Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
In these sessions, most the guys don’t say much, and I’m normally that way too, but today is different. If this is my only chance to talk to Emily, then I’m going to have to find a way to do it now.
“Jack, do you have anything you want to say?”
Emily is the only one that can get away calling me by that name. To everyone else, I go by my last name, Felon.
I clench my fists together in my lap and look directly at her. “Yeah, I’ve got a few things to say.”
She tenses ever so slightly, and I’m sure she’s worried about what I’m going to say. Does she think I’m going to announce my attraction to her, right here in front of everyone? Hell, she may not know it, but every man in this prison, including the guards, knows she’s mine. This is why she’s been protected and no one will touch her. They won’t go against me or my club, the Exiled Guardians. But I’m still worried about what may happen when I’m out beyond these walls.
She clears her throat. “Go on.”
I nod and stand up. “I get out tomorrow, and even though I’m leaving here, I still have eyes on the inside. If anyone in here thinks they can take what’s mine… put their hands on what is mine, well, then they have another think coming.” I look around the room, making sure that I have everyone’s attention. “Do not cross me. Do not cross my club. Do not touch what’s mine.”
Everyone is nodding their heads because they know I’m not lying. Only a dumbass would cross me, unfortunately there are probably a few of them in this room or in this prison right now. I sit down in my seat, and Emily nods her head before turning to the guy sitting next to me.
CHAPTER 2
EMILY
The guy sitting next to Jack drones on about the injustice of him being in prison. I really should be paying closer attention, but instead I’m focused on Jack.
He asked to talk to me after the session, and I told him no. Not because I’m scared of him but more like I’m scared of how I’ll react to being alone with him. I don’t trust myself not to touch him. Hell, I can totally see myself begging for his touch. I’ve never in my life been attracted to a man like I am to Jack. When I first saw him, it was his big shoulders, chiseled chin, and big blue eyes that drew me to him. I swear when he looks at me, I feel so much heat I’ve had to stop myself from fanning my face.
And that was at one glance.
When I got to know him through counseling, I started to fall for him. I shouldn’t have, and I know better, but it was inevitable. He’s irresistible.
He’s my complete opposite, but he calms me in ways I never saw coming.
Hell, he’s part of a motorcycle club. He’s in prison for killing a man and was sentenced to twenty years and he’s getting out after only serving one. I’m sure there were strings pulled, but they are saying he’s getting out on some technicality.
The sad part about this is, I don’t think he wants out. I think he was content being in here and now that he’s about to get out, there’s a restlessness to him that he can’t seem to get a hold of. Which sort of explains the speech he just gave.
It worries me some because I can see him doing something to be able to stay in here, and that would be the worst thing for him. He needs to take his freedom and run.
As the guys continue talking, I look at Jack. He’s staring straight at me, and I don’t have to wonder if everything he said about claiming what’s his was about me. I’ve known since the first words we exchanged that I was his. We may never act on it, and we may never do more than talk, but I feel as if I’m his. It’s like I belong with him, and the thought should freak me out, but it doesn’t.
I stand up from behind my desk and move across the room. Every eye in the room is on me. Charles is talking about how his ex-wife won’t bring his kid to see him, and I search my brain. When he pauses, I ask him, “Your daughter is thirteen, right?”
He nods, and I give him a look of understanding. “I understand you want to see your daughter, but have you tried reaching out to her? Maybe write her a letter and let her know you love her and are thinking of her.”
One of the other guys jumps in with a mocking laugh. “Charles can’t write.”
A few of the others snicker, and I am about to take back control of the session when Jack chimes in. “I’ll help you write it tonight.”