Page 59 of Jacob

Molly wasn’t his. She wanted to be. You’d have to be deaf and blind not to see it, and fuck Dash for bringing her along. He knew. Goddamn shit-stirrer that he was.

She’d made it clear as hell the two times out of four she visited Romeo. The first time, he was curious about why she bothered. Doing time got lonely and he didn’t have anything else to do. Then she started talking about when he got out, and he knew her intentions. However, the jail wasn’t the place to turn a bitch down. So, he’d let her talk.

When she showed up twice after that, he refused to go out of his cell. Nope. He wasn’t about to involve himself with that shit. Romeo would avoid drama at all costs if he could. Club whores, if given too much leeway, brought nothing but drama. Growing up around the club, he’d seen it far too many times. Brothers who didn’t keep the limits clear with those women found themselves in a world of shit.

No thank you. He didn’t need that shit.

The fourth time, when she clearly didn’t understand, he agreed to go to the visitor’s room, but only because she’d forced his hand. He couldn’t have her keep coming. Eventually, she’d cause a scene. He needed to put a stop to it. So he came out of his cell to see her. However, he only stayed long enough to tell her to stop showing up. He didn’t even linger for her shocked protests.

He’d thought she understood. She stopped coming. He’d thought she’d gotten the hint. Apparently not. Another talk was on the horizon, and he hated having this talk.

She was still a club slut. Molly wasn’t even a girl a guy reserved. Sometimes, guys took a shine to a girl and didn’t want to share. He’d sort of permanently reserve her. The brothers wouldn’t go to her, but it didn’t make her his Ol’ Lady. Romeo hadn’t done that.

She could’ve fucked all of his brothers while he’d been locked up. That was fine. It didn’t bother him any, but she wasn’t the type of woman Romeo wanted. If he ever took an Ol’ Lady, it would be someone from outside the club. And that was abig if.

Walking the bike back, he pushed that out of his mind. He pushed Molly out of his mind. There was plenty of time to think about Molly and her bullshit. Right now, he needed to focus on something he enjoyed. He wanted to feel the wind against his face and the vibration of his bike beneath him. He’d cut her off completely after this. He had no need for a bitch who caught feelings. There were plenty of willing women waiting at the clubhouse.

Maybe he’d find a brunette this time. He’d always liked brunettes—with curly hair.

And freckles.

Green eyes.

Okay, now that was a thought hereallyneeded to push out of his damn mind.

Pulling the clutch, he revved the bike a few times just to hear the beautiful music she could make. He let out another orgasmic groan only for his ears, beneath the deafening bursts of power. He missed her. Releasing the clutch, he twisted the throttle and the bike shot forward with a thunderous roar.

Six months behind bars. Six months of sharing a cell smelling someone else’s body odor and farts. He needed this. This was freedom. The open road, nothing between him and the wind.

Lifting his chin, he let it flow over him, around him, past him as he picked up speed, pushing the bike again. Not too hard. It’d fucking suck getting a speeding ticket within minutes of getting out of county. The idea gave him a laugh.

Ten minutes on his bike and already the shit ass mood Molly put him in had evaporated. Riding was the only therapy that worked. It settled his mind. It made everything better.

Two hours later, Romeo punched the code into the gate, and it slid open. Easy on the clutch, he rolled his bike through the gate, waiting for it to close behind him before he continued his way down the drive toward the clubhouse.

Grinning when he saw the line of bikes outside, he parked at the end. Leaning against the wall, Jennings, the prospect who’d missed the surveillance camera, watched over the bikes. He took a second to just revel in the moment. His bike was in line with his father’s and the other members of Odin’s Fury. He wore the same club colors and had a full patch. He was a member. He’d earned his patch and he was home. Closing his eyes, he took a deep inhale of the free air.

Fucking amazing.

“Romeo, dude, I—”

Holding up a hand, Romeo shook his head. It didn’t matter. Undoing the buckle of his helmet before he pulled it off, he regarded the tall bulky army vet wearing dark jeans and a white shirt under his prospect cut.

“It was on a different system,” he offered the excuse. It did no good holding grudges against brothers or future brothers. Dismounting the bike, he hugged the man with a slap on the back. “You might have just given me the out I need to get Molly off my ass.”

Jennings laughed and scrubbed the back of his neck when they parted. “I wouldn’t mind her ass,” he commented.

With a laugh, Romeo nodded. “Have at it.”

“Hey-o, Nancy!” Dash’s high-pitched whistle cut through the air followed by his shout. “Get your ass inside. Prez needs to see you.”

Sharing a look with Jennings, Romeo took a deep breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Monty, the president of Odin’s Fury Motorcycle Club’s mother chapter, rarely spoke to members privately. Usually, all orders came through the officers or while they were in church—their club meetings. So, to be called to see Monty, well fuck, he’d been locked up, what could he have screwed up to earn the president’s attention?

Keeping his head high, he walked through the roaring party in the clubhouse behind Dash. Once he’d trudged up the steps, at the top he turned to go to Monty’s office. No weaseling out of it. The anticipation coursing through him was laced with curiosity and only a bit of anxiety.

He couldn’t fail at being a brother. He couldn’t shame his father like that. It just wasn’t acceptable. It wasn’t something he would allow to happen.

“Here,” his sponsor said, standing in the doorway of church.

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