White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5) (21 page)

This trip will be good for us. Get Hope out of the house. Keep her focused on good things. And I’m doing something good for my best friend by keeping his woman happy. Win-win.

And if I happen to pick up an engagement ring for Trinity while I’m there, even better.

That’s what’s on my mind the next morning. Well, that and the fact that Trinity’s actually still asleep for once.

My phone goes off, just as I’m about to wake her up in my special way.

Hope:
Can you come upstairs when you have a chance?

Doesn’t seem urgent. I go back and forth and finally decide to let Trinity sleep a little longer.

When I get to Hope and Rock’s room, I almost wish I’d chosen to wake Trinity up instead.

The door’s open a crack and swings wider as I knock. Hope’s frantically pawing through Rock’s dresser, items scattered all over the place.

“What’re you up to, Hope?”

She barely glances at me before grabbing a dark red velvet box and thrusting it at me. I already know what’s in it and my gut clenches.

She flips the lid open and plucks the hunk of white gold out and shoves it in my hands. “Does this fit Rock? Do you know? He never wears rings. I have no idea what size he wears and I can’t exactly go down to the jail to measure him.” She’s frantic, babbling and on the verge of tears, which is finally what snaps me out of my fog from seeing that hideous fucking ring again.

“Yeah, it fits him,” I answer, hoping she’ll have no follow-up questions. The last time I saw that ring was when Rock slipped it off our former president’s finger. Right before we buried the guy. It’s a reminder of how our former officers chose materialistic greed over their brothers. How Rock ended up in prison before—for another crime he didn’t actually commit—and how we’d lost brothers because of the greedy arrogance that consumed the club before we took over and returned it to what it was supposed to be. A brotherhood.

Am I planning to explain all of that to Hope? Hell fucking no. Rock can give her that history lesson if he wants to one day.

The ring’s heavy. Ugly as shit too. A big grinning skull with a ruby between its teeth and a diamond-encrusted crown. Why a ruby when our colors are blue and gray? Who fucking knows. Probably because it was the most expensive.

“Let me see your hands. I think your hands are bigger than Rock’s. Does it fit you?”

I don’t even have it in me to toss out some dirty size-reference joke. To make her happy, I slip it on. “Too small, sweetheart. But I’ve seen him wear it. It fits.”

“When?” She takes it back, holding it in her palm, testing its weight. “Good grief it’s heavy. You could use it as a weapon.”

Yup. Sure could.

“Oh God.” Her eyes meet mine. “It’s not his old wedding ring is it?”

A short, sharp bite of laughter bursts out of me. “No. He definitely tossed that.”

“Oh. Well, how come I’ve never seen it before?”

My mouth twists into a bit of a smile. Should have known nosy lawyer-gal would be full of questions. “It belonged to the last president,” I tell her. Maybe that will satisfy her curiosity.

“Oh.” She glances at the ring again. “Ruger, right? After what you told me, I’m surprised Rock kept this. Ruger sounded awful.”

That’s one way of putting it.

“You never said what happened to him.”

Shit.
“He’s long gone, Hope.”

She stares at me for a minute. “Will Rock mind if I take it with me to the jeweler? Just so he can measure it? Obviously it’s valuable, but I’ll be careful.”

“Yeah. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She tilts her head, surveying the mess she’s made of Rock’s dresser. “I guess I better put everything back. Rock would have a fit if he saw this mess,” she says with a sad bit of laughter.

Christ, she looks so lost, I don’t know what the fuck to do for her. “Come here, hon.” She shuffles over and lets me wrap her up in a hug. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“I know,” she mumbles.

Her faith that Rock’s gonna get out from under these charges, her determination to push forward with the wedding even though Rock’s behind bars, fuck I can’t put into words what it does to me. But a warm sensation spreads through my chest. I love her for her loyalty to my friend.

“Good girl.” I pat her back once and let her go. “Get ready. We’ll leave in an hour.”

“Okay.” Her voice is a little stronger now. Maybe I actually did some good here.

I shut the door behind me and find Z in the hallway.

He lifts his chin at the door. “Everything okay?”

Hell, we’re all so fucked up he doesn’t even make any of the obvious jokes at finding me leaving Hope’s room.

“Yeah. Gonna take her to pick up Rock’s wedding band.”

Z’s entire demeanor softens. “Poor girl. This has been awful on her.”

“Your room’s right next to her. She doing okay?”

Normally I’d get some smart ass remark from Z. “I don’t know. She cries every night. Feel like shit. Don’t know what to do for her.”

I’m not surprised. Still hate hearing it though.

“Give her privacy. She’s keeping her shit together during the day.” And I
almost
feel bad about that. I’ve been so hard on her in the past, she’s probably scared to show any weakness around us without Rock here to protect her. The whole situation pisses me the fuck off.
This.
This right here is the reason I’ve been so fucking hard on her.

Still can’t believe it’s actually happening.

“You gonna be okay? I’d go with you, but we’re already thin down at CB.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine.”

“Trin going too?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good. Hey, Murphy’s solution was to send Axel down for door duty.”

It feels good to actually laugh about something. “Shocker.”

“Bro, we’re hurting. I’m probably gonna do it.”

