Every day over the last month had crept by living in Jett's house alone with no one to talk with and yet standing outside the Seattle Penitentiary, time ticked faster than Sydney could process. She stood only feet away from Jett inside, hoping to feel close to him.

She only felt like a girl standing outside a prison scared to go in and see the man she'd thought about daily, hourly, for the last two years and four months. Reality settled over her.

He'd probably forgotten his promise to find her considering his circumstances had changed. There were more important things for him to think about since his arrest.

She gathered her hair in her hands and pulled the strands in front of her shoulder. No stranger to the Cyclone fence and ugly drab gray concrete building, she had no idea what happened inside an adult prison or how visitations worked.

"I'll be going inside with you." Olin left his helmet on the handlebar of his motorcycle.

She walked with Jett's brother toward the entrance. Nobody from Brikken gave her any warning that she was going to see Jett today or told her where he was located. Olin showed up at the house out of the blue and told her he was taking her.

"Does he know I'm coming?" she asked.

Olin looked at her without answering. Her nervousness tripled. The sons of Chief were as intimidating as their father. They also had the ability to make her feel overpowered.

"Okay," she muttered, walking through the gate behind Olin.

At the front desk, they were ushered to separate rooms, frisked, pockets emptied, and questioned. They even had her remove her earrings. Then, she signed the rules paper letting her know if she passed any contraband to the prisoner or resorted to violence, she would be committing a crime punishable by the courts or some stupid nonsense.

Led to a door, she walked into a room full of tables and chairs and about twenty other people. She found Olin sitting in the far corner and walked over and sat down beside him.

If anyone looked hard at her, they'd find her trembling.

She couldn't even breathe.

There wasn't enough oxygen in the crowded room.

Family members of the prisoners talked in low conversations around her. She wanted to stand up and pace but knew her feet in her current nervous state would trip her.

The attendant mentioned they would have one hour with the prisoner. She glanced at Olin. Did he plan to stay the whole time?

"Calm the fuck down," muttered Olin. "It's not like you're the one living behind bars for four years."

Shocked at Olin's vehemence, her legs stopped jumping, and she separated her clasped hands. She ducked her chin and stared at the surface of the table. Olin was right.

Jett's stay wasn't in a juvenile facility where education was part of the routine, and they provided group therapy, time outside, and guidance. He was spending hard time in a prison where he could be killed, harmed, and had to fight the demons of isolation away from his family, his club.

A soft hum entered the room. She lifted her gaze and found men escorted into the area from the steel door. Searching the people, her eyes were drawn above their heads to the man in the back, taller than the others.

Her heart beat loudly, echoing in her head. She couldn't feel her hands. Oh, my God, she couldn't feel her body.

Jett stared at her. She couldn't look away and panted for breath. Hyperventilating wouldn't help her if she passed out.

He looked different but the same.

His hair, while always long, hung even longer, parted in the center and meshing with his overgrown beard that hit the middle of his chest.

He'd aged.

There were wrinkles where there were none before. The tan he'd had was gone, and the paleness of his skin shocked her into moving. She planted her hands on the table and pushed out of the chair.

Olin's hand clamped down on her arm and pulled her back. Her butt landed hard on the chair. Stunned, she snapped out of the shocking reaction to Jett and studied him intently as he took the chair across from her.

The corner of his mouth was swollen, and he had a cut on his lower lip. She soaked him all in. A bruise covered his cheekbone making his scar stand out even whiter.

She had no idea what to say. It was Jett, but it wasn't Jett. It wasn't her Jett.

With her Jett, she could tell if she pleased him or if she'd angered him. His eyes would often go cold and hot, soft and hard.

He sat across from her and stared at her with a blankness that radiated no feelings. Her eyes burned, and she blinked, needing to look away.

"Don't," he said, his voice more gravely than she remembered. "You don’t have the right to look away."

"What?" she said, her voice croaking.

Her stiffened spine ached. She held on to the table, afraid if she let go, she'd crumble. He was supposed to be excited to see her, and he...he was angry.

"At the store." She nodded, encouraging herself. "M-my social worker spotted me buying the diapers." She swallowed hard. "I wanted to stay with you. I never would've gone inside if I thought I would be caught. They put me in a group home on the other side of Tacoma. I tried to run away to tell you what happened, hoping you would help me, and I could live with you again."

"Lower your voice," muttered Olin.

She glanced around the room, having forgotten that others were around and her voice grew higher with her need to explain why she was taken away from him. "The social worker couldn't place me in any of the foster homes and sent me to JDH. I tried to find you as soon as I got out."

"And, here I am, sitting in prison," said Jett.

The loss of him in her life more poignant seeing him across from her. Unable to touch him, she failed to make things right. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how much she thought of him, how much she wanted to be there for him after his sentence was over. But, Olin sat there listening to both of them.

