind him.

  As they stood at attention, waiting for the guard to lock the gang-chain around each of their wrists, Dutch whispered, "You're a dead man."

  The first chance he had, he'd kill the motherfucker.

  Chapter 17

  SKULL WALKED INTO THE house. Trudging behind him, Marla veered to the hallway. She thought they'd never leave the clubhouse.

  "Don't forget to bring your dirty clothes to the laundry room. I'll start a load for you," said Rachel behind her, shutting the door.

  "Fine." She stood in her bedroom and looked around at the scattering of clothes everywhere.

  If they would've let her stay home today, she could've done the washing. She hadn't wanted to go hang out at the clubhouse. There was nobody her age there, only the adults.

  Scooping everything up in her arms, she dumped them in the empty basket and carried her laundry to Rachel.

  "Good Lord, Marla. When is the last time you've done your laundry?"

  "I don't know." She dumped everything into the washing machine.

  "Hang on." Rachel moved in front of her, reaching inside and pulling out a sweater. "You need to separate them.

  "It doesn't matter," she mumbled.

  Rachel sighed and took the basket out of her hands. "I'll do it. Go ahead and make sure your homework is done. Tomorrow's a school day."

  "It's done."

  "Then, go copy your work schedule for the week. Make sure you put it on the fridge, so we know where you'll be."

  "Fine." She walked back to her room.

  Digging through her backpack, she found the paper she needed and sat down at the desk to search for a pen.

  The phone rang. She jotted down the days and hours she'd need to go to the feed store. At least she'd have twelve hours of pay on her check this week. It would only take her two more months to have enough money to buy the used car she'd already checked out at Bellevue Auto.

  "Marla," yelled Skull.

  "Yeah?"

  "Phone."

  She put the pen in the drawer. "Who is it?"

  All her friends knew to call her cell phone, but lately, only Alyssa stayed in contact with her.

  "It's Dutch. Hurry up," said Skull.

  She jumped from the chair and grabbed the cordless phone in the hallway. "I've got it. You can hang up."

  Inside her room, she closed the door. "Dutch?"

  "Yeah."

  She sagged in relief, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "What happened? Are you okay? Are you in trouble? You didn't call on Wednesday."

  "Slow down." He paused. "I'm good. I got in a little scrap, and they kept me from the phones."

  Her heart raced. "You're okay."

  "I said I was."

  She wanted to know more. Every time she went to visitation, he seemed to have gotten in a fight. There were always cuts and bruises on his body, even though he ignored all the injuries.

  It wasn't like he was fighting at the clubhouse. He was in prison. Anything could happen.

  "Ready for school tomorrow?" he asked.

  "Yeah." She looked around her room. "I spent the day at the clubhouse."

  "What's going on there?"

  "Nothing." She leaned back and placed her head on the pillow. "Rachel and Skull wanted to go and hang out with everyone. Nobody was there that I wanted to see, so I spent most of the time sitting outside."

  "Is it sunny?"

  Sometimes, his questions seemed silly until she remembered that he wouldn't know what the weather was like or why the WAKOM members gathered at the clubhouse.

  She closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like for him not to see the outside world. "Really hot. Around eighty-five degrees."

  "What were you doing outside?"

  "Getting a tan."

  "What were you wearing?"

  She put her left hand on her stomach. "A tank top—the red one with spaghetti straps. A pair of cutoffs with a pair of Vans. So, I'll probably wake up tomorrow with another line mark on my shoulder, but it gets rid of the tan marks on my arm when I wear T-shirts at the feed store."

  He grunted. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, remembering the way he'd get tan on his arms without even trying. The long hours on the road, wearing a leather vest, the sleeves of his T-shirt would blow up to his shoulders in the wind, showing off his muscles.

  She bet he missed his Harley.

  "Skull brought your motorcycle home. It's in the garage," she said.

  "Is he starting it?"

  "Twice a week."

  "Good."

  She swallowed, hating how every time she walked into the garage, she got excited, thinking he had come to the house to see her.

