Prologue #2
She wasn’t sure why she was repeating that statement.
Maybe she hoped if he’d heard it enough times, he’d remember.
But if not, it was okay. People made lots of promises, but not many followed through.
Even if he never showed up, there was a small semblance of hope that he might.
Most days, it was hope that kept her going. And he gave me that.
“Hang on. Need a favor.”
Really? From me?
She straightened, and without hesitation whispered, “Anything.”
There was a small stretch of silence, and she pressed her phone against her ear. Had he hung up?
“Start writing to Wraith again.”
Nothing could have surprised her more than this request. Wraith.
Cleo had never met him, but since her reconnection with Knox, she’d heard a lot about him.
Like her brother, Wraith was a member of the Killcreek Drifters MC and currently doing time in prison.
Knox never mentioned what either of them were in for, and Cleo never asked.
It felt intrusive, possibly offensive. She didn’t want to risk angering him in fear the calls would stop.
For the last two years, they had been what kept her going.
When Knox had initially gotten incarcerated, their communication was limited to letters.
Cleo had tried to make arrangements to visit, but without a car the commute was impossible.
She figured the next best thing was to become his official pen pal.
She’d started out small, sending him a short letter once a week.
By week three, he’d responded. His scribblings were nothing more than chicken scratch and difficult to read, but Cleo spent hours dissecting the words until she fully understood what he was writing.
They were the highlights of her days, most of the time her weeks, and more often than not her months.
Cleo didn’t have much to look forward to, but she had this.
Letters from Knox. She sent more than she received, especially when it came to Wraith.
She’d never heard back after a year and a half of faithfully writing to him twice a month.
It had started out by mere chance. Knox had joked about Wraith taunting him every time he received a letter.
At first, she’d written him so Knox could enact revenge and tease Wraith.
She hadn’t planned on continuing, but for some reason she had.
Over eighteen months, every other week. She’d penned a letter to her brother Knox and one to Wraith.
After a while, it felt as though she was a hindrance.
His friend’s little sister writing letters probably annoyed him.
Especially since there wasn’t anything overly interesting about her.
So, I stopped. It had been two months since her last letter to Wraith. She kind of missed it. It was therapeutic to write to her brother, but she’d grown accustomed to writing to his friend too.
“Will you do it?”
She straightened her legs, pressing her back against the headboard and furrowing her brows.
“But he doesn’t write back. I think I might be bothering him or something.”
“Write to him, Cleo.” His tone was stern, as if he was giving an order.
She nibbled on her bottom lip then licked her cut. “Are you sure he’s okay with it?”
She could hear Knox’s heavy sigh and almost see his little smile with his response. “Yeah, he’s okay with it.”
Cleo ducked her head, smiling. She wasn’t much of a writer.
Heck, she’d barely graduated, but she liked the idea of old school pen and paper.
Knox had written back every month. It was short, not giving much away, but it was something.
And she’d looked forward to those letters.
Wraith gave her nothing, not one response.
“Do you think he’ll write back this time?”
It was all she wanted. Possibly needed. In a world of isolation, all Cleo yearned for was an outside connection. Just someone. Anyone. Cleo had never met or seen Wraith. All she knew was that he was one of Knox’s brothers in the MC. It was a good enough resume for her.
“Probably not.”
Her heart sank, and she slouched deeper in her bed.
“Will you do it anyway, Cleo?”
Of course she would. She parted her lips but gasped, gazing up at the door. The footsteps had stopped stomping around the living room, but the voices were getting louder. It was only a matter of time until they got closer to her room.
“I’ll write to Wraith, but I have to go now.”
Her door banged and bowed inward, threatening to fly open, and she cowered, fighting against her fear. Her heart beat so fast with sheer panic setting in, and her breath caught in her throat. There was no preparation. Not for this.
“Cleo!” Knox snapped, and she could hear the tension in his tone. “You okay?”
She winced at every pound against the door. Knowing what was to come was the hardest. Sometimes, the anticipation outweighed the physical blows.
