I tried to keep the tears at bay. Romeo had warned me Ham was going to try and force me to leave. He also encouraged me to just talk to him, to hear him out, and try to keep a level head.

I tried.

I failed.

I lost my shit.

Instead, when I didn’t get the reaction I wanted, I’d resorted to whatever words I could think of that would cause the most pain. And the moment I said them, I knew I was going to regret them.

“Are you okay?”

I spun around, realizing I was still standing in the middle of a county jail. The guard who had lead me out of the room when Ham looked like he was about to lose his shit, was looking at me with a worried expression.

I felt a shudder run through me. I wanted to get out of there, but I also wanted to walk right back in and finish telling him everything I thought of him, but in a way that wasn’t so fucking bratty and immature. That wasn’t me, but my emotions were all over the damn place. No one prepared me for what I would see when I got in there.

The state he was in.

The pain he was in.

I instantly felt protective, like I was going to stand up and demand answers.

But it was obvious when I spoke he didn’t want to see me at all.

I cleared my throat, trying to fight back the burn of tears. “Yeah. I’m fine, I just want to get out of here.” I turned and made for the counter where an old woman sat. She’d taken my belongings when I’d arrived, and I promptly asked for them back, tapping my foot on the concrete floor.

With each minute that passed and the old lady shuffled back to gather the tray with my belongings—obviously not in a hurry, I felt the guilt begin to get the better of me, my eyes drifting between the exit and the door the visitor’s room.

“I don’t want to speak out of turn…” the guard started again as I loaded my things into my handbag and hooked it over my shoulder, “… but I’d feel like an asshole letting you leave while you’re shaking like that.” I was shaking? “I’d really like it if you came and took a seat first, maybe had a cup of coffee or tea?”

I looked up at him with a frown.

He was the guard who’d come over and warned me about touching Ham, threatening to strip search me. As if he could read my mind, his hands went up in the air, and he smiled, looking like he was almost embarrassed. “I’m sorry for being so sharp with you in there. You’d be surprised at how many girlfriends come in and manage to hand their boyfriend’s drugs or weapons with just one touch,” he explained. “I’ve lost more than my fair share of inmates and seen my work colleagues injured pretty bad due to not being more careful.”

I heard what he was saying, but it was like the tone of his voice was too slimy and greasy. It was as if he’d spent too much time practicing his lines to feed people. He was too smooth. I didn’t trust him for a second, and my gut told me to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I asserted with surprising confidence as I made my way toward the door. I stood there for a moment, the camera above me buzzing before the metal locks on the door creaked and I pushed it open.

“That was convincing,” the guard teased, following me out, slipping through the door just before it closed.

“I thought it was.”

“It wasn’t.”

I wanted to get the hell out of there, away from this place, away from Ham and away from this dumbass who somehow has made it his duty to try and what? Charm me maybe? Show me there’s something better on the other side?

I made it to the front door, tearing it open and stepping out into the fresh air, inhaling deeply and trying to calm the raging bitch inside of me before I spun around and hit the guard with a glare. “I’m sorry, do you chase down all your visitors and try and force them to have coffee with you?”

The caring and playful persona he was forcing fell for a second, his lips pursing in agitation, telling me one thing—he didn’t give a shit. This was purely a play, and with the condition that Ham was in, the bruises, the split lip, how he looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks I could only imagine how they were treating him.

And how they would love another layer, another way to drive him inside.

Me.

As much as I wanted to punch Ham in the face, the state he was in almost brought me to tears. I could play the tough girl to perfection, but when reality hit, it hurt to know that I wasn’t there to protect him. And there was no way in hell I was giving these bastards any more ammo to hurt him.

In a flash, the mask was back, a friendly smile on the guard's face. “My name is Kent, by the way.” Kent held out his hand. I tilted my head to the side just a little, examining him. My instant reaction was to step back and walk away, get the hell out of there. It wasn’t as though the club hated law enforcement completely. They had friends in the force, and the club had never tried to make me feel like police officers were the enemy. But it seemed like the last couple I’d met, they had this vibe that resonated off them. One that made me feel like I needed to prepare myself.

My hand unconsciously reached for my neck, drifting over the long but hardly visible scar that ran from just behind my ear, down my throat.

Since things with the sheriff, I was naturally suspicious of anyone honestly.

Kent seemed in control, just waiting for me to respond. But it was the twitch in his eye which told me my gut feeling about him was right. I needed to get the hell out of there.

I made a left, my car was parked just around the corner in the visitor’s parking lot. When I heard his heavy footsteps pounding the concrete behind me, I moved faster. He wasn’t going to hurt me. If he came at me, I was going to fight back. There was no way in hell I was going to let another power tripping asshole like him think they could use me. I was stronger than they knew.

Just before I could round the corner, his hand grabbed my elbow. “Meyah, look, I’m sorr—”

I didn’t second guess myself, I clenched my fist and took a deep breath. Hearing Romeo’s voice in my head from the boxing lesson he’d given me. “You need to move your body with the power shot. Twist your hips. Ankle lifting up. You need as much force coming through as possible.”

