“You don’t have to worry about that.” No one had ever been as gentle or kind to me as Roman.

  “Go on.” Dex waved his hand toward the stairs. “Get some rest. I’ll be here. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

  My heart melted and I rushed over to hug him. “Thank you,” I whispered against his chest.

  He held me tight for a few seconds. “You don’t have to thank me, Juliet. I shoulda been looking out for you better all these years,” he rasped.

  “You did when you could. I’ve always been happy to see you.”

  “I know, peanut.” He patted my back.

  I pulled away and glanced at the couch. “You don’t have to sleep there. There’s an extra bedroom upstairs.”

  “I’ll be fine here.” He stepped back and his lips quirked. “I wasn’t kidding about wanting to have a word with your man when he gets in.”

  A short burst of laughter escaped me. “Okay. Okay. Have your manly chat.”

  Feeling reassured by Dex’s presence and his confidence that everything was fine, I hurried upstairs and got ready for bed.

  Before the sun kissed the sky, my phone buzzed. I groaned and reached for my nightstand, accidentally knocking the phone on the floor.

  “Damn.” Fully awake, I opened my eyes and leaned over the side of the bed and scooped it up, hurrying to answer before the call went to voicemail.

  “Hello?”

  A robotic voice answered. “You have a collect call from Ironworks County Jail. Will you accept the charges?”

  My stomach chilled. “Yes, I’ll accept,” I said.

  “Juliet?” Roman’s hoarse voice squeezed my heart.

  “Roman.” My body jerked upright. “Thank God. What happened? Why are you in jail?” I couldn’t help the rising hysteria in my voice. This had to be a mistake.

  Angry, rage-filled tears blurred my vision as he gave me vague details.

  Fearing our time was running out, I cut him off. “I’ll gather money and post bail. Do you know how much—”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “This is bad, Juliet. I don’t want you involved.” He paused and I strained for sounds he was still on the phone with me. “Finish school and…stay away, Juliet.”

  His words eviscerated me. “Stay away? Roman—”

  “I love you. But obviously, I’m no good for you.”

  “No good for me? Roman, stop.”

  “I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

  “We take care of each—”

  The line went dead.

  My bleeding heart leaked out on the floor along with my will to exist.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Roman

  Cocaine. A lot of it. That’s what the Wolf Knights were so desperate to retrieve from the Vipers’ clubhouse.

  They got out of Ironworks with most of it. While I got left holding the one cannister.

  It still contained enough to put me away for a long time.

  I’d gone and fulfilled the prophecies of everyone I’d ever known. Except Juliet. For some reason she saw something good in me. She was wrong. And that’s why I told her to stay away. I wouldn’t have her put her life on hold. Visiting me in prison once a month. Hoping one day I might be free. No way. She didn’t deserve that kind of life.

  No matter how hard the cops tried to break me, I wouldn’t give up Ulfric and the others. Cops asked me about other crimes I might have witnessed—even the guy Dex had beaten the shit out of last year. That one got an eyebrow raise out of me. But still, I stayed silent.

  So many different cops asked so many different questions, I started to wonder if the Wolf Knights had set it up as some sort of fucked-up loyalty test.

  Finally, I was tossed in a cell.

  Exhausted, I thanked whatever higher power had placed me by myself. I climbed into the bottom bunk and stretched out on the blanket, feeling the metal coils beneath the mattress poke into my ribs.

  County jail was considerably nicer than the Castle, so that was a bonus.

  I’d need to keep to myself and watch my back harder than ever in here, though.

  Days dragged on forever. At least at the Castle, they’d pretended to have some activities that would keep us entertained. Chores to do. This was relentless boredom. On the plus side, so far, I hadn’t been thrown into any gladiator rings and told to fight for my life.

  “Hawkins,” someone shouted.

  I blinked awake.

  “Hawkins!” the CO shouted over the din of the Ironworks County Jail. He banged a metal rod against the bars. “Let’s go! Your lawyer’s here to see you.”

  I yawned and stretched. My overly eager, recently graduated public defender never had any good news. I wasn’t even sure he’d passed the bar yet.

  I was royally fucked.

  I shuffled into the interview room and stared at a man I didn’t recognize. Now he looked like a criminal defense attorney. Sharp and a shade slimy. Turning to the guard, I shook my head. “He’s not my lawyer. There’s been a mistake.”

  “Barry Hansen.” The man stepped forward and offered his hand. “I was hired by a friend of yours to represent you, Mr. Hawkins.”

  “Juliet?” Damn her, I told her to forget about me. No matter how you looked at it, I was facing a long prison sentence. There was no point in her wasting money hiring an expensive lawyer for my hopeless case.

  “No.” He flashed a warm smile. “A family friend who prefers to be anonymous.”

  Had to be Dex or Ulfric. They probably wanted to make sure I’d keep my mouth shut. And if the lawyer sensed I was about to snitch, I bet he’d report back to whoever was paying his bills. One day I’d be headed to the dining area, and someone would shove a makeshift knife made from a toothbrush and razor blade between my ribs.

  “Okay.” I studied him while I slowly took a seat. The guard left us to talk in private, closing the door behind him.

