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He adds an obnoxious grin and a wink that pulls a smile out of her.

Fucker.

Her steps are slow, torturously slow, but sure as she walks up the sidewalk towards the house that has been a torture chamber, a jail cell and a living hell for her and her son over the past four years. The boy is a little more eager than his mom, walking ahead of her and Jumper, tugging on her hand in her determination to get back to his room full of toys. All I can do is hold my breath as I watch her. Hold my breath and pray to a God I don’t believe in that she won’t turn back this time, won’t give into the fear that sends her back into the arms of a monster anytime she tries to run.

Once they reach the top of the porch steps, I feel a little of the tension seep out of my shoulders and I release a breath, nodding. She’s going to do it this time. The three of them finally step into the house together and my entire body sags back against the truck as I finally take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair.

“Fuck,” Gear whispers next to me and I glance over at him as he shakes his head. “I was stressed that we were going to have to leave her again.”

I scoff. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“What are you going to do?” He arches a brow, crossing his arms over his chest as he challenges me with a look. “Throw her over your shoulder and kidnap her?”

“If that’s what it took,” I answer, feeling the truth of every single word in my bones. Gear barks out a humorless laugh as he leans back against the truck next to me.

“God, you’re such a fucking asshole.”

Asshole.

Since the moment I left home at fifteen, that damn word has followed me around like a shadow. It’s attached to me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake. Folks mumble it under their breath or behind my back where they think I can’t hear them but that word… I can pick it up from across a crowded bar like someone just whispered it in my ear. Some use it to excuse away my bad attitude and lack of give a fuck while others wield it like a dagger, hoping to inflict maximum damage with the insult.

When I was younger, the arrow hit its mark every single time, sending me into a blind rage that could have scorched the earth around me. It is the kind of anger that, if left to fester, would consume a man’s soul and there was never any reprieve from the effect it had on me. I’ve spent my entire life in a constant state of anger, lashing out at anyone or anything to release the rage that felt like it was eating away at pieces of me every moment of every day.

By the time I started prospecting for the Bayou Devils MC five years ago, I was out of control and on the verge on ending up in jail for the rest of my life or six feet under myself. The anger would have devoured me, burned me alive and destroyed any semblance of a life that I had at the time. My brothers recognized the chaos raging inside me. They saw the way I clung to anarchy like a blanket, wrapping myself up in it because it was familiar and that illusion of control is what made me feel safe. It’s such a laughable thought now because nothing about my life back then was safe. Not for a single fucking moment in any given day did I have the security I have now. Honestly, I’m not even sure how I survived as long as I did. It was a miracle and I have no doubt that it’s the only one I’ll be granted in this life.

This club and my brothers also gave me a way to refocus the rage burning inside me and a new purpose – something worthwhile I could do with all the shit I’ve been dragging along behind me for years. And when that didn’t work anymore, they shoved me in a gym and made me hit a bag until I was too tired to even stand on my own.

So, these days, I wear that word like a badge of honor. Pin it on my chest for the whole damn world to see because the truth is, I am an asshole. But I’m an asshole for good now… or whatever. And Jumper and Gear, as two of my best friends, know that better than anyone else.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I answer with a shrug. “And if me being as asshole keeps her alive, you know I’m good with that.”

Jumper steps out of the front door of the house, drawing our attention up to him as he strolls down the steps and rubs his stomach. “Fuck. I’m starving. Y’all want to grab some grub after we get these two back to the compound?”

“What the hell are you doing out here?” I push off the truck, leveling a glare at him. “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”

“Said she was good as soon as we got inside,” he answers with a shrug and I growl as I resist the urge to throw my fist into his face. Why the fuck is he so cavalier about this?

“Never mind,” I hiss, pushing past him. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“Brother, I need you to fucking chill,” Gear says, stepping in front of me and placing his hand on my chest. It’s a dangerous move. He knows how volatile my temper can be and he’s seen what I do to my opponents in the ring. The fact that I give a shit about these fuckers is the only thing that stops me from letting the monster loose. “Jumper checked the house. It was clear so Raya and Joey are safe.”

“Yeah, Roost,” Jumper adds, leaning against the truck as he tucks a cigarette between his lips. “I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

My head whips in his direction and I narrow my eyes into a glare. “Since when?”

“Oh, fuck off, asshole. You don’t have to control every single minute of every goddamn day. The world isn’t gonna fall apart just ‘cause you take a fucking breath.”

Shaking my head, I ignore both of them as I stare up at the house. I could push past Gear. I could take both down without breaking much of a sweat but they are my brothers and despite how much they like to piss me off, that means something to me. Besides, I know they mean well. I’m just not willing to let this day end any other way than what we planned. If that means I have to supervise every aspect of it to make sure things go off without a hitch, so be it. Meeting Gear’s gaze, I arch a brow and glance down at the hand still pressed to my chest and he hesitates for just a second before dropping it with a sigh.

“I’m going to go check on her.”

“Dude,” Jumper whines, drawing out the middle of the word as he takes the cigarette from his lips. “She’s fine. Derek is still in jail so she can handle packing her things without you hovering over her like the asshole you are.”

I ignore him, taking a step towards the house just as my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. Pausing, I yank it out and glance down at the screen.

Shit.

Streak, the club’s tech guy.