Uncomfortable spilling her guts, she wasn't even sure Jett wanted to hear from her. She thought telling him what she'd gone through would be enough to be back in his life. Maybe she was wrong.

Olin stood and walked away from the table.

As if his leaving was a sign for her to talk privately, she said, "I've missed you."

"Did you now?"

"Yes...yes." Hurt that he'd doubt her when she'd had to choose between him or her sister and she'd done the best she could trying to keep both of them. Sure, she messed up.

The morning she got caught by her social worker, she never should've gone inside the store, and if she had, she should've worn makeup to make herself look older. She never went out in public after running away without disguising herself to look older and unrecognizable. That morning, she hadn't put any makeup on because Jett preferred her bare-faced. It was a mistake she'd regret for the rest of her life. "I wasn't running away from you."

"Not that time." His mouth tightened making the whiskers under his bottom lip stand out.

"I know you're mad," she said softly. "There's so much I want to explain, and I can now. I couldn't back then."

His gaze narrowed.

She moistened her lips. "I have a sister."

"Met her."

She leaned forward, pressing against the table. "I needed to protect her. She's in a good home. That wasn't always...she wasn't always in good foster homes, Jett. The family that she's with is strict, and they let me visit every Sunday because I had them believing I was her older sister. It's why I dyed my hair black and acted older. They didn't want anyone to know she had a sister. That's why I kept trying to leave you. I-I used to visit Kylie every Sunday, and when I couldn't, Kylie would get worried and upset. I'm her sister. The only family member she has, and I will never leave her. You have to believe me that I would've come back to you after seeing Kylie. I didn't want to leave you."

Olin returned and slid two candy bars in front of Jett. He opened one and bit off half the bar.

His lack of a reaction over what she'd told him confused her more. Two years ago, he wanted her to tell him why she needed to run away. She finally gave him the answers, and he acted like she'd discussed the weather.

Jett looked at Olin. "Ashley still around?"

"Nah, man." Olin opened a bag of chips and popped a Dorito into his mouth. "She's moved on, and I decided one woman isn't enough."

"Bullshit." Jett narrowed his gaze. "Ashley will never move on."

Olin shrugged. "She's got some fucked up ideas."

He couldn't imagine Ashley involved with anyone else but Olin. If he had to guess, it was his brother who was trying to push Ashley into doing something she wasn't comfortable doing. His brother was a risk taker. Half the time, he let his mood dictate his next step.

"How's Mom?" asked Jett.

"She's got a boyfriend. Nobody from Brikken." Olin shrugged. "He sells homeowners insurance. His name's Bob, if that wasn't bad enough."

"Is he good to her?"

Olin nodded. "She's happy."

Jett finished his candy bar. "Anything else?"

"Not anything new." Olin pointed at the table. "Better eat the other candy bar. Chief's orders."

Chief wanted Jett to eat candy? She looked between the two men. They'd both locked her out of a conversation that made no sense to her.

She took the time to study Jett more. He winced when he lifted his right arm, and his knuckles were all battered with little red cuts. She raised her gaze. If she shut out the noise and watched his mouth while he chewed, she could believe he was talking to her.

"Missed you, Syd."

"Wait for me."

"I am so glad to see your beautiful face."

"Syd?"

She sighed, loving the sound of his voice.

"Sydney."

Snapped out of creating the perfect reunion, she sat straighter. "Yes?"

"Did you hear? I want you to stay at the house," said Jett.

Excited that he'd allow her in his home, she nodded. "I was going to ask you if Kylie can move in with me. It won't be right away. She has to graduate in June, so almost nine months. But, she'll have to move out of her foster parents' house at that time and wants to be with me."

"I'm not talking about your sister today." He scooted his chair back at the announcement that visiting hour was over.

She stood. "Can I come back and see you?"

He scratched his jaw through his thick beard. "Someone will let you know."

Jett stepped to the side of the table, embraced Olin, slapping him on the back, and whispered something she couldn't overhear. She fiddled with the hole on the back pocket of her jeans.

The moment Olin stepped back, she stepped forward. Her heart raced, wanting to touch him, to feel his big arms around her. It was the closest she'd been to him in two years, and it was so different, so exciting, so scary.

"Jett," she whispered, looking up at him, silently begging him to wrap her in his arms.

He continued gazing over her head, lifted his chin to Olin, then turned and walked away leaving her standing there. She stared at his back as he lined up beside the door, willing him to look at her.

If there was a purpose to him ignoring her, she wanted to know the reason. Hearing other people in the room sniffling and openly crying, her throat spasmed. She understood the heartbreak sweeping across the room they were all going through and refused to let her feelings show.

The door opened.

The prisoners left the room.

The door shut.

She waited, hoping Jett would come back into the room and explain what was going on. Olin touched her back. She jolted, glanced at him motioning to leave, and followed him out, hopeless over Jett's rejection.

He'd been the one man she wanted to believe in.