  “I have a meeting with the district attorney on Monday,” Mr. Hansen said. “From what I’ve been hearing, they’re willing to offer a plea deal.”

  “What do I have to do in exchange?” I asked warily.

  “They might want you to tell them who else you—”

  “No.”

  His mouth twitched and he scribbled down a few notes. “Let me talk to him first before we make any decisions. You’re a young man, Roman. You’ve got options.”

  “Snitching isn’t one of those options.”

  I might as well hang myself with my bedsheets now if I planned to snitch.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Roman

  A week later I was cuffed and shackled, tossed into an Ironworks County Correctional van, and driven to the County Courthouse for a meeting with my attorney.

  The guards brought me in through a back entrance. I kept my gaze glued to my feet. Not out of shame. The shackles hurt like fuck, messed with my balance, and dug into my ankle bones with every shuffle.

  Mr. Hansen was waiting in a small room and stood when I entered. The guards uncuffed my wrists, unshackled my feet, and shoved me into a chair.

  “What’s going on, Mr. Hansen?” I asked after he shook my hand.

  A brief smile flitted over his face. “You can call me Barry. I’m not sure how or why, but the DA is dropping the charges.” He frowned and studied the folder in front of him.

  Cops had a solid case. Caught me red-handed. I understood Barry’s confusion.

  I clenched a mental fist around any hope threatening to materialize in my chest. No point getting excited. I wouldn’t believe it until I was a free man. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what I was told.” Another wrinkle formed between his brows. “It’s unusual for the district attorney himself to handle a case like this.”

  I didn’t know anything about how that worked, but I’d take his word for it.

  “There has been minimal media attention and Tony’s already got the next election locked down,” he muttered to himself.

  None of that mattered to me. I just needed my freedom. I had to see Juliet. Never expecting to be released, I’d cut her off. Refused her visits. Ignored her letters.

  What if she’d moved on?

  She was stubborn, but I hadn’t answered any of her letters.

  Stupid. At the time, pushing her away seemed like the right thing to do.

  “All right.” Barry stood and motioned for me to do the same with a quick flick of his hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  I latched onto those words like a starving dog who’d been thrown a bone. The rest of Barry’s instructions were drowned out by impatience. If I was really getting out, I wanted out now.

  The guard returned to escort me into the courtroom. Apparently, Barry couldn’t be trusted to walk me ten feet.

  “Good morning, Tony,” Barry brushed by me and offered his hand to the other attorney. They made small talk while I dropped into my seat and stared straight ahead. I didn’t have any faith this was going to work out the way Barry said it would. Freedom would be dangled in front of my face and then yanked away. That was my curse.

  The judge took the bench and slammed his gavel down. “District Attorney Cain, I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence this morning,” the judge said with a wry twist of his mouth. He was either amused or annoyed with the DA, I couldn’t tell.

  As long as it didn’t delay my release, I didn’t care.

  The DA stood and buttoned the top button of his suit jacket. His whole demeanor dripped with arrogance, but my inner foster kid recognized the hard exterior it probably took him years to cultivate. He wasn’t some soft trust-fund kid kind of lawyer, who’d lucked into his position using his family’s connections. No, he had the rough edges of someone who’d clawed his way to the top from the very bottom and had no intention of returning to his hellish roots. I could certainly relate to and respect that.

  “Your Honor, we’ve agreed to drop all charges against the defendant,” Mr. Cain said.

  “That’s it?” the judge prodded.

  My entire body tensed. Was it possible the judge wouldn’t allow my case to be dismissed? Could he do that? I leaned over to ask my lawyer, but he shook his head. The guy seemed almost as on edge as I was.

  “We’ve obtained new information that leads us to believe Mr. Hawkins was incorrectly identified as the suspect.”

  Incorrectly identified? Bet the cop who’d arrested me enjoyed having to change his story.

  All the reasons I should leave town as soon as I was set free started to stack up around me.

  “We’d like the case dismissed with prejudice,” my lawyer added.

  Tony cast a don't-get-carried-away look at our table.

  “Request granted.” The judge scribbled down some notes, then glared at the DA. “Next time maybe be more thorough in your investigation before turning a young man’s life upside down.”

  If the judge only knew this was one of many tornadoes that had upended my life over the years. Sure, it was more serious. My actual freedom was at stake, but it wasn’t really a surprise. The counselors, hell even teachers had joked my whole life about how foster care was just a stop on the way to prison.

  I didn’t want that to be my life, but somehow I wasn’t doing a stellar job at staying out of trouble.

  A few more things were said. I signed a stack of papers.

  “Ms. Kendall, come on up,” the judge barked. We must’ve been taking too long to vacate the table. I wanted to shout at the judge, “Trust me, I’m trying!” but managed to stay cool.

  A tall, pretty redhead pushed through the wooden gate. Her heels clicked softly over the wood floor as she approached the table and placed her briefcase on the chair the DA just vacated. There wasn’t much room between our two tables. Barry scooted over to her side with an eager expression stretched across his face.

  “Good to see you, Hope. Are you finally dabbling in criminal work?”

