Joy (Hell's Handlers MC 7)

Her desire for approval stemmed from so much more than a cookie. Holly harbored an enormous amount of guilt where Travis was concerned. Once her father’s evil actions had come to light, she’d become convinced she could have kept him out of jail had she only stuck to her gut feeling of his innocence. If it had been up to LJ, this meeting would have happened when the man got out of prison a few months ago if only to ease Holly’s misplaced guilt, but Travis had been near impossible to track down. The air needed to be cleared.

Travis swallowed the last of a cookie. “That being said, ma’am, these cookies are phenomenal.”

“Please, you do not need to call me ma’am. Holly is fine, or you can call me Little Miss.” She slapped a hand over her mouth as though shocked by her own words. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I said that. I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes.

Fuck, nothing gutted him more than the sight of his woman in pain. She’d gone through a fuck-ton in the short amount of time they’d been together, and he’d vowed to himself to make this Christmas season her the first one full of love and laughter she’d had since her sister died. And here she sat bleeding out painful emotions all over the place.

“I’m sorry for it all. I know it means nothing, and I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. The fear, and the anger, and the injustice of it all.” She shook her head. “I’m just so sorr—”

Travis held up a hand. “That’s enough,” he said in a cutting tone that had LJ glimpsing the no-nonsense MC president for the first time since he opened the door to the man. “I’m not here for an apology, and I won’t accept one from you because you don’t owe me a fucking thing. Least of all, an apology.”

With his gaze still on Travis, LJ pressed a kiss to the side of Holly’s head as he ran his hand up and down her arm. She leaned heavily into his side. If the comfort of his touch helped soothe her in any way, he’d keep his hands on her for the rest of her life.

“But I knew,” she said as she lightly pounded her fist against her chest. “I knew deep down you hadn’t murdered my sister. Something had always seemed off. A gut feeling, but I let them sway me.”

LJ wasn’t the only one gravely affected by the agony in Holly’s voice. Travis placed his mug on the table, then rested his elbows on his knees. “Holly, you were fucking twelve,” he said in his ruined voice. “And if I remember correctly, you did tell the cops you thought I was innocent.”

She had. Or so she’d mentioned to LJ. When interviewed by the police, she’d been asked if she’d ever had an interaction with the MC president. Holly told a story of the man’s kindness toward her when he found her bleeding in the street after falling off her bike. He’d seen her home without harm, hell, without so much as a four-letter word, then repaired her bike on the sly. When he’d been suspected of murdering her twin sister, Joy, Holly had confessed the story stating the man who’d had so many chances to hurt her but didn’t could not have been the man to kidnap and murder a twelve-year-old girl.

“But I should have done more. Been more adamant. Not let them influence me.” She shook her head, eyes red, lashes clumped together from crying.

Travis’ laugh was ugly and bitter. “Wouldn’t have made a lick of difference, Little Miss. There was hard physical evidence. Planted by the cops, but I’m sure every murderer claims the cops planted evidence. It was enough to convince twelve members of a jury I was a child killer. They wanted me behind bars, and they got it. You could have thrown an epic fit in the courtroom, and you’d have just been patted on the head and looked at with pity.”

LJ flinched right along with Holly at the disturbing visual. But… “He’s right, sugar. It’s time to let go of the guilt.”

“I’m all right, Holly. I’m out. I have my freedom,” Travis said, but the shadows in his eyes told a different story. The man might be free now, but he’d suffered through his years in prison. As though thinking along LJ’s lines, Travis absently touched the scar at his throat. “If anyone owes someone here, it’s me who owes you a debt of thanks I can never repay. I had a life sentence without the possibility of parole. I’ve done plenty in my life to earn me a spot behind bars. Sure as fuck never hurt a kid or a woman, but I saw the conviction as karma come to kick my ass for all the other shit I got away with. You coulda let me rot. You had no obligation to free me.”