Page 49 of Hook

Finally, Detective Reeves nods, closing his notebook. "I'll see what I can do," he says, his tone noncommittal but not unkind. "No promises, but I'll review everything and speak with the arresting officers."

As he walks away, I feel a glimmer of hope, fragile as a soap bubble. I turn to Brick, my eyes pleading. "Do you think...?" I can't even finish the sentence.

Brick's expression is guarded, but I see a flicker of optimism in his eyes. "We've done all we can for now. Let's head back to the clubhouse and wait."

I don’t get even a wink of sleep though everyone tells me I need to. I don’t care if I’m hurting. Hook is hurting worse and he’s all alone.

Just as the sun begins to rise again I hear the sound of a car pulling up. I whip my head around to look at the survelliance camera. Before I can process what I’m seeing all the guys are on their feet roaring with happiness.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about Hook!”

It’s the detective’s car. I watch in slow motion as Hook slowly gets out the car. No handcuffs. Nothing.

He’s home.

He’s back.

I don’t wait for anyone else. I run with all the energy I have left inside of me out of the clubhouse house, through the courtyard and straight toward Hook.

“Miss me already?”

I throw myself into Hook's arms, nearly knocking him off balance. He catches me, his strong arms wrapping around me tightly. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent mixed with the sterile smell of the police station.

"You have no idea," I mumble into his shirt, my voice muffled by the fabric. I pull back just enough to look up at him, drinking in the sight of his face. There are dark circles under his eyes and his face is bruised up , but he's here. He's real. He's free.

Hook's lips curve into a tired smile as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. "I'm sorry I worried you, Bea," he says softly. His eyes flick to the group of BCMC members now gathered around us, and his smile widens. "Thanks for having my back, guys."

Brick steps forward, clapping Hook on the shoulder. "Always, brother. But let's get you inside. You look like you could use a drink and about twelve hours of sleep."

As we make our way back to the clubhouse, I keep my arm wrapped firmly around Hook's waist, afraid that if I let go, he might disappear again. The guys crowd around us, peppering Hook with questions about what happened at the station.

"Detective Reeves really came through," Hook explains as we settle into the main room. Someone presses a cold beer into his hand, and he takes a long swig before continuing. "He reviewed the footage and spoke to the DA. They're not pressing charges, but..."

He trails off, his expression growing serious. I feel my heart rate pick up, sensing there's more to the story. "But what?" I prompt gently.

Hook sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "They want me to testify against Lance."

Semi is the first to break the silence. "So what are you gonna do, man?"

I squeeze his hand, trying to convey all the support and love I feel for him in that simple gesture. "Whatever you decide," I say firmly, "we'll face it together."

“Looks like you really did trade one convict in for another. Nothing is ever going to take me away from you Bea.”

“I know. Lock me up and throw away the key.” I joke with him but he leans in and nuzzles my ear.

“I’m going to hold you to it, sweetheart.”

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