16. Dante
sixteen
Dante
"Will you please be quiet?"
Somewhere across the room, someone calls out to Casper, pleading with him to stop singing.
I'll have to agree with the inmate. He's quite terrible at it. By the third song, I'm ready to clamp my hand on his mouth to get even ten seconds of silence.
He doesn't know how else to cope with his broken heart, relying on awful songs about being lonely to get through every minute being separated from Kylee.
Butcher's pissed off with Riot keeping him company at his table. He'd also have Devil if the kid hadn't already gotten himself thrown in the hole for taking his anger out on the last inmate who gave Casper a hard time.
Trouble's trying his hardest not to do the same thing, but his temper's been tested enough.
Smoke and Ace, hardly shocking, are swindling other inmates over poker, happily winning whatever they can get their hands on.
Maybe Casper's singing isn't too bad in comparison.
"She hasn't visited, man." He groans as he looks my way, his pale eyes filled with pain. "What if she's not into criminals? Can't she write me letters? I'm dying."
"You're an idiot." Rolling my eyes, I bounce my knee faster as my own worries try to claw their way out. Somehow, I've kept them inside rather well.
"Can you say something nice to me just once in your life?" He leans against me, pursing his lips. "Kylee talks sweet to me every single day, and I have been starving."
Grimacing at that, I push him away so he can slump on the other side of the table.
Thinking on my words, I grimace. "You're the one person I know will always have my back, and I appreciate you risking everything back at the clubhouse.
" My thumb taps the table, trying to find something else that will satisfy him.
Has to be something over-the-top, even if it risks making him seem dramatic.
"When I get married, you'll be my best man.
I wouldn't give the role to anyone else. "
He rolls his head to look at me. "Damn, I haven't even proposed yet, and you're already planning that far ahead?"
All I do is plan ahead. I like being prepared for every possible route.
"Wait, have you even asked her to be your girlfriend?"
I scoff, glaring at him. "How long have you been waiting to ask that?"
His smile returns, and things feel almost back to normal. "Since day number one, man. I knew there was something special about her since she came with us."
Wanting to call him an idiot, I turn my head at the sound of names being called out.
Rather than our usual names, they're using our real ones. Like they want to poke an already pissed bear, the two officers jerk their chin, ordering us to move.
Pretty sure I hear a few inmates muttering their appreciation as Casper stands.
"Maybe all of our ladies came at once?" He sounds hopeful, but it hits me in the chest all the wrong ways.
Margot can't come visit me, and I can't get a hold of her without taking a risk. We've been in here what, six days? No, seven.
I've left her alone for an entire week, and I don't have a clue how she's doing.
It's been driving me mad.
We’re split into groups because they’re smart not to gather us all in one room. Last time, it had a devastating outcome.
The steel door clicks shut behind Casper and I, but the heavy, suffocating weight that’s been hanging over our heads for all of these days suddenly shifts.
One man sits at the metal table, and he doesn't look like the stone-faced, aggressive state investigators who have been breathing down our necks all week. In fact, he isn’t wearing a badge at all. He’s dressed in a crisp, tailored suit, his expensive leather briefcase unclasped on the table.
Seeing this man is a good sign. Thank God.
He’s a part of Cash’s legal team.
Seeing us, he stands and jerks his chin at the officer behind us, demanding privacy. Once we’re alone, he lets out a sigh.
“Every time I have to see you two, it feels like I lose a year of my life.” Putting his complaint out in the air, a smile forms on his lips. “I’ve got good news. Your poor luck has turned around.”
I don’t speak, but Casper lets out a relieved groan as he shuffles closer. “Hit me with it. You got us the lighter sentence, didn’t you?”
He snorts, shaking his head. “Even better. You're being processed for release," he says, his tone calm. "Effective immediately."
Casper’s jaw drops. "Wait. Seriously?"
“Thanks to a certain set of events being brought to light about a certain judge who took your case being under an investigation for gross ethical misconduct, your crew has gotten a fresh set of eyes on each case.”
“We’ve been granted bail?” When I speak, I’ve damned myself to be hopeful.
He nods. “I don’t know why Christian always agrees to put so much into your little group, but you owe him far more than money. He has a name to uphold and playing the role of a biker is…”
His words blur into nothing as I register what is happening.
If Ashford had gotten word of the change, he would’ve set the bail so high that even Cash would second-guess saving us. Cash is either pulling even more strings than I’d expect or—
“What happened to Edward Ashford?” The question leaves me in a rush, and I’m suddenly leaning against the table, desperate to know the answer.
The man snorts again, shaking his head. “They were smart enough to take him up state for questioning. He’s got a lot of heat on him for human trafficking, and not too many fans inside this place. I’m afraid you missed his stepping-down speech. It was quite humorous.”
"So we're free?" Casper asks, his attention moving to the door on the other side of the room. "We can go home?"