She squeezed her phone in her hand and whispered, “I’m fine, Knox. But I have to go.” Cleo didn’t wait for a response. She tapped the screen ending the call, tucked it under her pillow, and braced for impact.
Just make it quick, please.
****
Wraith rolled his shoulders as the piercing alarm echoed through his eardrums. His arms were folded over his chest, his back rested against the wall, and all his attention focused on the metal door.
Solitary confinement was not for the weak.
He’d only done seven days, but it was enough to make some men stark raving mad. For him, it was just another day.
Thankfully, this small infraction wouldn’t affect him getting out in less than a year.
For some inmates, it was a setback. Not him.
It was all about politics in prison. He had to play the game, and Wraith never lost. He pushed off the wall when the steel door opened.
He didn’t even wait for the command to exit.
He passed the guard and took the lead, heading down the hallway.
“Hopefully, this is your last visit to solitary.”
Shut the fuck up, asshole!
Wraith glanced over his shoulder, silently glaring at the prison guard who stood half a foot shorter than him.
In the outside world, he’d be running from Wraith.
But they weren’t on the outside, and until he was free, Wraith had to fall in line.
To an extent. The MC had guards on their payroll.
Most would look away from an infraction and not report it.
However, this guy was new, and didn’t know the rules or who ran the prison.
You’re gonna find out soon, motherfucker.
The guard arched his brow, shrugging. “I find that time alone is good to clear your head.”
This guard’s days were numbered. There was already a bet on his block on how long he’d last and how he’d exit. Wraith didn’t usually get into juvenile bullshit, but he would this time. Extra cash would go a long way once he was released. And you, motherfucker, aren’t gonna last the month.
He stopped at the end of the hall, waiting for the doors to open. When they did, he turned to the left and down the long corridor of cells. Even a week away and nothing had changed. Not the sights, the smells, or the people. Everything stayed the same.
He ground his teeth, lifting his chin and showing no emotion as he walked the line down to his cell.
Anything would have been viewed as weakness.
He made eye contact with a few guys. Acknowledgement.
Of him, not them. They were all trying to stay on his good side.
It was a smart move on their part. Wraith was the last man to make an enemy of.
The loud siren squealed, and his cell door opened.
Knox looked up from his bed but made no move to welcome him back.
That wasn’t how they’d done it in jail. They kept it all locked down.
Even on the outside, there wasn’t any softness.
No hugs or welcoming words. A simple firm handshake said it all.
But they were brothers, and taunting was to be expected.
“Not gonna lie. It was fucking nice having this suite all to myself.”
The corner of his mouth curled, and Wraith snorted. “Shut the fuck up.”
A small cackle sounded, but Knox made no move to get down from the top bunk. It was perfect. Wraith didn’t need any fanfare. He’d get it in the courtyard from the others, along with fear and intimidation. Standing at six foot six had its advantages.
The only saving grace to his prison term was bunking with his brother. It was usually prohibited due to their affiliation, but their president, Ace, had made some calls and cashed in a few favors.
“Where’s Cross?”
Their VP had gotten locked up around the same time but sent to another prison. He’d recently been transferred here to ride out his sentence until release. Aside from yard time, they hadn’t seen much of him. For Wraith, he’d only seen him and another brother twice before getting sent to the hole.
“Two cells down with Cypher.”
Wraith breathed easy knowing their VP was rooming with another club member.
It was a solid alliance with a strong backup from other allies.
This stint would be an easy one. Not too long.
They were all two years in, with only one more left.
It wasn’t his first stay at the prison, but it was his longest. Wraith rolled his shoulders, yawning and stretching his arms over his head.
This freedom was small but more than he’d had in the last seven days.
“Mail is on the desk,” Knox said, not bothering to look up from his book.
Mail. It was rare and only came once a week. In solitary, he’d gotten nothing. He stared across the small cell at the metal table. There were a few envelopes stacked up and one standing alone.
It had been over two months since he’d received anything. Before that, it was a twice monthly ritual. Two letters every month. Nothing more, and coming from a complete stranger. If not for her, Wraith wouldn’t have gotten anything. With no family, the club was all he had.