Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
She braced her hands on her thighs, holding herself up as I drove us both to the edge, then sent us crashing over together, her cries drowning out my groans as we came.
“Well,” she said afterward as she tried to hop her leg back into her pants and panties.
Her cheeks were flushed.
And her eyes were bright.
“Well what?” I asked, head cocked to the side.
“I wasn’t a criminal before,” she said, turning a mischievous smile at me. “But I officially am now.”
The giggle that burst out of her was contagious as I threw an arm over her shoulders, hauling her close, and pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Welcome to the club.”
Everleigh - 3 months
I knew he knew I was being a little shady the minute I slammed my laptop lid shut when he walked into the bedroom carrying us our morning cups of coffee.
Late morning.
We were up late.
Because the club was up late, partying. Riff and Raff were back in town. And as much as I adored them, I had to admit that the club was much rowdier when they were around.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Detroit asked, sitting at my feet, concern etched between his brows.
I exhaled hard, knowing it was probably time to tell him, but still feeling oddly protective about it.
“So, you know how I’ve been unemployed since the whole wrongfully arrested thing?” I asked.
I hadn’t gone back to the gym.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t even go back to workout, choosing instead to do Tai Chi with Coach instead of my usual pilates, and taking walks or runs with Detroit around Shady Valley. Sure, he had to go at about a third pace because he was much longer-legged than I was, but we both seemed to enjoy the activity.
I knew it was probably silly to be avoiding the place, especially given that Gray and Melissa were both in jail without bail, awaiting their trials. And Gav was back there.
But I just… I didn’t want to go back, either.
The gym job had just been that.
A job.
And I suddenly had my mind set on something else. Something more along the lines of a career.
I was feeling oddly protective of this new venture I’d been toying with and working toward, which was the only reason I hadn’t told Detroit yet.
“Baby, we talked about that. You don’t need to work,” he insisted. As he had several times before.
Like after my mom and sister visited, and we both agreed that it was probably better to let my apartment go now, since I was never there. And I didn’t have money to pay for it anymore, either.
Like when I’d felt weird asking him to pick me up anything at the store.
It wasn’t that I didn’t genuinely believe he wanted to take care of me. He did. I’d just always been very independent. It was… harder than I’d anticipated to not have an income.
“No, this is… different,” I said. “It’s just… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And I’ve been doing some talking with Della,” I added.
Actually, she’d been the one to suggest it. Since I didn’t even know this particular career path existed until she’d mentioned it.
Once she did, though, it was like someone set a fire up under me. Suddenly, I had this single-minded focus about looking into it, trying to plan it out, pinning quite a few hopes and dreams on it.
“Okay. Talking and thinking about what?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee to make this seem more casual, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
He’d confessed to me once, post sex, when we were all glowy and half-asleep, that some part of him was afraid that I would wake up one day and realize that this was all a giant mistake, that I shouldn’t be with an outlaw biker after all.
“About a, ah, new career path,” I said, voice weird and squeaky.
“Yeah?” he asked, brows shooting up. “What kind of career path?”
“A prison social worker,” I told him.
I knew he was surprised by the way his brows drew low for a second before he forced them straight again.
“I know. I know. I hated the two days I spent in county jail. But that is kind of the point, I guess. It made me realize how… not great the system is. I mean, I think everyone knows that the prison system in this country is really broken. But knowing that and seeing that are different things.
“Like, a county jail shouldn’t be so crowded that people are sleeping in bunks in the common area.”
“I agree,” he said, nodding.
“And I’ve been doing research. A quarter of the women in jails and prisons are in for drug offenses. Or property offenses, usually in conjunction with drug offenses.”
“That makes sense,” he agreed, nodding.
“And, unfortunately, it’s often that their men are arrested and locked up first. So the women being incarcerated means their families are torn apart. The kids go into foster care. And because they aren’t getting proper help while inside, or support to adjust to life outside again, they just keep reoffending, and the kids keep getting pulled into the system over and over.”