Page 22

Kingsley

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Smoker walked into the office of the clubhouse. Kingsley picked up the bag on the desk and tossed it across the room.

"Hey, thanks." Smoker grabbed the handles and flung the bag over his shoulder. "I was looking for this."

"You left it in the cabin. One of the cleaning girls found it." Kingsley picked up a baggie of weed and tossed it to Smoker. "She found this, too."

Smoker stuffed the bag in his vest pocket. "That's not mine, but I'll take it."

"Do you need the truck?" Zane kicked back in the chair and put his boots on the desk.

"Nah." Smoker chuckled. "Don't have anything but bags."

"If you need to come back, just let us know." Zane latched his hands behind his head.

"Thanks, Prez." Smoker walked out of the office.

Smoker had lived in one of the cabins behind the clubhouse for the last year. He only recently decided to move into town with some woman he met. Kingsley shut the door. Members would often move out of Gem Haven if they looked toward settling down. Women tended to demand more from them, and the clubhouse had too many parties and girls. It made for jealous ol' ladies.

A knock came. Still by the door, Kingsley opened it again.

Guy stood in the hallway and pointed toward the main room. "The delivery truck is at the bar."

Kingsley looked at Zane. His brother put his feet on the floor and walked past him.

"Take the keys for the truck," said Zane from the hallway.

Kingsley stayed behind. Every week, after the delivery to the bar, two of the kegs and several of the bottles were brought up to the clubhouse. The state's stringent liquor permit process banned the clubhouse from purchasing alcohol within close proximity to the bar, so they ordered extras and transported them to the clubhouse themselves.

The landline phone on the desk rang. He picked it up, expecting Lori with news about the kegs. "Yeah?"

"I'm calling for Kenna Pruitt," said a woman.

His skin prickled. Kenna was at the bar working, and hesitated on giving the phone number out without knowing who was calling.

"Who is this?" he asked.

"This is Idaho State Penitentiary calling for Kenna Pruitt."

Fuck. He thrust his hand in his hair. Kenna had waited for the day they would contact her, but he wanted to make sure he was there when she received the news. If the judge denied her visitation request, she'd be devastated.

A big part of him wanted to tell the woman Kenna wasn't there and that she'd moved on, and he had no idea how to contact her. It was the only way he could protect her.

But, he wouldn't do that to her. He couldn't.

"She's working. I can give you the phone number of where to reach her," he said.

"Is it 555-3190? She's given us two numbers on the form."

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Thank you for your help. Goodbye."

The call disconnected. Kingsley set the phone down and shot out of the office.

Running through the clubhouse, he pushed men aside as he flew out the door. His Harley was twenty feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. His chest hammered, needing to get to her.

By the time he parked in front of the bar, rushed inside, and found Kenna, she was already on the phone with her back toward him.

Her rounded shoulders never moved. Ignoring everyone else in the room, he walked straight to her. Standing beside her, he tried to overhear the conversation, but Kenna wasn't saying anything.

She stared at her feet with the phone pressed to her ear. He couldn't tell how the call was going. Having dealt with his dad in prison and planning visitations, he was familiar with the emotions that a person goes through, but Kenna's dad wasn't just an inmate. He was on death row. The rules were different.

"Goodbye," she whispered.

She slowly lowered her arm and disconnected the call. White as a ghost, she swayed, catching herself on the back counter.

He grabbed her arm, steadying her. She looked up at him, barely any recognition in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled. He brought her to his chest, afraid she'd faint. She'd put all her energy into believing her dad wanted to see her. If, at the end, she was denied a visit, it would break her.

He cupped her head, absorbing the tremors rolling through her. The only sign that she was aware of him there was that she leaned into him, letting him support her.

Rebecca approached with her brows pinched. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. She needs a minute. Can you cover the bar?" he asked.

"Sure." Her eyes softened. "Take as much time as you need."

He guided Kenna through the kitchen, ignoring Lori's concerned look, and led her out the back door. Alone, he leaned against the building and lifted Kenna's face, needing to see more light in her eyes. The pain he'd witnessed killed him.

"Talk to me." He smoothed her hair out of her face.

The muscles in her throat convulsed. "Th-the judge granted River and me permission to visit with Dad on the twenty-eighth of this month." She grabbed onto his vest. "What day is it?"

"The fourteenth."

Her knees buckled. He scooped her up, holding her against him.

"Two weeks." She looked around wildly. "I need to find River."

"She's working at the campground."

Kenna frowned and looked at her phone. "I still have an hour until my lunch break." She gasped for air. "It's so far away."

"Breathe."

She looked at him. "What?"

"You're not breathing right."

"I can't." She swallowed. "I'm going to see my Dad."

He nodded. The shock was wearing off her.

Everyone had told her that her dad was dead. The one that turned out alive but sitting on death row. She could lose him at any moment. He held on to her. All she wanted to do was see him one more time.

"Oh, my God." She grabbed her throat. "What do I say? What is he going to say to me?"

"Sh." He rubbed her back. "You'll find out when you go. Right now, take the rest of the day off, and I'll walk you over to the campground. Then you can tell River."

"I can't leave Lori and Rebecca by themselves."

"Then, take your break now and talk to your sister." He motioned for her to go inside. "Let Lori know you'll be back at four o'clock."

She hurried inside, more in control of herself when she had something to do. He hoped a few minutes alone with River would calm her down. She was going to let her anxiety beat her up. There were two weeks until the visit—a lot could happen in prison during that time.

Kenna pushed through the back door. "Lori told me it's okay to take an early lunch." She grabbed his hand. "I'm going to find River."

It would take longer if he took her over there on his Harley. Instead, he grabbed her hand and headed toward the trail that led to the campground. There was no slowing down so she could keep up with his longer strides. Kenna jogged the whole way, making the walk in half the usual time.

She broke away from him as the cabin came into sight. He followed at a slower pace, knowing she needed support from her sister more than anything.

Phil walked out of the cabin, almost running into Kingsley. "Sorry-sorry."

He clapped the man on the shoulder. "How's it going, Phil?"

"Right as rain." Phil brushed his hands together. "Business is good."

"Thank fuck for that, huh?" Kingsley pointed toward the cabin. "Kenna and River received some news they've been waiting for. Do you think you can spare River for an hour?"

"No problem." Phil backed up. "I'll let her know she's off the clock."

He dipped his chin in thanks. Several minutes later, both girls came out of the cabin. From the paleness on River's face, Kenna had time to tell her what was going on.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Is Zane coming, too?"

River's gaze flooded with tears. There was nothing he could do. She wanted Zane.

"I'll get him for you." He stepped into the doorway of the cabin. "Hey, Phil. Ring Zane. He's outside the bar. Tell him to get over here."

"Will do."

He returned to the girls. Neither one talked.

River chewed her thumbnail. Kenna hugged her middle. While her sister dashed tears off her cheek, Kenna never cried, but the pain and fear she experienced was etched into her furrowed brows.

That hurt him more than if she fell apart.