by J. L. Drake
“Okay.” He extended a hand. “Thank you.”
Shortly after we walked through three buildings and several flights of stairs, we got to the warden’s office.
“Anyone else feel like they’re on the set for Shawshank?” Rail muttered, amused at the early 1940s wooden office with old steel filing cabinets.
“Shut up, Rail,” Brick said uneasily. “We could be getting moved or separated.”
The door swung open, and in walked the warden.
“Everyone out,” he ordered the officers.
Once they left, the door I assumed was a restroom opened, and in walked the governor of the state. Brick glanced at me, and I kept my head forward, but I gave it a small shake. I had no clue what was about to happen. I’d seen the governor around before, but never actually inside the prison walls. Something told me this was a first for him too.
His gaze locked onto mine, and his jaw moved back and forth as he ground his teeth.
“I don’t know how the hell you did it, but trust me when I say this, Nolan, if I ever see your face again, I will personally handle you myself.” He took a step forward. “And there’ll be no witness to account for your whereabouts.”
The warden huffed under his breath as the governor stepped back and gave him a wave. The warden didn’t waste any time and handed us three sealed envelopes before he moved around his desk and slammed open his top drawer. With one hand, he flipped open all three of our files and slammed down a huge stamp that read RELEASED.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
That was all the paperwork it took before we were told to get the fuck out.
I’d never seen anything like it.
“Mr. Vineyard,” the warden hissed, and I turned to face him. “You are playing a dangerous game here. Don’t fuck with the devil. He will always win.”
I smirked. “I don’t always win.” His eyes widened at my reference to myself. I was raised by the devil, after all, and some of him was bound to stick.
Rail started to speak, but I shot him a glare. I needed to focus. Something was up. I didn’t trust this. Were we about to be handed off to another warden? Which prison? We hadn’t even heard our fate, the verdict hadn’t been announced yet, and never before had it been that easy to leave. What the fuck had happened?
We kept our mouths shut as we were escorted back through the stairs and hallways, three officers in front and three in the back. The man behind the heavy bars shoved the clothes at me through a slot. “Sign here.” He pointed to the paperwork.
“I feel like we’re missing something,” Brick whispered as we walked out the door and through the caged-in walkway to the parking lot.
“Yeah, like our one phone call for a ride.” Rail searched his pockets for a lighter. We were miles from a phone, and we had, what, eighty bucks between the three of us? “How far can we get on that?”
“What the hell?” Rail nearly slammed into Brick, who had suddenly slowed his pace. “Ryan?”
There was Ryan from our Nashville chapter flipping the keys to a blue pickup.
“Thought you boys might need a ride” He shook Brick’s hand first, then mine. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were gettin’ out, Trigger!” He waved at us to hop in, and I took the front, and the guys took the back bench.
Once we hit the road and the prison was out of sight in my mirror, I let out a long breath. It was the first time I questioned my ability to get out of prison. It was also the first time I came out with someone waiting for me. A heavy weight landed in the pit of my stomach. That was a fucking lie. She wasn’t waiting for me; she was still with my father.
Tess.
I needed to know everything Morgan and Sam knew.
“What do you know?” Rail beat me to the punch.
Ryan checked his mirrors before he switched lanes. “I got a call from Morgan, who told me to meet you here and hand you these.” He pointed under their seats. Brick hauled out a black duffle bag for each of us.
“Fuck, yes!” Rail cheered over my shoulder. “Clean clothes, soap, and smokes. It’s been a long while since I’ve been excited about a shower.” He shuddered.
“What else?” I took over the conversation.
“Just that someone knew someone who you got out.”
“How?” I hated that I didn’t have the answers.
“All I know,” he raised his hand, “is it has something to do with some guy named Mike and a judge.”
Mike?
“No idea, man, sorry. I was told to get to you to the airstrip before sundown.”
“Please tell me it’s not that prop plane we use to transport our shit.”
Ryan fought back a smile as Rail complained about how shitty the seats were and how the plane was designed to carry packages, not people.
“No one needs a rod up the ass. Fucking seats.” He tossed up his hands. “Like I’m not scarred enough.”
I settled into the seat and tuned out Rail. Fuck me, I needed to soak myself in Tess. How I missed her. It drove me crazy that I didn’t know where she was. Even to think about her made my chest burn.
It bothered the hell out of me that Mike was involved in this somehow. He would have cashed in a lot of favors to get me cleared, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. He was the one who had chosen to fight on the good side.
According to my heartrate, I should be to the first checkpoint at 03:45, which would land me at checkpoint two at 4:57. Made sense. I shouldn’t need to stop. My lungs were clear. I was pot-free for the past eleven months, and I had extreme self-discipline. I picked up the pace when I felt good to save seconds when I wasn’t. I understood the structure the Army offered, and I liked how you were a family, a working unit. It was appealing.
Just as I rounded the cliff, I saw Mike heeled over but still keeping a good stride. He was a goddamn ox, and I fucking respected that.
“Does your stomach hurt?”
He shook his head and wavered in his fast step. “Right side.”