I turned, bringing my fist with me, trying to keep my feet planted and focused on bringing the force through my body. My back foot lifted, the power in my entire body moving up through my fist and connecting with his mouth.

It hurt.

But not as bad as when I’d hit Nick.

Kent stumbled back, but at least managed to stay on his feet. He groaned in pain, pressing his fingers to his mouth, his body growing bigger as it filled with rage. “You little bitc—”

“Leave the girl alone, Kent,” a deep voice warned, and my heart leaped up into my throat, almost choking me when I gasped in surprise. Optimus stepped out from behind the corner. His arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look worried. Actually, he seemed almost bored. Like it wasn’t strange for him to be just hanging about outside a jail.

It wasn’t very often Optimus was anything less than composed.

He had to be.

It was his job to keep everyone in the club levelheaded and safe.

Kent stopped, too, the look on his face instantly dropping into a dark frown. The mask was gone, finally. I knew there was something hiding beneath. He assumed I wouldn’t see it. That I was just some young girl he could manipulate by acting like he gave a shit after I fought with my boyfriend.

But he didn’t give a rat’s fucking ass.

Using the back of his hand, he wiped away the blood from his mouth and wiggled his jaw.

“Optimus,” Kent greeted as if he’d just sucked on a lemon, his body language tightening up and fire sparking in his eyes. “You know I could have princess here arrested for assault right now, don’t you?”

His eyes drifted over to me, and I stood a little straighter. “I wish you would,” I sneered. “I’ll be sure to give the police department a heads-up about how you treat your prisoners.”

Dark laughter dripped from his lips, and the smile that formed on his face made me shudder. “Your man in there, he cheated didn’t he.” I sucked in breath after breath, trying to keep each one slow and steady and not let him get to me. The moment he saw he’d rattled me, he won. “Let me guess, he cheated, you wanted to give him a second chance, but he realized he could do better.”

As his words hit me, one after another, like a shot straight to the chest, I told myself they weren’t true. I tried to force my head to rule this time, not to let my heart take over because if I did, it would hurt.

So fucking bad.

And I couldn’t let him hurt me.

I couldn’t let him go back in that place, go back to Ham and use my pain against him.

I knew he loved me.

At least, that’s what everyone kept telling me.

Like what he’d done was no big deal.

“Go to hell,” I sneered, not moving or backing down as Optimus took that as his cue and stepped in front of me.

“You’re lucky, Kent,” he started, his voice even but serious. A tone no one would dare argue with—if they were smart, that was. And I had my questions about ole Kent’s intelligence if he chose to mess with Ham and think he was getting away with it. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on in there. How you’re treating one of my men. How you’re desperate to break him. I just haven’t quite figured out why yet.”

Kent dabbed at his lip again with the back of his hand. “Don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” He chuckled as he took a step backward.

Optimus was on him, though, closing the space between them again. “Let me make this perfectly clear,” he growled. “I know everything there is to know about you. Every. Fucking. Thing. Don’t underestimate me and think I won’t use that information.”

Optimus was a lion—a predator.

Kent was a gazelle, and he was lucky the lion wasn’t hungry.

Yet.

I was pretty sure he’d make room if he really wanted to.

Kent backed away, practically frothing at the mouth in anger. He’d been outmaneuvered, outsmarted, and punched in the face by a teenage girl. He was going back inside to lick his wounds.

I hoped at least.

Like I said before, Kent didn’t seem to me like he was the brightest crayon in the box. Which could mean he was stupid enough not to know when to give up.

When the front door to the prison clicked closed, I finally turned to face my club president.

My club?

Was it really still my club?

Was I still an old lady?

I actually had no damn idea.

What I did know was that whether I was upset with them or whether I felt like Ham had stolen my heart and then stomped on it, I knew I would never turn my back on them. They were family. They were people I loved and cared for, and I would do whatever I had to in order to help or protect.

“How’s school?” Optimus asked casually like we weren’t standing outside a prison, and I hadn’t just punched a man of the law in the face.

I cleared my throat, feeling a little nervous. I liked Optimus. He was stern, but he was always fair and just, and never lost his shit or made a drama out of nothing. Plus, he was an amazing father. Not just with Harlyn, who could be a handful at the best of times, but with the twins, too. He did his part to help where he could, and he looked at each one of those kids and Chelsea with more love and pride that you could have ever imagined. I had a lot of respect for him as a president but also as a person.

“School is okay. Romeo told you I was here?” I asked, not bothering with the bullshit. He chuckled, and I fell into step with him as we walked around the corner and across the parking lot to my car. His bike was parked directly beside it, sitting proud and glistening in the autumn sun.

“Yeah, I wanted to catch you just in case you decided to make a run for it without saying goodbye.”

I cringed.

Ouch.

I couldn’t even call it a low blow because the thought had actually crossed my mind.

That’s what I would have done before. It was my go-to reaction. What I’d been taught to do whenever I ran into a problem that scared me, or one which I thought I couldn’t handle. It was what my mom had always encouraged me to do, including when shit had hit the fan with Ham, and I was desperate to just get the hell away.

My mom was onboard straight away.

She didn’t object.

She jumped at the chance to get me the hell away from the club.

