I hold up my hands. Everyone needs to understand from the get-go that I don’t expect special treatment. “As long as I stay outside, I’m happy.”
A thundering chorus welcoming me home echoes through the room.
After a minute or so, Rock sits forward, silencing the brothers.
“What can we do to help?” Rock asks.
“Technically, I’m not even supposed to be here…I have to meet with my parole officer—”
“That’s handled,” Rock informs me.
“What?”
“Parole,” Z interjects from the opposite end of the table. “We know someone. As long as you don’t have major violations, you shouldn’t have any issues.”
“Well, aren’t you a crafty son of a bitch.”
Z grins even wider. “Damn right, brother. We’ve been itching to get this stuff in place for you.”
“As far as a suitable place to live…” Rock slides a piece of paper my way. “We have an apartment for you in Johnsonville.”
“It’s conveniently located near your job,” Wrath explains, handing over another piece of paper with directions to Strike Back Studio.
My mind’s having trouble catching up to all this unexpected information. I frown, staring at the unfamiliar address in front of me. “What job?”
Z sits forward, drawing my attention again. “Parole says you gotta be employed within a certain timeframe.”
“My friend owns this place.” Wrath taps the paper. “Sully isn’t affiliated with anyone and he’s not connected to the club in an easily traceable way. He’s flexible. Show up, see what he needs. He’ll sign off on whatever parole requires. Provide you with a steady paycheck.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I ain’t taking charity from some stranger.”
“It’s not charity,” Wrath insists. “Money’ll be coming from the club—just in a round-about way.”
“You’ve more than earned it,” Dex adds.
That’s debatable. But I don’t feel like arguing. “Don’t suppose the job offers health insurance?” I’m aiming for a joking tone, but I fail. I flex my fingers and roll my shoulder. My whole body tightens at the painful sensation, but I keep my face as neutral as possible. “Need to see a doctor. Got jumped by a couple guys not that long ago. The physical therapy I got inside was less than useful.” Prison medical wasn’t exactly concerned with whether I’d be able to ride again.
“Whatever you need, we’ll get it covered,” Rock assures me.
Can’t remember the last time I shed any tears. Didn’t think I was still capable of it. But my eyes burn and my nose stings. I stare down at my hands in my lap for a few seconds to collect myself before speaking. “Thanks.”
Rock must sense I’m overwhelmed. He nods at me, then turns the attention to him again with a quick clap of his hands. “All right. Figured you’d want a low-key evening with the family. That’s why the rest of Downstate isn’t here yet.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Doesn’t need me to. He’s right. What I want most is peace and quiet. Hell, I might find a sleeping bag and drag it out into the woods, just to reacquaint myself with the night sky.
“Tomorrow, the rest of Downstate will start arriving,” Rock says, gesturing toward Z’s end of the table. “So prepare yourself.”
“That include Sway?” I ask Z. “Or is he sulking since you took over?” God damn, it makes me happy to know Z kicked that arrogant piece of shit out of the president’s chair.
“Not sure yet,” Z smirks.
A sharp bark of laughter bursts out of me. “Shocked that fucker’s still alive. Figured Tawny woulda gutted him by now.”
“No such luck,” Rock says. “Couple of brothers from Virginia are planning to visit at some point too.” Rock curls his hands around the edge of the table. “Priest made some noises about riding up here and paying us a visit.”
I groan and rub my fingers over the tension gathering between my eyes. Our national president stopping by to thank me for my sacrifices isn’t what I need right now.
“One other thing,” Z says. “With Downstate comes a bunch of—”
“Porn stars!” Ravage yells and punches his fists in the air.
“Nice.” I nod, although I don’t really give a shit. What the fuck am I gonna talk about with girls less than half my age? Seems damn unappealing. “That’s the club’s new business venture?”
Rock and Z share a look. Makes sense. They’re not gonna want me poking into all the club’s details until they’re sure my alliances are in the right place. Can’t blame ’em.
“It’s Downstate’s main business,” Z answers. “Rooster handles a lot of the technical stuff for it.”
Technical. Shit. There’s something I won’t be able to help out with. From what I understand, technology has moved light years ahead since I went inside. What inmates had access to wasn’t up-to-date. “Maybe he can teach me some new tricks.”
“Definitely,” Z says. “I can help with whatever you need too.”
“Thanks, kid.” Don’t care how old he is, that he’s wearing a president’s patch, or that he has his own family now. Z will always be a kid to me.