TWENTY-SEVEN
I CHECK my phone obsessively for the first two days. Dex messages back whenever he can and tells me everything is okay. I get a call as he wakes up, and a text before he goes to sleep, which is much later than me, but I don’t mind. Days three, four, and five pass the same. Calls and messages, but no mention of what’s going on or when I’ll be going home.
Faye: I miss you.
Dex: Miss you too.
Faye: What’s going on over there?
Dex: Trust me. Will call when I can.
Faye: Okay. I want to come home.
Dex: When it’s safe.
How long is that going to take? I don’t think anyone is ever going to be safe.
Paula takes me to see a local doctor for a checkup. I feel depressed that Dex wasn’t there with me.
Selfish, I know.
When I don’t hear from Dex on days six and seven, I call Cindy, who tells me Dex is okay—just busy.
But something doesn’t feel right.
I call Arrow, Irish, and Tracker. No one answers.
I start to panic.
The next day I ring Jim and demand answers. “Little girl,” he sighs.
“Just tell me!” I yell into the phone. Is he dead? In the hospital?
“He’s in jail. Cops came to search the clubhouse. Dex was armed.”
Jail?
“When will he get out?” I croak, clutching the phone so hard it might break.
“We’ll find out soon. I sent the lawyer, Greg, to try and get him out. Stay strong, okay?”
“I will,” I mutter before we both hang up.
Jail.
At least he’s alive.
When I finally get his call a few days later, the tears refuse to subside.
“Faye,” he says quietly as a greeting.
“Oh my god, Dex!” I sob into the phone. I start to pace as we talk.
“How are you and the baby?” he asks.
“We’re both fine. When can you get out?” I ask him, rushing the words out.
He sighs. “My lawyer is trying to get me out on bail. Should find out soon.”
“I miss you,” I whisper.
“You too,” he replies. “I don’t have much time.”
“Is it safe for me to go home?” I ask. “Fuck, I wish you were here.”
“Wait there until I come and get you” is all he says in reply.
“Okay. I love you.”
“Faye,” he murmurs, so much emotion in that one word.
“Dex?”
“I breathe you, baby, don’t give up on me.”
“I won’t.”
We hang up.
The next day I’m lying in bed when there’s a knock at the door. “Come in, Paula!” I call out.
The door opens, and I turn my head. Then I scream. “Dex! You’re here!”
He walks over. “Don’t get out of bed for me.”
With my size, it’s kind of hard to anyway.
He takes me into his arms, kissing my forehead, my nose, and finally my lips. “Missed you so fuckin’ much, Faye.”
He kisses my stomach twice.
“I missed you too. I was going crazy. What happened? And how are you here?” I ask him, not letting go of him for even one second.
“Lawyer got me out on bail this morning, I stopped at the clubhouse first, then came straight here,” he says, nuzzling my neck. When he starts to trail kisses down my collarbone I struggle to breathe.
“I’m not done questioning you yet,” I tell him.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Cops raided the clubhouse. I was armed, they took me in—possession of a firearm,” he says, kissing my mouth before I can say anything in return. He pulls down the strap of my white sundress and brushes his thumb over one of my nipples. I moan into his mouth.
“I want you,” he says against my lips.
“Then take me,” I reply. I thread my fingers through his hair and grip on the ends. His lips don’t leave mine as his fingers start to explore my body. I start to pull his T-shirt off, gripping the hem that sits just above his ass and sliding it upward. He pulls away from me for a second to tug it over his head and throw it on the floor. I admire his chest for a few seconds, before he lies back.
“I don’t want to squash you. Can you ride me?” he asks, lifting up my dress.
I grin and undo the button on his jeans. He lifts up his hips as I pull his pants down. His arousal stands up proud, begging for attention. I kiss the head of him, then pull down my panties and straddle him. He plumps my breasts with his hands, then leans forward to taste. Unable to take any more, I slide his length inside me, slowly, inch by inch. We both moan at the same time as I start to ride him slowly. Our eyes stay connected as I take my time with him, showing him with my body how much I missed him and how much he means to me. We finish together.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask him after we catch our breath.
“Is this our pillow talk?” he asks, stroking my hair.
“Dex . . .”
“I have to go to court in a few weeks. Because I have a record, my lawyer thinks I might have to do some time,” he says hesitantly. His eyes flash with uncertainty.
“Possession of a firearm. You’d have to do about six months,” I gasp, sitting up on the bed.
“Babe, it’ll be okay,” he soothes, rubbing my back. “You’ll be safe. That’s all that matters.”
“What happened with Arrow?” I ask him, turning to face him.
“He’s fine, and it’s all taken care of.”
“Dex—”
“You don’t want the details, Faye, trust me on that.”
I sigh. “Shall we drive back now? Or tomorrow morning?”
“Paula insisted we stay for dinner,” he says. “How have you been feeling?”
“Tired, but everything else is fine. I saw the local doctor here,” I assure him.
“Good,” he whispers. “Do you know how happy you make me? You’re all I could think about. If something happened to you . . .”
“I’m fine, it’s you who was in jail,” I say with an eye roll. And has to go back there for six fucking months. What the hell do I do with that information? He might be going away as soon as Clover is born.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, wrapping me in his arms.
“You aren’t going to be here for Clover and me,” I whisper. “I know it’s selfish to even say, but . . .”
“It’s not selfish. I’m sorry, Faye. Let’s not think about this right now.”
How am I supposed to not think about it?