“This case is dismissed.”

The judge’s words echoed in my head even as the guards took me out the back of the courthouse so the paperwork could be done and my release could be finalized.

Just as Matt had explained, there was too much evidence which pointed to the fact that I wasn’t responsible for the sheriff’s death. There was too much shit indicating he was up in that cabin because he’d planned to blow it up.

He purchased the gas bottles.

He was found with the lighter in his hand.

He’d been alive and able to—from what the evidence said—make the decision to blow himself up.

This turned it from a homicide case to something completely different. And when you think they would have kept looking, searching for the guy who had been there with my gun—possibly to kill him, possibly not—the judge decided to close the case and deem it done.

This was courtesy of my little brother who had anonymously provided the court with information that proved the sheriff wasn’t exactly the lawman that everyone thought he was.

Oh, and if that hadn’t worked, there was a note added that if the case were to proceed, this information would be leaked to the media.

That was the thing about all these people who say they’re here to protect the people and uphold the law—for the most part, they will always protect their own people and their own asses first.

I sat in the holding cell out the back of the courthouse as they processed my shit and gathered my things. The clothes that the boys had dropped off for me to wear in court were baggy, and while I knew I’d lost weight, I hadn’t realized just how much. I guess that was what happened when the guards would give you your dinner, but ‘accidentally’ push it a little too hard through the cell door and send it flying across the floor. There were days where the only thing I had to eat was a sandwich at lunchtime or a couple pieces of toast.

The past two months had been hell.

I was weak, I was tired, and I just wanted to get the hell out of there, but I was suddenly feeling damn sick. Maybe it was because I knew I didn’t have to be strong anymore. I was getting out. I didn’t have to keep looking over my shoulder to see what these motherfuckers had up their sleeves to torture me with this time. As soon as I was released, my brothers would be there, and I could finally relax and just let them have my back.

That was what being the club was all about.

Having people there to watch over you when you weren’t strong enough to do it yourself. Knowing if I couldn’t fight back, they would fight for me.

I wasn’t alone.

“Get up, fucker,” Kent ordered from outside the holding cell.

I looked up, glaring at him from beneath my heavy brow.

I was tired. I was fucking done and over being treated like a piece of shit on the bottom of these assholes shoes. It was degrading, and it was fucking sickening to have to just take a beating and not even try to fight back. Especially, when I knew I could have killed this bastard with one hand behind my back if I’d tried.

Instead, I had to suck it up and let them hurt me because the second I struck one of them, they would have had me up on more charges, ones that would more than likely stick and have me doing real time.

The second I walked out of this courthouse and onto the street, though, these fuckers were fair game.

Two angry looking guards from the prison, guys I recognized that usually worked the same shifts as Kent, stepped up behind him. I sat up straighter, puffing out my chest. These guys weren’t going to intimidate me. Kent was scared, he knew the second I walked out those doors and told the club about my little holiday in hell, he would have a target on his back.

“You come to say goodbye?” I hissed, leaning back against the wall with a smile. “I know you’re gonna miss me, but you know what… I’m dying to come visit you when I get out of here.”

Kent’s lip twitched, and he gripped the keycard in his hand a little tighter. “This will catch up with you. You’re walking away now, but trust me, assholes like you get caught out eventually. You’re too fucking stupid.”

“I think you’ve been reading too many princess books, sir.” I stood, walking over to the cage door and grabbing the bars in my hands. “Reality ain’t like that. Because in the real world… sometimes the bad guys win.”

I saw the fire in his eyes, the way they burned as if he was hoping I’d suddenly go up in flames.

He was shit out of fucking luck.

I was here, I was walking out of this shit hole, and when the time came, I was gonna take back the sanity he’d stolen from me.

“How about you step out here and say that.” He lifted the baton in his hand and tapped it against the bars. “You think you’re so badass.”

“I suggest you step away from my client, Mr. Rufio,” Matt snapped as he stepped into the room. Matt may have been a lawyer, but he was also a hard fucking bastard and didn’t take shit from anyone. That’s why he was good, better than good, fucking great at what he did. “Scan the damn door and let him out. He’s done his time, and if you aren’t careful, I’ll be presenting the court with a list and evidence of the injuries my client sustained while he was here. And you’d be smart to remember I saw him once a week.”

I wanted to laugh at the mixture of fear and pure fucking hatred which spread across Kent’s face.

Matt wasn’t joking.

We had enough evidence to ruin this little shithead, but I’d told him to keep it to himself because I had other plans.

Kent scanned his keycard, and the loud beep sounded over our heads as the holding cell door unlocked. I pushed it open, and Kent and his buddies took a step back, their eyes never leaving mine. While I was pumped up on adrenaline, knowing I was about to get out of this hell hole and I’d gotten one up on this sneaky little fucker, I still felt somewhat weak and a bit wobbly on my feet.

Luckily, Matt quickly moved in beside me, his eyes carefully scanning me up and down until he raised a brow in silent question.

He was asking if I was okay.

Nope. I wasn’t.

“I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

We made our way back upstairs where I had to sign more papers and bullshit as Kent and his buddies watched over my shoulder.

The receptionist finally handed me my release forms. “There you go,” she said with a bright smile. “Have a nice day.”

I spun on my heel and snapped Kent and his buddies a salute. “Fuck you very much,” I exclaimed with a grin, holding up my middle finger proudly. Then I winked. “I hope to see you ‘round.”

“Not likely,” Kent threw back with a sneer.

I started walking toward the door, pausing with my hand on it and looking over my shoulder. “You’ll be surprised where I might show up.” Then I walked out, ready to get the fuck out of there, get back to the clubhouse and sleep for probably a week.

Then, once I was recovered, I needed to somehow get to fucking Arizona and bring my woman home. Because I hadn’t been convicted of anything, and technically, I was a free man. But just to be a bitch, the court and the lawyer working for the Sheriff’s Department had put in a clause whereby I needed to stay within Alabama for thirty days following the court date while they closed the case down. Just in case new evidence came to light.

Blizzard was outside the courthouse waiting for me as I walked down the steps beside Matt.

I patted him on the back as we made it to the truck where Blizz was waiting.

“Man, thanks for everything.”

Matt nodded. “No problem, it was worth it to see those bastards squirm.” He grinned devilishly taking a couple steps backward. “Oh, and tell Op my bill will be in the mail.”

Blizzard tapped the truck. “Come on, kid, everyone’s waiting to start drinking. And the kids are desperate to cut the cake.”

My face lit up, and I wiggled my eyebrows. “You got me cake?”

“Just get in,” Blizzard chuckled, walking around to the driver’s side.

Before he climbed in, I managed to find the balls to ask the question I really wanted to know. “Meyah gonna be there?”

He stilled, his hand on the door, and I knew by the look on his face exactly what the answer was.

“All right.”

We drove in silence from Huntsville back to Athens. I was exhausted, completely fucking shattered. My body ached, my mind was barely there, and I felt like there was a fucking hole in my chest. And I didn’t give two shits whether that was a fucking pussy thing to say.

All I wanted was to go back to the clubhouse, have her there, take her to bed and just fucking hold her in my arms.

But that wasn’t going to fucking happen, and all I was going to be doing was to go to bed with bottle of fucking rum.