"Soon. There's a little more paperwork that needs to be done. There are plenty of you. It will take more time, but by the end of today, yes. You'll be able to go home."
Nodding next to Casper, I take one of the chairs at the table and sit. My knees are slightly weak, the sudden rush of gravity catching up to me as I wrap my mind around the fact that our plan actually worked.
We'd spent so many months calculating every move, but seeing the dominoes fall in real time leaves me feeling hollowed out and relieved rather than celebratory.
Margot got involved, didn't she? She did it for me.
At my change of expression, Casper crashes down next to me. "Keep it together, Prez. You look cooler when you're angry."
Wiping a heavy hand down my face, I force a breath into my lungs and look at him. "How do I look when I'm feeling happy?"
He grins, a flash of white teeth, and slaps my shoulder. "Creepy as hell."
Oh, that's rich coming from him. Unfortunately, no matter how much I try to push this feeling rising in my chest down, it's clearly not going anywhere.
There is only one place this feeling belongs.
I need to get back home. I need to look into her eyes and see for myself that she's safe. The only way I’m going to truly breathe again is when I’m standing right in front of the woman I love.
My next fight isn't against a man or a crooked system. It’s against time itself—and it’s going to be the hardest damn thing I’ve ever faced to remain patient.
This time around, I've got no choice but to face it head-on.
By the time I'm out, the sun is barely beginning to dip toward the horizon. As much as I want to stop and enjoy a lungful of air and the heat of the sun, I'm too busy with having a body thrown at me.
Cassia jumps on me, hugging me tight, all while she's lovingly calling me terrible names. I think she calls me an idiot twice, her list of insults running slim. I hug her back, silencing her with my grip.
"Sorry." Mumbling the apology, I wait until she's got everything out of her system before I'm setting her down. "Please tell me no one tried to touch our territory."
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, already tired of me getting straight to business.
"Those Hounds started sniffing around, and I was worried we were going to have to kick their ass. But I guess they were helping?"
Meaning I'm going to owe Cerberus a favor for not taking advantage.
"Right," I mutter, barely tracking her words. The club politics, the turf, the debts—it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now, every instinct in my body is screaming at me to find a ride and head straight back to the apartment complex.
I turn to tell Cassia I'm leaving, but the words die in my throat.
Across the lot, standing near one of our vans is a woman with short, dark brown hair. A pair of oversized sunglasses hides half her face, but there's no doubt she's looking my way. Her mouth is pinched into a tight, strained line as she squirms by her lonesome.
She doesn't have to lift her glasses to show me what's beneath. I barely register my sister's next words before the world around me blurs. My boots catch pavement as I move.
I don't stop moving until I've got my arms wrapped around her frame, and I'm crushing her tight.
"Your hair—"
"Does it look bad?" Margot's watery voice cracks as she hugs me back. "I couldn't go anywhere without anyone noticing. I'm like a freaking poster child for trauma right now."
I bury my face into the soft locks and breathe in the scent of cherry blossom. God, it smells delicious. The best thing a man can breathe in.
"You're gorgeous no matter what you change." Pulling back, I push her glasses on top of her head so I can see her glossy eyes. Checking over her to make sure nothing's wrong, she knocks me out with a smile that feels like a direct hit to my heart.
I need to tell her how I feel. I'd made a mistake not telling her before, and now that she's right here, out in the open, I can feel the words building up in my chest.
She pulls away from my touch, opting to reach out for my face instead. Lifting onto her toes, she drags me down when she can't reach my mouth.
Behind me, I hear someone hoot out as we kiss, and I'm willing to bet it's fucking Casper. He's the last thing I want to think about while kissing her.
Pulling away, her eyes glisten. "I love you, Dante."
Her saying the words first makes it a miracle that my legs don't give out.
"Fuck. You weren't supposed to say that.
" As the words leave me, confusion fills her face, but I kiss her again.
"You completely ruined my timeline. I spent all those days planning out a proper, flawless way to tell you that I'm completely yours.
That I love you, too. It was going to be corny and perfect, and not in front of the county's jail with an audience. "
She shakes her head and laughs when I can't help but kiss her again. Her mouth is a damn magnet. "No, this is perfect. You love me."
So fucking much that she doesn't have the slightest clue.
Looking over at the van next to us, I pull away long enough to open the door. Inside, a few prospects are waiting patiently to transport us wherever we need to go.
They straighten up when they see me and abandon their seats when I jerk my chin, motioning them to give us some space.
"What are you—" She gasps as I tug her toward the back.
"We've got some catching up to do, and it won't be in front of this group. They'd never let us live it down." Answering simply, it's almost funny as she joins me and I slam the door shut behind us.
The first time we were packed into one of these vans, I didn't understand why I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. Now, I’m not going to be able to keep my hands to myself. This time, I know exactly what she does to me.
This woman is everything. The love of my life, and the person I desperately need at my side.
And now, she's entirely mine.