Chapter Twelve #2
His voice lowered. “If this call wasn’t monitored, I’d tell you exactly how I’d like to touch you.”
“You don’t have to say it. I dream about it every night. Just the three of us.”
“I do, too.” He sighed. “I want you here. I miss you. And I miss that asshole’s charm, but I’m looking at five years, McKelle.” I heard the catch in his voice and the ragged cadence of his breath. “You can’t build a relationship on weekly visits and fifteen-minute phone calls.”
That was fear talking. I was scared, too.
“I trust Tank, and he says Willy is the best. He’d have to be to keep Hellers out of jail.
” I bit my tongue. “Because everyone knows cops are always looking for an easy mark. Like guys who did nothing wrong.” Stupid girl.
Everything I said on the recorded call could make the situation worse for Ryatt.
“I’ve already been convicted. I’m here until I see the judge and that could take weeks.”
I closed my eyes, listened to his voice, and imagined he was here with me. “One day at a time.”
“Time is all I’ve got right now.”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I couldn’t tell him everything would be okay because we both understood this separation could last a long time.
“I wanted to tell you what to expect when you come today. You’ll probably want to get to the jail early, like thirty minutes.
You’ll go through security. Bring your ID but nothing else.
You can bring your phone, but you won’t be allowed to use it.
No taking pictures. But you can show me pictures on it as long as they aren’t explicit.
Save those for when I get out. And no cut for Cruz. ”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
And then the phone disconnected.
Ryatt
In jail, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days, days felt like months, and sitting with no expiration date felt like a fucking eternity. I alternated between watching the clock and staring at the doorway.
One guard stood near the door, and two others banked the left and right side of the open room. There were two narrow tables with four chairs. I sat at the table near the barred window, farthest away from the guard at the door.
McKelle and Cruz had seen me on video call. White V-neck shirt and loose white polyester-cotton blend pants. I looked like an inmate. I looked like every other guy in here.
A woman and a kid about ten entered the room. I didn’t know the inmate, but he stood, gave the woman a hug and a quick kiss while the little kid clung to his legs. Yeah, that sucked to have to visit your old man in jail.
I swore, this was the last fucking time. Maybe I couldn’t promise myself that. I could end up back here if I patched into the MC. But at least then there would be a good reason to be separated from my family.
My gaze focused on the doorway. And my family was here. McKelle entered first. Cruz was right behind her. Oh fuck. My chest tightened and tears filled my eyes. Now, I was going to pussy out in front of my girl.
She was beautiful. Her blueish-green eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and her lips trembled as she smiled. I stood, and they crossed the room.
Before she could whisper a word, I kissed her, slanting my mouth over hers, tasting her, meshing my lips with hers as our tongues found one another.
When the kiss ended—I could have continued kissing her forever—she kept her arms curled around my neck, and I crushed her against my chest, breathing in the scent of her perfume.
While she clung to me, I smiled at Cruz. “No Heller colors, but I didn’t expect you to dress like you’re going to my funeral.”
He wore black Dockers and a tight black henley. The soft fabric molded to his torso. “Do I make a good impression?” He swiped a hand down his chest.
“Yeah, you do.”
McKelle took a half step back. I expected a bro hug, but Cruz wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I could feel the tremble of his body, and the pounding of his heart. It matched my own.
We separated quickly. As we sat across from each other at the table, I wiped moisture from my eyes. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
I reached across the table, and McKelle linked her fingers with mine. “Did you have any trouble getting through security?”
She shook her head. “You look good. Your bruises are almost gone.”
“My ribs are feeling better, too.”
There was an awkwardness to the conversation. Over the phone, we bitched about court dates and being apart. On video chat, we told jokes. Cruz usually being a dick with his.
What’s the difference between you and an egg? An egg gets laid.
I wanted a funny joke. I didn’t want the oppressive fucking energy that this might be all we ever had. I hadn’t made friends in jail. There were three other guys in my cell, and all I knew of them were their first names and bathroom habits since we shared a toilet and sink.
It sucked, but I’d been in worse bathrooms.