  “Gosh, no.” She laughed. “Although you make it look pretty easy.” She caught my eye and gave me a warm smile. “Congrats,” she whispered.

  I blinked and stared. She didn’t look at me like I was a criminal who’d gotten lucky. Maybe she hadn’t been a lawyer for long.

  “Come on.” The officer yanked me to my feet by my elbow.

  “I’ll be downstairs to talk to you in a minute,” Barry said over his shoulder.

  “Okay.”

  The woman peered around Barry and caught my eye again. “Good luck.”

  I nodded a thanks. Lady, you have no idea.

  As I shuffled my way downstairs, I felt like the luckiest bastard in the world to skip away from the charges. It seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime get-out-of-jail-free—literally—card had fallen in my lap.

  It wouldn’t happen twice. So, I needed to get my shit together and stay out of trouble for good.

  After more “processing,” I was finally free.

  How would I get home?

  An even better question—where was my home now?

  After telling Juliet to forget about me, I couldn’t show up on her doorstep, arms open wide and announce, “Honey, I’m home!”

  The answer to my problems waited outside in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette with three of his similarly leather-clad brothers.

  Motherfuckin’ Dex.

  Was his presence a good sign? Or did he and his MC brothers show up to silence me for good? To make sure I never told anyone what actually went down. Or were they here to protect me from Ulfric and the Wolf Knights MC? Or worse, the Vipers MC? I had, after all, been part of the shoot-out at their clubhouse. Jesus Christ, in one stupid night I managed to paint a target on my back for every motorcycle club in the area to shoot at.

  Nah, Dex didn’t like me enough to shield me from a rival club. Hell, maybe the Lost Kings were pissed I made them look bad or something.

  The possibilities made my head throb.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Roman

  Dex pulled me in for a hearty hug and slapped me on the back a few times.

  “Come on.” He lifted his chin. “Truck’s over there.”

  I said hello to the only other Lost King I recognized, Murphy. Dex introduced the other two as Bricks and Teller.

  Teller and Murphy took off on their bikes ahead of us, while Bricks got into the back seat of Dex’s truck. They insisted I take the front seat.

  An uneasy sensation rolled through my gut.

  Christ, they were probably taking me somewhere to blow my brains out and dump me in a shallow grave.

  I sat sideways to keep an eye on Bricks.

  Dex noticed my tense demeanor immediately. “Relax, kid. You did good. Fuckin’ proud of you for not breaking once.”

  “I still got picked up.”

  “Happens to the best of us,” Bricks assured me.

  “Point is,” Dex added, “you’re not a snitch. Ulfric sends his regards. He was impressed with how you handled yourself. Risked gettin’ shot to go back for him.”

  I couldn’t believe he was praising me for getting arrested. “The cops seized what I was carrying.”

  “Cost of doin’ business,” Bricks said. “Don’t sweat it.”

  “Speaking of.” Dex reached across and unlatched the glove box. He pulled out a thick yellow envelope and handed it to me. “Ulfric wanted me to give this to you. Your cut of the job.”

  As much as I wanted to play it cool and stuff the envelope in my pocket without taking a peek inside, I flicked the flap open and glanced at the thick stack of cash. A knot of tension inside my chest unraveled. At least if I couldn’t go back to Juliet’s, I’d have enough money to find a new place.

  “Seems like a lot,” I said.

  “They got most of their stash back thanks to your help. Wolf Knights honor their debts.”

  “And if he didn’t,” Bricks slapped Dex’s shoulder, “Dex woulda set him straight.”

  Uncomfortable talking about my arrest, I wanted to move on to more important topics. “You seen Juliet lately? She okay?” Does she hate me? Has she found someone else?

  He smirked and briefly slid his gaze my way. “You have one hell of a one-track mind, kid.”

  “Have you seen her or not?” I asked in a sharper tone.

  “Of course, I’ve been looking out for her. She’s madder than a wet kitten that you wouldn’t let her visit.”

  “I—”

  He held up a hand. “I get why you did it.”

  “Did you tell her I was getting out today?”

  “Wasn’t sure you’d actually be getting out today, so no.” He shrugged. “It’s up to you to fix things with her now.”

  “You think I can?”

  He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a second, like I was unraveling his last nerve. “You looking for my permission, Roman?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Dex glanced over. “Her graduation’s tomorrow.”

  Thank fuck. I got out in time. I was so damn proud of her. I may not have had the chance to walk the stage and have a diploma handed to me, but I wanted to see her do it more than anything.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, still not convinced he wasn’t planning to execute me.

  “You’ll see.”

  It’s not like I had any other pressing matters to attend to—like a job or school. So, I played along.

  He pulled in behind Crystal Ball, the strip club he worked at or managed or whatever.

  “If this is my surprise release party, you can drop me off somewhere else,” I said, jerking my chin toward the club. “I told you I’m not interested in this scene.”

  “Calm down, Saint Roman.” Dex chuckled. “I promise not to taint your virgin eyes.”

  “Ain’t nothing virgin about these eyes,” I muttered.

  He smacked me on the back of the head. “Don’t you talk about my niece like that.”

  Bricks reached over and punched Dex’s shoulder. “He didn’t say anything about her, dipshit.”