  Then, she hated how she forgot that he was in prison. Sometimes, it made her feel as if she was going crazy and losing her mind. "I wish—"

  "Hey, listen to me, Marla Marie." He paused. "You can start the bike every day for me and use up the gas in the tank. I don't want it sitting there getting stale."

  She sat up. "I don't know how."

  "I'll tell you."

  She scrambled off the bed, grabbing the pen she'd put away and a piece of paper. Adrenaline filled her as she wrote down the directions exactly as he gave them to her.

  "Okay, I got it. And, if I can't figure it out on my own, I'll ask Skull to show me." She put the pen down.

  "Do me a favor, okay?"

  "I'll do anything for you."

  "I know you would." His voice softened. "Think of me when you're sitting in the seat. Don't forget me."

  "Never, Dutch." She straightened her shoulders. "I'll make sure I do it as soon as I get home from work."

  "Keep the garage door open when it's running."

  She smiled at his worry. "I know."

  "Fuck, I miss you."

  Her stomach ached. She folded her legs and sat on the floor, hunching her shoulders. He hated it when she cried and held the phone's mouthpiece up higher so he couldn't hear the sobs that wanted to burst out.

  Not often would he admit it was hard for him to be away from her or that he missed riding for WAKOM. She understood how difficult it was for him to be locked up, away from everyone.

  "I'll see you this Sunday," she said.

  "Nah...stay home. Finish the school year."

  "But that's six weeks away."

  "I ain't going anywhere, Marla Marie."

  "I know that, but I want to see you."

  "This summer." He cleared his throat, trying to cover the rowdy noise in prison—but she heard it. "Hell, you're almost a senior. You should concentrate on getting that car you've got your eye on."

  "That can wait."

  "No. I want you to work, Marla Marie. Once summer comes, see if you can earn money full time. You'll need insurance and gas money." His voice came louder into her ear. "I need to end the call. Remember, do what I said. Tell Skull, I told you to start my bike every day."

  "Okay. Okay." Her fingers ached as she gripped the phone. "But, you'll call, right?"

  "I promise."

  "You won't stop?"

  "Never."

  Her exhale wheezed out of her chest, and a sob es
caped. She wanted him to stay on the phone. Once he was gone, she wouldn't know how he was doing.

  "I need to go, Marla Marie. Take care of yourself."

  "You, too," she whispered.

  He hung up. The bond they shared stretched thin over the distance they were forced to live. She wasn't sure how to convince him that it was important that she go to the weekly family visits at the prison for both of them.

  That the only reason she tried not to get into trouble was that she wanted to be able to go see him.

  She carried the phone back into the hallway and put it on the charger.

  Rachel stuck her head out of the laundry room. "Do you want everything thrown in the dryer?"

  She nodded and dragged her feet back to her room. Shutting the door, she climbed up on the bed and hugged the pillow. It seemed like a lifetime until Dutch would get released from prison.

  By the time he gained his freedom, she was going to be twenty-one years old. She squeezed her eyes closed at the pain, crippling her.

  As soon as she bought her car, nobody could keep her away from visiting Dutch.

  Chapter 18

  MARLA TURNED AWAY FROM the hands groping the inside of her thighs. "Don't touch me like that."

  "Miss, if you refuse the search, you'll be escorted off the premises." The female correction officer at the door raised her brows. "Should we proceed?"

  Pursing her lips, Marla nodded. The officer permitted the male guard to continue with his inspection.

  Marla looked up at the ceiling, gritting her teeth. She hated the ritual of getting in to see Dutch. After coming to the prison almost every month for the last four years, she never once broke the rules. Everyone at the prison should know she never wore jewelry, carried a weapon, smuggled drugs, or brought outside materials into visitations.

  She'd never risk doing something foolish that would keep her from seeing him. The people working in the prison were just assholes.

  The guard squeezed her ass out of view of the officer. She curled her fingers into a fist at her side, wanting to punch him in the face.

  The guard stood, brushing against her back. "She's clean."