A year and a half after fifteen Brikken members were carted off to prison, the remaining family left behind stood out in the rain in front of the clubhouse. Johanna watched Olin and Thorn from underneath the umbrella she held in her hand. The two brothers stood ahead of the crowd, waiting for Jett to arrive.

As the first of the members to be released from Seattle Penitentiary, and the youngest, Jett brought hope back to the Brikken family members.

The weather couldn't dampen the good mood. She turned her head the other way. As hard as she tried to be happy—and she was—she was envious of Jett gaining his freedom.

Chief still had two and a half years left of his sentence. The smile she wore only touched the surface. Her mixed emotions made her grumpy and selfish.

"Here he comes," shouted Chano.

The familiar rumble distracted her from her pity party. She stood on tiptoes to see past the men in front of her. Over the last eighteen months, Keeffe updated everyone on Jett's stay behind bars. It came as no surprise that he survived. He was his father's son.

Finally, she caught sight of the truck behind the two riders who rode escorting Jett. All the members moved forward while the women stayed back, giving Jett time to get out and take the back slaps and congratulations.

She caught sight of Karla standing out in the rain, unaware of her clothes getting drenched. Jett's mom clasped her hands under her chin and beamed a smile of happiness toward Jett. Johanna blinked tears out of her eyes, not letting herself be jealous.

Jett walked past the men, spotted Karla, and headed in her direction. Karla ran toward him, and Jett caught her, lifting her off her feet in his exuberant hug. Johanna discreetly wiped her cheek and smiled at the mother/son reunion.

"It's great to have Jett come back to Brikken," said Vikki.

She looked at Vikki. "It is."

"Soon, Chief will be back, and everything will return to normal." Vicki held a black garbage sack over her head, though the raindrops ran down the front of her jacket. "I bet this makes you more excited."

"Mm..." She smiled. Soon was a depressing way to describe two and a half more years.

Jett broke away from his mom and headed toward the clubhouse. Johanna walked forward and intercepted him.

"Welcome home, Jett." She reached out with one arm and hugged him. "There's food set out when you get a break from everyone swarming around you and your room upstairs is clean."

He kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Johanna."

The quietness and deeper way of talking took her back. She stepped away and smiled at him. He'd aged. Only five years older than her, he now wore dark circles under his eyes and sported two scars on his face. One on his forehead and one under his eye.

She wanted to ask him what happened but realized he probably wanted to forget his time spent in prison, so she kept smiling and watched him head toward Chandra and sweep her off her feet.

Jett never stopped, he carried Chandra inside the clubhouse.

"Jett's going to get him a piece." Olin laughed behind her. "He'll be done in three minutes."

"I've got a ten spot that he doesn't last more than five minutes," said D-Con.

She rolled her eyes and went inside with the others. Jumping right into filling plates for some of the bikers who would starve if not for a woman filling a plate for them, she worked her way around the pool table laden with food and fed the men.

Keeffe grabbed her arm, stopping her. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She raised her brows. "It's a good day with Jett coming home."

"Right." Keeffe let her go.

She smiled, assuring him she was fine. Looking around, it seemed everyone who was interested in eating had been fed. She headed to the bar, found a paper cup, and poured herself some coffee. Standing off to the side, she watched Olin and Thorn talking to a group of members. The two brothers were more talkative than usual.

They always seemed confident and unaffected with their older brother and Chief in prison. She'd tried to talk with them a few times to find out what they'd heard to see if it matched the information she'd received, but they preferred not to talk. But, they were obviously relieved to have Jett back, and she was happy for them.

Halfway finished with her coffee, she caught sight of Jett walking into the room, tucking his T-shirt in, wearing his vest. She sucked in her breath at the broad shoulders and stoic expression reminding her of Chief. Then, it was gone as he grinned at someone in the room and relaxed, looking more like Karla.

The men of Brikken cheered for him. Warmth filled her as a pang of understanding hit her. Upstairs, for how few minutes it took him, he'd received what he lacked in prison. The need to touch another human being, to seek comfort, and release the pent-up tension was an emotional need, more so than normal people realized.

