Doin' A Dime (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 4)

I nodded once.

“Will do.”

CHAPTER 6

You want to know what Texas Roadhouse and I have in common? Great rolls.

-Text from Wyett to Hunt

HUNT

Two weeks later

I was standing outside the gates of the prison, staring at the long road that was spread out in front of me.

I was in the middle of Bear Bottom, Texas and looking at it with all new eyes.

When I’d first arrived in this place, I’d wondered if it was as sucky as it’d appeared through the barred, indestructible glass that I’d peered through.

It wasn’t as bad as I’d pictured, though.

It didn’t look like the kind of town that would have a prison right smack dab in the middle of it.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text.

Meet me at these coordinates. -Hunt

That’d been sent over an hour ago, and she still wasn’t there.

I’d just about decided to call her when a familiar car wound its way down the long road that led up to the prison. My wife at the wheel of it.

When she came to a stop beside the tree that I was resting under, she stared at me warily.

I was still wearing the prison clothes that I’d been issued.

Why?

Because my other shit wouldn’t fit.

I’d tried to squeeze my thighs into the pants, but they wouldn’t even come up past my hips.

I’d, apparently, gained weight since I’d entered.

Which wasn’t very surprising.

It wasn’t like I had a lot to do while I was there.

So it was either work out and train, or sit there and be bored.

I’d chosen to work out and train.

Anything was better than allowing my brain to go completely idle.

“Am I now going to be an accomplice in a prison break?” she asked as she put the car into park and got out.

I looked over the top of her car at her.

“No,” I said simply. “As of an hour ago, I am now a free man.”

Her mouth fell open. “How?”

I gestured for the car and said, “Get in. I’ll tell you.”

After I told her everything, she stared at me thoughtfully.

“I’ve met Six’s man before,” she said. “I think he’s a pretty decent guy, but he’s kind of scary.”

I nodded once. “He is.”

In the confined space of the car, her sweet smell was driving me insane.

“Where do you want to go first?” she asked, her fingers drumming on the door handle where she was holding on so tight that her fingers were white. “Home? Food? Clothing store?”

I grinned. “Clothing store. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to go inside and grab me something that might fit. Sweats if you have to until I can go in and get my real size. Then I want the biggest Whataburger that’s ever been made.”

She turned her head and smiled at me, her fingers loosening their hold on the door. “I think we can accomplish that.”

I felt my heart drum in my chest at that smile.

The smile that I’d masturbated to for way too many years.

The smile that I would finally have a chance to see on a regular basis. To make this entire thing more than one-sided.

I put the car into gear and wished that she’d brought my car and not hers.

She hadn’t even asked if I wanted to drive, she just got in on the passenger side. And I was glad.

I really, really needed to feel the wind in my hair.

I needed to feel free.

Rolling down the windows to stave off the anxiety attack that I could feel coming, I blasted the air and then looked over at Wyett.

She was busy putting her hair that was down around her shoulders into a messy bun on the top of her head.

A messy bun that was perfect and didn’t have one single hair out of place.

“How do women do that?” I asked as I pulled off the side of the road and flipped a bitch.

Cars honked, and I cursed.

She looked at me dryly. “Did you forget how to drive while you were on the inside?”

Her sarcasm was adorable, but the way she was fiddling with the hem of her shorts told me that she was really nervous.

“I might’ve,” I admitted. “It’s not like I had any reason to drive while I was locked up. Hell, the only time I was in a vehicle in the last year was when they transferred me to a new prison.”

She closed the retort that was about to leave her lips.

“Where’s the nearest clothing store to here?” I asked curiously.

She pulled up her phone and gestured toward the highway in front of us.

“I don’t know this area,” she confessed. “But I’ll Google it. Just stay on this road. If anything, this’ll lead us to home. In a roundabout way.”

I did as she suggested, loving the feel of the wind in my hair.

Speaking of hair…

“One other stop I’d like to make,” I said. “If that’s okay with you.”