“Thanks, Doc.” Mickey stood and shook Doc’s hand. He hesitated, but then he went in for a big hug. “Thanks for fixing me.”
“Fixing you?” David laughed, hugging Mickey back. “You’re the one who sent me people to get fixed!”
“Nah, Doc. I meant…” Mickey tapped his head. “In here.”
“Ah.”
“Thanks for listening.”
“Take care of yourself, Mickey.” Doc smiled. “I don’t wanna see you back in here. If you can’t be good, be good at it, okay?”
Mickey flashed a sly smile. “I’ll do my best.”
Once Mickey was fully processed and released, he flipped off every guard he saw on his way out. It felt good to be back in his old clothes and to be rid of that awful prison uniform, but he hadn’t forgotten his plan. At the main gate, he turned right around and pulled his dick out, pissing all over the fence.
Satisfied, he zipped his pants up with a smug smile.
Mickey heard the roar of a familiar engine, and he looked up the road to see a 1972 Nova SS hauling ass toward him.
His lady was here, and Jules was behind the wheel.
Jules made the engine growl when he was in sight, grinning slyly as he parked in front of the gate and stepped out to greet Mickey.
“Hey, hey now. Be careful with my lady.” Mickey gave Jules a big hug, clapping him on the back.
“Hey, I brought her, didn’t I?” Jules protested. “Took real good care of her while you were in.”
“Keys,” Mickey demanded, holding out his hand.
“Fine.” Jules slapped them into Mickey’s waiting palm. “Party pooper.”
Mickey grinned and slid into the driver’s seat, stroking the wheel with a happy sigh.
Fuck, it was almost better than sex.
Almost.
“Buckle up.”
Jules strapped in beside him, and he cackled as Mickey took off like a maniac.
Mickey was too happy to put the prison behind him, and he had missed the deep purr of his beloved Nova.
“Just drop me off at my place,” Jules instructed.
“Still over on Breakaway Lane?”
“Yeah. Cold is throwing you a little party tonight at his house. Welcome home and all that shit.”
“Whole gang will be there, huh?”
“Including your boy Roger.”
Mickey drove a little faster and gritted his teeth. Roger’s photo was burning a hole in his pocket. He should have thrown it away. Maybe pissed on it like the damn gate. “Not mine anymore.”
“Like you two aren’t gonna fuck this out like you always do.”
“Fuck off.”