She snorted. Normal people.

When had she classified herself?

"Do we have any more paper plates?" yelled Freddy standing beside the pool table.

She set her cup down and walked into the kitchen, letting everyone stay around Jett, and went to retrieve more plates. The quietness away from the others let her have a few seconds to herself.

Picking up the needed items, her hand shook. She stared down at the tremor inside of her. At twenty years old, she was too young to handle the absence of the most important person in her life or maybe all the loss over the years of people leaving made her stronger so that she could handle the long gap of living without Chief.

She squared her shoulders, believing in the later. Because she'd been born to love Chief. That everything up to today prepared her for what she must face. She inhaled a shaky breath, almost feeling Chief standing behind her, laying his hands on her shoulder and kissing her temple, his beard caressing the side of her neck.

She could do this because not doing it wasn't an option.

Carrying the plates across the kitchen, she stepped out into the hallway and almost ran into Jett.

"Hey." She held up the stack. "Can I get you some food?"

"Yeah." He put his hand on her arm. "In a second. Can I talk to you?"

"Sure." She motioned her head toward the kitchen, and he followed her back into the room. "What's up?"

Jett leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "Thought you'd like to know Chief is doing well, counting his days."

Her body tensed. "What's he look like?"

Jett came back hardened. His unblemished face, heavily whiskered, his skin scarred.

He shrugged. "Never seen him."

"Seriously?" She gulped, not imagining them separated. "You were in the same prison though. How could they do that?"

"They separated most of the Brikken members into different blocks to keep riots from developing. Graham and Leech are with Chief though." His eye twitched. "I talked to him twice during my stay, and he's fine. It's not his first time wearing a jumper."

"How did you talk to him?"

His mouth softened. "I got word through the inmates that he wanted to talk and to meet him in the nurse's room." He touched his forehead. "I head-butted a wall to get there."

Her gaze lowered to his cheek. She touched her finger under her eye. "Is that one from the second time you met Chief?"

"No." His voice deepened. "That's from a fight."

She looked away. "What did Chief do to get himself to the nurse?"

"Split his elbow open, and the last time he had his cellmate pop him in the nose." He paused, and she turned to him, then he continued. "He'd busted his nose before, so you won't see any difference."

The amount of discomfort must've been miserable. She had no idea if they gave inmates pain medication. She highly doubted it.

"He wanted you to keep taking care of the women in Brikken. To remember what he's told you," said Jett.

She nodded. She always remembered.

"H-he's treated well?" she asked.

"He's surviving. There's no question that he will walk out of the prison when he's served his sentence." Jett stepped forward. "He's too full of pride for Brikken, for Rollo, for you, not to make it back to you. Doing anything less than succeeding isn't acceptable in his world. You know that."

She nodded. "I'm glad you're back, Jett. I really am. You've been missed."

"After I eat, talk to Keeffe, take a fucking shower, I'm going to sleep." The corner of his mouth tipped. "Do you care if I crash at the house?"

She tilted her head. All his stuff was upstairs in his room at the clubhouse.

His eyes hardened. "I'll just crash on the floor in my old room. You won't see or hear—"

"No, of course, you're welcome anytime. It's no problem. Do you still have a key?" She shifted the plates in her hand. "My purse is out in the car, but I can get you mine if you need them."

"I've got one in the safe in the meeting room. I'll have Keeffe open it up for me." He stepped backward. "Better get those plates out there before they start eating off the table."

"Right," she whispered. "I'll get you some food, too."

They walked into the main room of the clubhouse together. She filled and delivered a plate full of Jett's favorite foods.

Already caught up in conversation with the others, she stepped away to give him space. The picture he'd painted telling her the conditions of the prison and the lack of contact with the others was much different than she'd imagined.

Jett came home changed from his time behind bars. If she looked closely, she could still see the boy she'd grown up with and the bullheaded man he'd become, but his eyes were haunted and distant. The familiarity of a shared time in their life no longer present. Only a hardship he carried alone.