If I’d gone to Uncle Leo instead, maybe things would have been different.

“I don’t say that with malice,” he added after a few tense seconds.

“This is such a mess,” I groaned, throwing my head back and allowing my body to slump.

“You have to stop running, Meyah,” Op ordered sternly. Reluctantly, I lowered my head and met his gaze, it was intense but warm and comforting. He made me feel safe like Uncle Leo, but it was different. I felt like I could talk to him without respect, and without emotions running too high and without risking losing someone who helped raise me, if I said something that was a little too close to the heart—or the truth.

I sighed. I fought the urge to make it heavy and dramatic like a tantrum-throwing teenager. Now wasn’t the time to immature. “I’m so confused, Op. I don’t know which way is up. Or down. I miss him. But at the same time, I want to ram my foot into his balls. I miss everyone at the club, but then I find out there was this big conspiracy going on behind my back. I fought too hard to get to a place where I actually respect myself and can be proud of who I am, to just pretend that this is all fine and fucking dandy.”

“Just because we didn’t tell you Ham was locked up, doesn’t mean that you are any less important to our family than he is.” I leaned back against my car and ran my fingers through my hair. The pull on my fingers sent a sharp pain through my fingers and down my arm, and I hissed, my body tensing. “Let me have a look,” Op ordered.

I sighed, holding out my hand and letting him take it. “It felt like I was back at school again. Like everyone was watching, knowing Ham had done something wrong, but still taking his side—just like they did with Nick.” I lifted my other hand and rubbed at the pain in my chest, hoping it would somehow disappear. “I don’t want to be that girl anymore, Op. The club made me feel so much stronger than I was back then because they had my back. But being away, I’ve had to have my own, and I refuse to go back to be whispered about and lied to. No, I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“And trust me when I say you don’t have to,” he said, dipping his head so he could look me in the eyes. “I know what it’s like to try and push away the people you care about, thinking that was the best way to keep them safe… even if it meant hurting them in the process. I know where his head is at because I’ve done the exact same thing. We would all rather have the people we loved alive and hating us with every part of their heart and soul, than hurt, or attacked… or killed.”

I didn’t know a lot about Op and Chelsea’s relationship, but I knew they had a difficult start.

I even knew that Chelsea had almost died after Op finally claimed her.

My nose wrinkled in confusion, and I shook my head. “What are you trying to say?” It was like he was giving me all the pieces, but I just couldn’t put them together. There was something he wasn’t telling me—something he couldn’t tell me. But he was trying to in a strange roundabout way. “You think he’s trying to protect me from something?”

God. It was something he’d do.

Because I knew him so well.

That was the thing. I did know him. Ham was loyal to a fault. He put time into the people he loved. He fought for them. He would die for them. He didn’t cheat. Or lie. Or steal.

So why would that suddenly change?

Unless it was simply the perfect opportunity to keep me away.

Op chuckled as he wiggled my fingers with not too much pain. “You think guards follow every pretty girl out of jail and offer to chat with them, help them out, support them in a time where their ‘loser’ boyfriends are incarcerated?”

Kent was creepy. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized there were other couples in that room, touching hands, hugging on arrival, but I reached out to him once, and Kent came down on me hard.

Because he was looking for an excuse to get close to me?

Or looking for an excuse to get at Ham?

I pushed away from the car and stood a little straighter. “What are they doing to him in there?” I demanded, my heart beginning to race.

Op met my eyes with an intensity which told me he was on to something, and that he was not fucking happy about it. “I can’t say much, Meyah, but these guys… they don’t like men convicted of killing an officer.”

“Ham didn’t kill him,” I protested, tugging my hand away from Op’s grasp and shaking my head in frustration. “Maybe they should know what their asshole sheriff was really like. Maybe they should see this.” I pointed sharply at the scar on my neck. One I would have permanently, despite Skins doing his best to minimize the scaring. It might fade, but it was never going to go away.

I started to pace back and forth, my shoes scraping against the asphalt.

“Suddenly, I wish I’d hit that asshole a lot harder.”

He reached over and grabbed his helmet off the front of his bike and placed it on his head, his hands fiddling with the straps. “Tell me, Meyah, if you had a do-over of that day where you thought you saw him and Jess. What would you do?”

I pursed my lips. Confused by the question but knowing the answer instantly.

I’d given up on being trampled and treated like trash.

I cleared my throat. “I’d politely slip between them and ask her to back off.”

Op raised his eyebrow. He knew I was giving him the PG version. I rolled my eyes and rotated my shoulders. “Okay, so I’d probably grab her by the hair and dump her outside on her ass. Happy?”

Optimus smirked. “Oh, there it is.”

My brow knotted together, and I stopped pacing, looking over my shoulder at him. “There what is?”

“The difference between an Old Lady and a scared teenage girl.” He climbed on his bike and started the engine.

“What? Because I would physically attack someone?” I called over the loud rumble.

“No! Because your first reaction was to fight for him… not run away,” he called back, revving his engine once before he flicked up his stand and nodded his head at me and pulled away.

I couldn’t help but just stare at his retreating figure.

Fuck.