She pulls back and stares into my eyes. “You’re right. We can’t do this.”
“Right now I’m thinkin’ maybe we can.”
“You’re a DK. That’s a deal breaker for me.”
“Ain’t saying you got to marry me and have my babies, Tess,” I argue, even as the thought of her holding a baby—my baby—flashes before my eyes.
To break the tension, she yanks on the door handle. “I have to use the restroom.”
I watch her climb from the truck and hurry away, like she can’t get far enough, fast enough.
I slam my hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck.”
When she comes back, I start the truck and back out without a word.
We’re quiet for the rest of the trip, each in our own heads.
An hour later I pull down the prison road. This—visiting a prison—is new for me, and it’s rattling my nerves in a way I hadn’t expected. It’s only by the grace of God that I haven’t been driven up here myself, riding in the back of a prison van in chains.
I feel my pulse elevate, and just looking at the place, I suddenly can’t breathe.
I pull to a spot and park, gathering myself, and then look over at her. She’s got more guts than I have, walkin’ in that place alone. I’ve never even liked visiting hospitals; I can’t imagine what this is like. “You gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. You can’t stay here. They don’t allow anyone to wait in the parking lot. You have to leave and come back.”
“What time?”
“Come back at ten. I don’t plan to stay long.” With that, she climbs out. I hit the button and roll her passenger window down.
“Hey,” I call as she starts to walk away.
She turns back and leans in the window. “Yeah?”
“Tell your old man to put me on his visitors list.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
I watch her walk away. The girl is gorgeous, and my eyes drop to watch the ends of her long locks sway above her fabulous ass. Even dressed conservatively, she’s still got the sexiest strut I’ve ever seen.
It’d be so easy to pick back up with her, but she comes with a whole lot of baggage—baggage that’s got MC Princess and Stay Away stamped all over it.
She’d be exactly the kind of trouble I don’t need.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tess—
Gypsy drives off. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his truck pull down the lane. I head inside, puzzled by what he just asked me to do. My mind is a whirl right now. That request threw me. My mother led me to believe the club basically wrote my father off. I can’t help wondering if Gypsy would tell my father anything he wants to know. Surely they can’t sit inside that room under the nose of the guards and talk club business. On the other hand, maybe that would get me off the hook. I’m not comfortable with trying to dig for information from Gypsy. As much as I don’t want anything to do with him—not really—I still feel bad that I’m basically using him.
The fire is still there; that much we proved.
I can’t let what happened at the rest stop happen again. I don’t know what came over me. When he admitted how attracted he was to me, how attracted he still is, I just got carried away. The things he admitted—how he’d searched for me, how he couldn’t get me out of his head—really got to me, and in the moment I acted rashly.
I never should have let him know I was still attracted to him. And above all else, I can’t ever let him know that the night we shared was the best I’ve ever had.
I walk inside and begin the ritual of security hoops I have to jump through before I can be admitted in to visit my father.
Twenty-three minutes later, I’m sitting at a table waiting with the requested beef jerky and two Mountain Dews. I even throw in a bag of cheese curls.
My father is the second one brought in. His step is a little lighter when he walks toward my table this time.
He’s reaching for one of the cans before his ass hits the chair. He pops the top and guzzles a good portion, then looks at me. “Well?”
“Gypsy drove me here.”
“Good, and?”
I lift my chin and raise a brow for effect. “He wants you to put him on the visitors list.
My father doesn’t say anything at first but reaches for the jerky and tears off a bite. He smiles as he chews it, and then nods. “You did good. What about that trip?”
I know he’s referring to information on the club’s Sturgis run. “I haven’t had enough time.”
He nods. “The prison has forms Gypsy will have to fill out. They’ll do background, but if I recall correctly, he’s never been convicted of anything. Roll of the dice, really, if they allow him in. But if they do, that would work to my advantage.”
“Then you could ask him all this stuff yourself.”
He focuses his piercing gaze on me. “Still want you diggin’ to see what you can find out.”
I sigh.
He eats some more jerky, then scans the room and asks, “How’s your mother?”
“Worried about you. Smoking too much. Not eating.”
“I wrote her a letter. Mailed it yesterday. No clue how long it takes to get through this joint and on its way to her.”
“I’ll tell her. She’ll be standing by the mailbox every day waiting for it, so I hope you’re not bullshitting me.”
“I’m not.”
“You could call her, you know.”
He curls up his lips. “Nah.”
“Why don’t you put her back on the list?”
He stares at me then. “You do well, maybe I will.”
I get the feeling he’s stringing me along. For my mother’s sake, I hope not.
An hour later I walk into the bright sunshine and drag in a deep breath of fresh air, glad to be outside again. I spot Gypsy’s truck just coming up the drive. He pulls to the curb, and I climb in, slamming the door.
“How’d it go?”
“Let’s get out of here,” I say, not answering his question.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I turn to him. “Have you ever been in prison?”
“Nope.”
“Ever visited someone inside?”
“Nope.”
“It’s a horrible place.”
He nods, the expression on his face saying he’s not sure how to make any of this easier for me.
“He wants me to come back next week.”
Gypsy looks out the window then at me. “How many times you plan on visiting?”
“You think I want to come back?” I snap, my nerves shot. I’m a nervous wreck the entire time I’m locked inside that place, and I know it will take hours to shake the effect it has on me.
“If you don’t want to do this, then don’t.”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
I stay quiet. How do I explain it? I feel dead inside.
He blows out a breath. “You hungry? Let’s get something to eat. I found a place a couple blocks from the riverfront.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer, just starts driving, taking control, and I let him. I’m like a walking zombie, numb to everything.