Sydney nudged Kylie with her elbow and shared a grin outside the Brikken clubhouse. With only Stassi wanting to come play with them tonight, Johanna had retrieved her daughter after an hour and told them they could go home early.

That never happened on a Saturday night, unless the Brikken men were going on a ride the next day. No one mentioned the men leaving, but without Jett involved, she couldn't expect anyone to volunteer the information to her.

"Let's do something special." Kylie skipped ahead and walked backward in front of her. "Name one thing you want."

"Jett." She swung her purse over her shoulder.

Kylie groaned. "Not who...a thing. Something we can splurge on in celebration of your birthday last weekend."

Since getting permission to use Jett's truck whenever they wanted, Kylie used any excuse to go to the store. Not the nearest store, but the one at the bottom of The Hill, where her ex-boyfriend, Milo, worked stocking shelves while he waited to head off to college soon.

"Oh, let me think." She tapped her chin. "Root beer floats?"

"Perfect." Kylie danced into position beside her as they reached the truck. "I'll even use my money to buy you a travel mug for coffee since you wouldn't let me buy you a gift."

"You know how I feel about birthdays. It's like celebrating that I'm one year closer to death," she muttered opening the door.

"Would you stop that? You're twenty-one, not eighty-one." Kylie hurried around the truck and slid into the driver's seat.

She put her foot on the running board when she heard her name called. "Hang on a second."

Turning around, she covered the glare of the floodlight with her hand and peered around the yard of the clubhouse, spotting a woman waving her arm above her head. Not recognizing the voice, she stayed by the truck and waved back that she'd heard and would wait.

An older woman slowed as she came into view. "I have something for you."

Not recognizing the woman, she hesitantly became curious. "For me?"

"Yes." The woman stopped and inhaled deeply. "I’m sorry. I haven't introduced myself, and you're probably thinking I'm a crazy woman. I'm Karla."

"Hello," she mumbled.

Karla laughed at Sydney's confusion. "I'm Jett's mom."

"Oh." Sydney sagged in relief. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Syd—nevermind, you already know my name."

"Jett told me about you over the phone, and that's why I'm here." Karla smiled.

His mom was a beautiful woman. One of those women with gray hair that remained slim and classy while wearing Boho shirts and sandals with a pair of jeans that left people guessing their age.

"He wanted me to give you this." Karla held up a plastic Safeway bag. "It's for your birthday, though after finding out what he wanted me to do, I realize I've failed as a mother, and I hope when your next birthday comes around, he ups his game and gets you something...more special."

Curious, she took the bag and opened it up. Before she could see what was inside, coldness permeated the bag, freezing her hands. Recognizing the frozen bags of sugar snap peas, she laughed.

"He remembered." She pulled one out and showed Kylie in the truck, making her laugh, too. "Thank you so much for doing this for him. He knows these are my favorite things to eat. He doesn't agree with my taste in food, but yeah...this makes me really happy."

"I'm glad." Karla stepped back and smiled. "I'll let you two get on with your night. I'm going to say hi to whoever is inside the clubhouse and then head home myself. I just wanted to make sure I got that to you before you left."

"Thank you again, and it was nice to meet you." She climbed up into the truck.

Karla waved. "We'll see each other again. I'm sure of it."

Encased in happiness, she set the unwrapped present on the bench seat and buckled herself in. More than anything, Jett remembering her favorite food showed he'd been paying attention all those years ago.

A quick stop at the gate and Kylie drove away from Brikken property. Sydney turned on the radio. "Let's go to the store."

She wasn't the only one who deserved to be happy. Milo and Kylie's relationship was sweet. They both liked each other but realized they had different goals at the moment. As someone watching from the outside, she couldn't help but compare their relationship with her and Jett. She'd never set out to fall in love with an older man, but now that she had, she wouldn't trade Jett for the world.

Behind them, two bikers followed them. The noise from their engines was louder than the truck on the county road. Sydney couldn't contain her smile, and their escorts couldn't sour her mood.

***

"STANTON?" OLSON RATTLED the bars. "Soon that cell won't protect you."

Jett latched his hands behind his head, laying on the cot. Only a cinderblock wall separated Olson from him. In his head, he went over his motorcycle. Each part, each bolt, each chain link, trying to focus on something else besides Olson's endless taunts. He couldn't count how many times he'd torn apart his Harley and put it back together again without touching the bike.

"Count your days, man." Olson laughed. "Jersey says...you remember Jersey, right?"

Jett's forehead throbbed, and he sat up on the cot, putting his feet on his prison-issued slippers. Bitch whipping the man with a homemade chain in the yard made Jett remember the damage he'd done.

"He's out there. Probably sampling your girls," said Olson.

Ignore him. Push it away. Shit talk. Don't mean nothing. He rubbed his hands over his head, sweeping his hair back.

"Damn pretty things." Olson chuckled. "Never thought you'd have daughters that fucking fresh."

Sydney and Kylie. Word had gotten back about their visit with him and made the rounds. He fisted his hands, trying to release the tension battling inside of him. Olson thought they were his daughters.

To correct Olson would only show his weakness. He stepped over and flushed the toilet, drowning out the other man's taunts.

But, he couldn't keep flushing. Olson would realize that he'd found a rip in the barrier Jett put up. He had to remain strong.

"Jersey's probably found your girls by now." Olson laughed. "What's one more rape, huh? Motherfucker likes them young."

Jett ground his teeth together. He walked to the farthest corner of the cell. An area he stayed out of because his last cellmate used the corner as a urinal.

"Man, I'd like to see that fucker sink into your girl. Bet she's got a nice, wet, tight, box."

Jett's neck stiffened, and he shook his arms at his sides.

"Word is he's already there, knocking on the door." Olson paused. "Out there on Turbeck Road..."

Jett lunged toward the bars and pressed his body against the iron rods at hearing the location of his house. He stretched his arm as far as he could, reaching for Olson. Rage blurred his vision. He roared, wildly trying to grab Olson through the bars so he could snap his fucking arm off.

"Lost it there, man. Jersey's probably popping their cherries. Man, I would love to feel their sweet pussies covering me. Riding me up and down."

Jett pulled his arm back in the cell and punched the cement wall. Over and over to the cackle of Olson describing what Jersey was doing to Sydney until there was nothing left of his hand but a hanging bloody mess.

Stumbling, he fell against the cot. Reaching under the mat they called a mattress, he searched for the rip and shoved his uninjured hand inside and removed the hidden cell phone. He went to the corner, stood over the toilet, and called Chief.

"Son?"

"Get the girls," he whispered hoarsely. "Get the fuck over to the house and take them to the clubhouse. Put them on lockdown."

Chief talked on a different phone, issuing orders, and came back to Jett. "What are we heading into?"

"Jersey and fuck knows how many others," he answered.

"Jersey? From Sparrows?"

"Yeah. Fuck." He squeezed his eyes against the sweat running into his eyes. "Don't let anything happen to them, Chief. Promise me, don't let them be touched."

"Leaving now." Chief's harsh breathing came over the phone. "Son? Watch your fucking back."

He disconnected, his vision narrowing. With limited ability, it took him longer to disassemble the throwaway phone with one hand. He flushed the pieces down the toilet. Dizzy, he aimed for the cot and collapsed.

For the first time, he hoped the guards made their rounds soon before he lost too much fucking blood.