Fuck.
I lunged toward him and made him stop.
“Dude, what the—”
I somehow dropped the tight guard I had on myself when I recognized the situation for what it was. The test wasn’t for three more days, and he needed help. This wasn’t something that came easily to me, but there was something about this guy that I could relate to.
“Fuck me, dude.” I glared to make my point. “I know a lot of fucked-up people who do a lot of fucked-up things. If you ever repeat what I’m about to do, your family will never know what happened to you.”
“Fine.” He was beyond caring at this point, anyway, and he just stared at me.
I glared at him not to say a word as I held my arms up above my head and blew out my mouth like a horse. I repeated it two more times, and he couldn’t hold in his damn smirk.
“Do it or I’ll punch you in the throat.” I pulled back my arm, and he held up a hand and mimicked my stupid-ass dance, and he soon was able to breathe more comfortably. Three minutes later, he was back to normal.
He sat and rubbed his chest, looking at me in amazement. “How did you know to do that?”
“Old boxing move.”
“You mentioned that before. When did you start?”
I hated that question, but somehow when he asked, I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.
“My father would say seven, but I say three.”
“Why is that?”
“Hard to answer, but I guess he slugged me around a lot from a young age.” I allowed some water to go down the back of my throat before I went on. “Not every boxer understands what’s happening to them, especially when they start young. Some of the blows take you somewhere else, where time stands still. Even though you’re only there for a few seconds, it’s kind of better than what you face when it’s over and you go home.” Shit where had that come from?
He held up his arms before he rested his elbows on his knees. I glanced at his tattoos. I forgot one night he b
riefly had told me why he got them.
I pushed to my feet and nodded for him to join me. “If you do that at the start and at checkpoints seven, fourteen, and eighteen, you’ll be fine.”
“Just that many?” He dripped with sarcasm but fist bumped my shoulder in thanks.
By Friday, Mike came second in track and passed over all. I, however, was asked to go to the office and was told there were only a few spots open, and I hadn’t made it in. I knew they had probably reviewed my rap sheet. I’d wondered if they would overlook it. They probably figured I’d never make it through the training.
It was what it was. The fact that I wasn’t overly disappointed said a lot.
Mike was blown away and said I should take his spot. He was relentless. By the second day, I was just honest.
“Fuck off and go join the Army, because I’ll probably need some help one day, and I’ll be cashing in that fucking favor.”
“Fair enough.” He offered me his hand.
We all knew he was a better soldier than I’d ever be. I didn’t do well with authority.
***
“Sweet hell in my ass!” Rail white-knuckled the seat in front of him, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “The reaper is pissed, Trigger!” He laughed like a nut job when the plane shook and jolted as we took on some turbulence. “You think he’s tryin’ to make a point?”
“And what would that be?” I glanced out the window. We should be landing within the next fifteen minutes.
“I think we need a good kill to settle the fucker down.”
I had a few in mind…
Mike’s tone was different, something was off.
“Didn’t mean to dodge your calls, just been dealing with something.”
“Didn’t take it personally,” I assured him and leaned forward to let the ash from my joint fall on my boot. “You good?”
He laughed, but it was heavy. “Sometimes I wonder.” I heard a door close quietly. “My sister’s ex is becoming a problem, and our good old justice system won’t do shit about it.”
“Has he met you yet?” I joked. Mike’s physique alone would scare off an unwanted boyfriend.
“Yeah, he has, but his father has a ton of money, and he thinks he’s above the law.”
I cracked my neck. “You talkin’ about that shit Trevor Collins?” I remembered hearing about his father and how he owned some casino and hotel in New York.
“Yeah. As soon as she met his family, she backed off. They weren’t her kind of people. Besides, he…ah, well, she’s saying he scares her. I don’t know the details, and I don’t want to, but fuck, Trigger, I’m questioning if I can hold myself back.”
“I get that.”
“I need to keep my head clear. I have a chance to join an elite team, and if I fuck up, I’m done, back at my father’s business choppin’ wood.”
“Mike?” his mother called from somewhere far away.
“Shit. Sorry, man, I gotta go.”
“Yeah, no worries. We’ll talk again soon.” I hung up.
It took me three days to track that fucker down, beat the shit out of him, and send a message. Mike never questioned me, but I did get a text message with his sister smiling a few weeks later. That was the first and only time I crossed that line.
“Wait,” Brick’s tone cut through Rail’s meltdown, “I think we have company.”
I leaned closer to the window and saw a trail of dust in the distance. I watched as it grew closer, and I nearly saw red when I realized someone was driving my bike. That broke every club rule known to the MC world. If they had wanted to bring my goddamn bike, they would have put it on a trailer.
I cracked my neck, but it didn’t help. I could feel my switch quiver with fury as the wheels lowered, ready for the touchdown.
“Shit,” Brick felt around his back, “I really miss my nine mil.”
Once we hit the ground, Rail did a sign of the cross over his chest before he kissed the reaper that hung from one of his rope bracelets.
“What the hell was that?” Brick laughed.
