if he had been transported almost fourteen years back in time. Not much had changed as far as he could tell. The old registers were gone, replaced with sleek computers, but aside from that, the place was as he remembered the last time he’d been there. Four days before the cops pounded on his door and arrested him in the middle of the night.
“Welcome to Ty’s Tires,” a man said from behind the counter. He had his back to the door as he erased a name from a schedule on a whiteboard. The same whiteboard Curly used to leave inappropriate drawings on when he’d been younger. The place might have computers, but that didn’t mean Tyler would use them. He’d always preferred pen and paper to anything higher-tech.
Curly cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said.
“Anything I can help you with?” Tyler turned, and his eyes widened to a comical width. “Travis,” he whispered.
Growing up, the two of them had been inseparable. Cousins with sisters for mothers, they’d seen each other at least five days a week throughout their entire childhoods, even after Curly’s mother died. Both had developed a love of motorcycles early on and, all through high school, had pledged to patch into the True Outlaws together. They’d been a team.
So at twenty-one, they’d prospected. Curly had fit right in, taking to the rough and gritty lifestyle like a raccoon to trash, but Tyler could never get past some of the acts committed by the club. He’d bailed three months into prospecting.
The difference in opinion on the Outlaws MC had driven a rift between Curly and his cousin. Despite it all, Tyler had been the only family member to write Curly in prison. The letters had been few and far between but receiving them had given Curly hope for a future reconciliation.
Looked like the future had finally arrived, which explained the nausea and inability to eat breakfast that morning.
A handful of letters to a felonious family member were one thing. Getting Ty to agree to Curly’s in-person proposition was another thing entirely. Curly hadn’t realized just how vital this reunion was until Tyler stood in front of him. How much he wanted to rekindle the friendship they’d once had. Guess he’d find out just what his cousin thought of him.
“Hi, Tyler.”
His cousin still stared at him as though he were an alien landed on earth. “I—” He shook his head then strode forward. “Shit, it’s good to see you, man.” He enveloped Curly in a back-slapping hug that lasted longer than any he’d ever received from a family member.
“You too, Ty.” Understatement of the century.
“Um, I, uh...” Tyler cleared his throat as he released Curly. After a step back, he shook his head and rubbed his chest. “Sorry, I sound like an idiot. Think it’s safe to say you shocked me to a near heart attack.”
Curly smiled. “Sorry. Thought in person would be better than a phone call.”
“I’d heard you’d gotten out.” Ty ran a hand through his hair. “Wondered if you’d get in contact.”
That made Curly wince. Maybe he should have called as soon as he’d gotten out. “I always planned to. Just needed…time to get my head on straight.”
Similar in color to Curly’s, Tyler wasn’t gifted the chick-magnet mop of curls. Still, it was dark and shaggy, and when combined with his muscular form, plentiful tattoos, and a deep tan, he’d never had trouble nabbing a girl.
“Yeah. Can’t imagine.” Ty cleared his throat. “Never thought I see you again, though. Figured you’d stay as far from this place as possible. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s good with me. Real good.” With a heavy sigh, Curly shrugged. “Staying far away was the original plan. Shit changes, though. Probably doesn’t make sense, but I just needed to be here.”
They stared at each other for a moment. What was Tyler thinking? He’d been warned that despite the overturned conviction and confession from Lane of the police department’s role in framing him, not everyone would automatically believe his innocence. Even if they did, some people would fear him after he’d spent so many years in a maximum-security prison with other convicted murderers.
“Well, shit, cuz, it doesn’t need to make sense to me.” Tyler rubbed his chest as though it ached. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through. I know it doesn’t mean shit, but I’m fucking sorry for what happened to you. Never believed you did it, you know? Back then, I tried to tell the cops it just wasn’t possible,