“We only have a half hour,” Cruz said. “Willy hasn’t said anything to us. Have you heard about your court date?”
My pulse spiked. I had, but nothing I was going to share with them. Not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I couldn’t have either of them at my hearing. I knew they wanted to be there.
And I didn’t want the last thing I saw before getting locked up to be the disappointment in their eyes. I didn’t want either of them to see me as a failure. “It’s a waiting game.” Waiting for a judge to decide my fate.
I sat up straighter, and my knee bumped against Cruz’s under the table. Rather than move away, I felt the pressure like something warm and addictive slipping through my veins.
Cruz shifted on his chair, his leg intentionally connecting with mine. He stared across the table at me. “McKelle isn’t the only one who wants to be touching some part of you.”
“Same,” I whispered. I stared at my hand joined with McKelle’s.
“To answer your question, Willy told me to sit tight.” Omission wasn’t lying.
“Until I get in front of the judge, I’m sitting in my cell.
I sleep, eat, and listen to one of my cellies talk to the naked woman he has tattooed on his forearm. ”
Cruz chuckled.
“Seriously, dude, I hear him beat off at night telling her how good she is.”
“Nothing wrong with a praise kink.” McKelle smirked. “Just saying.”
“You don’t need to say anything.” Cruz kept his voice low. “Rizz isn’t going to need you tattooed on his forearm. He won’t be fucking his fist for much longer.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. One day I’d get out of here. One day I hoped to be back in her bed—in their bed. One day I’d prove I belonged to the brotherhood, and I’d have Heller ink. One day. But that day could be years from now.
“We need to talk about what happens if I don’t get out. I’m only staying in county until I see the judge. If he revokes my probation, I’ll be transferred to the state penitentiary.”
Three hours from here. Visitation would be a challenge.
Six months from now, they’ll have moved on.
That was why I’d have to let them go. They’d be together, living their lives, and I’d still be marking spots on the calendar, counting down the years, becoming institutionalized.
I’d been down this path. Back then it was foster care, and I was counting down the days to my eighteenth birthday.
Most of the time being in the system felt like a detention center with locks on the food cabinets, needing permission to use the bathroom, and bracing for the next beat down. Because there was always a next one.
Now, I’d count down the days to freedom.
“That’s not going to happen.” Cruz leaned forward.
“Want to know how I know?” His knee pressed against mine.
“Because, for you and me, our shit days are behind us. I’m not comparing us.
I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.
There’s no prize when it comes to who had the shittiest parents. You want another story time?”
McKelle’s fingers tightened on mine. She dropped her other hand under the table. I had no doubt her palm rested on Cruz’s thigh. I remember her telling me that Cruz had a warped view of family and relationships.
“I’ve got a mom who tossed me out like trash, and somewhere out there is a hookup who doesn’t know I exist.” He rubbed a deep scratch on the table with his thumb. His gaze shifted between me and McKelle. She smiled, and he continued.
“My stepdad is a cop. A total prick. He took advantage of every opportunity to make my life hell. All I had was my mom. I was just a kid, but I hated his guts. He turned her against me, claimed I’d be a bad influence on my little brother and sister, and scared her into fearing me. My own fucking mother.”
His throat rippled with a hard swallow. “You lived in houses with locked cupboards, and I lived in a shed in the backyard because she couldn’t legally kick me out of the house, a house I didn’t have a key to, and the doors were always locked.
I had to leave the day I turned eighteen.
Just once, I wanted her to choose me. She never did. ”
Cruz looked me in the eyes. “Who are you choosing, Rizz? I’m always going to choose McKelle. I’m here because I’m choosing you, too. I know you want McKelle, but you can’t have her without me.”
“I know.” Somewhere along the way, I’d acknowledged that I was attracted to Cruz. I felt safe when he was around. Just having his knee connected with mine under the table had heat simmering low in my groin.
If we were anywhere else, my cock wouldn’t just be hard for McKelle. The way his gaze skimmed over my body exposed a fissure of darker needs. “I choose us.”
I chose them, even if it meant I’d have to let them go.