“Might as well play nice with both.”
I grabbed my bag of shit and ducked to step out onto the stairs. Morgan removed his helmet and started to walk toward me.
“Nice to have you back.” Morgan held out his hand as he ignored the fact that I was glaring over his shoulder toward my bike.
“Any word from Tess?” I managed to choke out.
“Yeah.”
I looked at him and wanted to kick him in the throat for not spitting it out. Morgan turned and nodded at the fucker on my bike. It took me a moment, but when the rider stood, leaned forward, and removed the helmet, blonde hair spilled in every direction.
Fuck…Tess.
She bit her lip as she tossed her helmet and raced toward me in her leather pants and jacket. I found myself moving toward her, and she leapt into my arms and wrapped her legs around my waist as she buried her face into my neck.
I slammed her to me and held on tight.
“Shit, Trigger!” she cried.
Everything went silent.
Everything went calm.
I stroked her head once before I lowered her to her feet and held onto her shoulders to look her over.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled up at me, and I wanted to take her right there in the middle of the fucking chaos.
“You?”
“Better,” slipped from my mouth.
She leaned up for a kiss, and I devoured her mouth. I was incredibly pent-up, and having her tongue inside my mouth was dangerous. I peeled her away in spite of her confused face.
“What?”
I leaned my forehead to hers then rested my lips by her ear.
“I’ve been in a cage with men for almost a month.” I slapped my hand on her ass and gave it a hard squeeze. “My mind has been in some dark places, and I need to control myself around you.”
She turned to me and licked my jaw bone. “When have I ever liked control?”
“Tess,” I warned, but even I could hear the moan in my tone.
“Just promise me you’ll flip later,” she whispered as she ran her tongue over her lip.
“Get on the bike, Tess.”
She stepped back with a sigh but turned and swaggered back to my bike.
“We need to talk before we hit the clubhouse.” Morgan walked with me. “Strokes?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. As much as I wanted to be alone with Tess, he was right. We couldn’t be around the mole until we were prepared.
Just as I was about to pull my helmet on, Tess ran her hand along my thigh, using her nails to outline my insane erection.
I pulled her hand to my mouth and bit down on a finger and sucked it into my mouth, swirling my tongue along the edges.
Enough.
I started to lose my control.
I’d never felt more split down the middle in my head. My brain couldn’t seem to settle.
With a flick of my wrist, I started the bike and waited for her to hang on. Her hands wrapped my waist, and I felt a sense of normalcy wash over me.
We took our formation and headed down Lincoln Boulevard. Tess stroked my leg and rested her head on my back.
Everything came alive inside me. My erection was beyond painful, and I didn’t know how much more I could take. Weeks of men was hell, and I needed my woman.
***
Tess
I could barely control my hands. I felt like I was on E again. Everything about this man spoke to me, and it didn’t help that he was at least a size bigger in the arms. My dark navy-blue nails matched his ink beautifully. It was almost mesmerizing watching my fingers skim his art. I wanted him so much.
Guilt swept through me then, and pain quickly spread through my body.
Gus.
I fought the tears that chased my desire to be happy. How could I be happy when Gus might now be in that cornfield himself?
Stop.
Just stop.
“Where
did you learn to ride?” Trigger broke through my thoughts.
“Morgan gave me some pointers…from the sidewalk,” I assured him and waited a beat. “You mad?”
“No.” He stroked my leg while I grinned like a fool.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into Strokes, the words “Enter with a soul, Leave with a task” etched into the glass. I’d normally question the meaning, but honestly, I couldn’t care less. I was just relieved Trigger was Trigger and not someone else.
“Oh, good, you made it back okay!” Minnie cheered and hugged me from behind. “I wasn’t sure how you would do with that beast of a bike between your legs.”
“Hey.” I reached behind me and hugged her the best I could. “Not my first time with a beast between my legs,” I joked.
“Seriously?” Brick scowled at Minnie before he grabbed a handful of her hair and made out with her with like he was seventeen.
Yeah, that’s what I needed to see.
“Um, hello?” Rail hissed but granted me a big bear hug when I took pity on him. “You really okay, Tess?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
He lit a cigarette and sucked back a long breath as I glared at him, then he lifted his hands. “You’d be proud.” The cig bounced around his lips, sending ash everywhere. “I lifted weights.” He held up his arm and flexed. “Yup, those fifteens really make the blood burn.”
“I can see that.”
He winked as he stood from his seat at the table. I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. I didn’t get the stall door closed before a huge hand stopped it.
“Jesus, Trigger.” My stomach flip-flopped. “Feel free to remember what I’ve been through.”
He pushed me further into the stall and cupped my head so I’d look at him.
“I’m horny as hell too, Trigger, but I’ve waited a long-ass time, and I know I’m not classy, but a public bathroom is—”
“Shut up, Tess,” he grunted as he studied my face then closed his eyes. He was obviously struggling with something.
“What?” I stroked his forearms; I needed his touch.
“I want to know everything.” He cleared his throat, and something fucking scary flashed across both pupils. “Did he hurt you?”