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“It was hard,” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I-we bounced around a lot. Some shelters only allowed you to stay so many days in a row so I tried to work that system for a while. Having a baby made things a little more complicated. He was born in Kansas City but the city was filled with crime. Some nights the shelter would fill up before I could get there so we had to stay on the streets.”

“What’d you do for money and food?” His voice is calm but the way his posture is, says he is anything but.

My chin drops down on my knees. “I stole it or when I was really hungry, I ate out of trashcans,” I admit. “Ryder, thank God, breastfed for almost a year so I was lucky that I didn’t need a lot for him. I just needed to keep myself hydrated as much as possible.”

There were a lot of nights I didn’t know how I was going to survive but somehow, I made it through. Being a teenager on the run with a newborn was so hard. I didn’t know the first thing about living in the world but thankfully Ryder and I came out on the other side.

“The lady who helped me get the fake ID and papers found me one night and told me about a church who would take in a few people and help get them on their feet. It took a few weeks but they made room for me at another location in Nebraska. They had me working at a mission center for people who were in need. They let me bring Ryder with me every day and gave me all new clothes and things that a baby might need. I learned a lot from those ladies on how to be a mom and care for a baby.”

Rhett tenses next to me.

“What was the church called?” he asks, his eyes widen slightly.

“Solid Rock Church, why?”

“Just wondering,” he says and I watch his tense muscles relax a fraction.

“I was there for almost a year when I learned that you were in the prison in Idaho,” I told him. “At the time I didn’t have the money or a car to travel there but I sent you dozens of letters.”

“I didn’t get any of those letters, Remi.” His voice full of remorse. After spending the last two days with Rhett, I can wholly say that if it were possible, he’d have moved heaven and earth to see us during those years.

“I know that now but at the time when some would come back unopened it was tough,” I reveal. “It wasn’t until about a year, or so, ago that we learned that I was filling out the envelopes wrong. Apparently, there are strict rules regarding sending inmates letters. Same goes with visitation.”

“I’d have never turned you away if you came see me,” he says, then reaches out and places his hand on the top of my foot closest to him. The warmth from his touch sends a wave of heat up through my body.

“Anyway,” I shake off those thoughts and feelings. “It was another year and a half when I was able to save up enough money for a car and could make it to Nebraska. When I got us to the edge of Idaho I panicked and thought that if I crossed over the state line into Idaho, that my uncle or grandparents would find me. Irrational, I know, but I didn’t want to take that chance so I found a small town in Utah and stayed there for a while. Found some work that took care of what we needed, and once I found the nerve to cross the state line and went to the prison, I was turned away. I wasn’t on an approved list or something. I was told to contact an attorney to make contact with you and get on the list. The situation was a nightmare because every legal office wanted to be paid to speak with them even before finding out what I was needing. I didn’t have the extra two to three hundred dollars to spend at the time just to ask some questions. So, I bounced around several jobs and when I finally got the money, I was told that you weren’t even in Idaho anymore. You’d been moved to Nevada.”

“They moved me six different times in the twelve years,” Rhett tells me, running his hand through his hair. “Overcrowding was the main reason.”

We talk a little bit more about me following him as best I could to the different states, but a burning question has me itching to know the answer.

“How did you get out so early, Rhett?” I ask. “Your sentence was twenty-five to life. Not that I’m unhappy or anything, I just thought it was impossible to be released so soon.”

“Dumb luck, maybe,” he says, stretching out his arm on the back of the couch and turning his body more towards me. “Got moved down to Arizona from here and made a few friends on the inside there. Met a buddy who knew someone that worked on inmates who were wrongfully imprisoned. Took a while but a group of college students helped work my case as a project over two semesters. They got it in front of a judge and she overturned my case.”

“And that’s how you met the club?”

“My cell mate, Blaze, is Stone’s brother. We had each other’s backs in there and became friends. He’d told me all about his family and the brotherhood of the club. When I got released, Blaze vouched for me to join the club and I haven’t looked back since I stepped out of that concrete box.”

“I’m so glad they freed you.” I feel a bubble clog in my throat. Tears well up in my eyes when I think about what he went through for twelve years, being punished for a crime he didn’t commit. “I’m so sorry you had to endure all that time…” My voice cracks and the first tear falls down my cheek. Rhett reaches over and scoops me up into his strong arms, placing me on his lap. My head settles on his shoulder as his tight embrace engulfs me.

“Shh, it’s fine, I’m okay.”

I pull my head back to look up at his face.

“Are you really? Is this really what you imagined your life turning into?” I ask. “Because I know I didn’t.”

“Can’t change what’s happened, and even if I could I’d do it all again if it meant saving your life,” he states. My heart sputters as his eyes lock in on mine.

He’s even more handsome than when we were teens. His jawline is sharp and more defined now. Those dark eyes still pierce through my soul as he looks me over. The five o’clock shadow fills in where it wasn’t able to grow back then. Rhett Miller is all man now.

His head leans down towards mine, ever so slowly, and I feel a rush of energy flood my body just thinking about him kissing me. In high school once his lips made contact with me, I lost all function of my senses. Rhett was a high I never wanted to come down from.

I lick my suddenly dry lips. His eyes flicker down at the movement, and I see a ravenous spark in them. This is a bad idea, a chant in the back of my mind begins to voice. As much as I’ve dreamed about this moment for years, a flash of caution waving a giant red flag with images of Ryder overtakes my thoughts. Everything I’ve done over the last fourteen years has been about what is best for him. His well-being and needs will always come before mine, and that includes making sure I don’t screw up with Rhett. The last thing I need right now is for our thirteen-year-old son waking up and finding his parents humping in the living room.

“Remi,” Rhett whispers my name and it sounds like a lullaby hypnotizing me as I was about to halt us from going any further. One of his hands reaches up and cups the side of my face, holding me in place.

My eyes flutter closed and the soft caress of his lips consumes me. I forget all about my reservations from just a second ago. I feel his tongue touch the seam of my lips and I open, giving him access. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as we make out on the couch in my living room. A moan slips free from my throat as Rhett deepens our kiss.