I lift my shoulders. Heidi bitching Axel out over club business isn’t our problem. And if Axel can’t handle her, he probably shouldn’t be in the club anyway. I pity the guy who eventually ends up with Heidi sometimes. “That’s why he’s a prospect. To see if he can hack it. Doesn’t matter who his old lady is. We’re not sending him there to fuck dancers. He’s there to man the door and throw out pricks who can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You just hate Murphy being right for the wrong reasons.”

Z snickers. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I’m with you on that one.”

Next to us, the door opens and Hope steps out. “Hey, guys.”

“Morning, sweetheart. You okay?” Z asks.

She takes a deep breath, lifts her chin and pushes her shoulders back before answering. “Yes. Wrath’s taking me to get Rock’s ring today.”

“I heard.”

I’m amused that she’s ready so early. I told her we’d leave in an hour because I figured that way she’d be ready by the time I actually wanted to leave.

“I’m heading downstairs. Trin’s up.”

Ah, fuck. I still had plans to wake my girl up on my own. Once the two of them get together and start gabbing there’s no prying them apart.

After she leaves, Z cocks his head and fixes his no nonsense stare on me. “You gonna look for a ring too while you’re there?”

I’m too surprised to answer right away. “Why? You want me to propose to you?”

“No, you dick. For Trinity.”

“Maybe. Why?”

He shrugs. “No reason. Just probably sucks for her doing all this planning for Hope’s wedding—which might not even happen—when she’s got no idea—”

“First, you’ve got way too much time on your hands if you’re worrying about shit like that.”

He chuckles, but I’m not finished. “And second, it’s happening. She already knows it’s happening. I just need to find the right time. And now doesn’t seem like it.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Wait a second. “Did she say something to you?”

“No. She just seems down, that’s all.”

“Our president’s in jail. We’re all down.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I know how tight they are.”

“All right. Sorry I said anything.”

I know his question came from a good place, so I’m not mad. Not really.

“It’s fine. Now I need to go get ready for my torture.”

He cocks his head at me.

“Trapped in a cage for four hours to go
shopping
? Come on, Z, you know me better.”

Now he snickers. “CB’s looking like the superior choice all of a sudden, isn’t it?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Past the smiles I faked with Wrath and Trinity all day long, there’s an aching emptiness in my chest. Unrelenting sadness throbs there every night when I slide into our bed alone. Tonight it’s even worse.

I miss Rock so much, it’s a struggle to draw breath into my lungs. He should have been there with me today.

Rolling over, I click on the bedside lamp and pull out the journal I’ve been keeping since the first time I visited Rock in jail. Knowing the officers would read any letters I sent him, I’ve been writing everything down to give him when he’s home.

As I set the pen to paper, I don’t think about what I want to write. The words have been drifting through my mind all day. Their significance only sunk in when I found myself in bed alone again.

Dear Rock,

I bought your wedding band today. Wrath drove us to Boston. Don’t be mad at him. I threatened to drive myself if he didn’t take Trinity and me. For a second, I froze in the store. So worried I’d be slipping the ring on your finger inside the jailhouse walls. But I have faith you’re going to be returned to me.

After I picked your ring out, Wrath silently urged me to take Trinity next door. It was the perfect distraction to keep me from sobbing because you weren’t there with us. When we got home, he showed me the engagement ring he picked for her. I got so excited I almost ruined his surprise, but I couldn’t help it. It was the first happiness I’ve felt since our engagement party…right before it all went to hell.

I can’t sleep tonight. I miss my softness against your hardness. The solid feel of your body next to me. When I’m down, you always make me laugh. I miss your hands and the way you can’t keep them off me. I miss how no matter what position we fall asleep in, I always wake up with you wrapped around me. I love your hair and the way you close your eyes when I run my fingers through it.

Everything feels wrong without you here. The clubhouse feels empty, even though it’s full of people. Half of me is missing. All day long, I keep my eyes tear free and my chin up. Stay positive, so that the guys can focus on what they need to do and so you can be proud of me. But alone in our room, I can’t do it. I’m so scared they’ll keep you in jail until trial. These weeks without you here have been miserable. The thought of years of this terrifies me.

I need you back.

Hope

I set my pen down and close the notebook. I stare at it for a few minutes before placing it back in the drawer.

The case against Rock is weak. But I also know justice isn’t always served. Eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable. And that’s all they seem to have against him. I’ve been helping Glassman assemble a list of experts to testify about how unreliable eyewitnesses are. Especially when you take into account that this witness’ account came so long after the murder. I’m confident Glassman can tear the witness’ testimony apart on the stand. I just don’t think I can hold on that long. It’s absurd. Insane that they’re holding him on such flimsy evidence.

My heart races, blood thundering through my ears as I work out the details of his case. Not for the first time, I fall asleep going over all the possible outcomes.

The worst part of jail is trying to get any sleep. It’s not the cot with the springs digging into my back, the flat pillow or the scratchy blanket. I’ve slept on worse. It’s not even the endless noise. I’ve learned to block that out.

No, every time I close my eyes, I see Hope. We’d spent every night side by side since she sold her house and moved into the clubhouse with me permanently. Yes, waking up and burying myself inside her almost every morning is great. But it’s the rest of it that keeps me awake. I miss the weight of her next to me. The soft little snores she makes. The way she “accidentally” grinds her ass into me when she stretches in the morning. I miss her long hair spilling over the pillows, tickling my nose. Stupid, sappy shit that I took for granted and now I miss more than anything.