His Old Lady - Debra Kayn Page 0,66

her, not trusting himself around her. "I'm taking off."

"Where are you going?"

He turned and went to the bedroom. The news scrambled his head. He needed to get out of here, away from her.

Finishing getting dressed, he tucked his pistol behind his back and slipped on his vest. As the V.P. of Tarkio, the others would kill him if they found out he'd forced Faye to have sex when she was seventeen years old—and he'd hand them all the bullets to do the job.

He grabbed his duffle in the living room and slipped outside. Having left his Harley in the driveway next to Faye's car, he knew she'd have a way to get home.

He sat the motorcycle when Faye came out of the front door. Seeing her pierced his heart. Ask him to do anything to protect his club, and he'd be the first to volunteer, but he would never hurt her.

"Wait." She ran to him, using the tank of the Harley to stop her forward momentum on the slight incline of the driveway. "You forgot to kiss me goodbye."

He squeezed the handlebars and braced as her head came closer. She kissed him, holding her lips against his, and pulled back frowning.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to go." He started the Harley, his voice gruffer than he wanted it. "Be careful today. I'll see you tonight at Promise."

He rode away, circled the block to make sure she'd gone back inside, and then sped over to the clubhouse. Ignoring the other Tarkio members lounging around, he strode into the office.

Luck was with him, and Priest sat at the table, raising his gaze as Curley slammed the door. "What's the rush?"

"I’m heading over to the prison. Put someone on Faye for the rest of the day until I get back. She's at my house."

"Okay." Priest leaned back in the chair. "Does Walker know you're coming?"

He hadn't said who he was going to see. There were almost fifty Tarkio members currently in prison.

"He'll know when I show up." Excess energy kept him on his feet. "Just put someone on Faye."

Until he could dive into finding out how the fire started at her greenhouse, he wasn't going to take any chances with her. If she went back to Grandma June's house,

Priest stood from the table. "On it."

Curley jogged through the clubhouse, got on his motorcycle, and rode away. His lips burned in the wind. If what she'd said was true and she could still seek him out, looking for a kiss, he'd done more damage than he'd thought.

Knowing he would've liked to have kissed her deeper and enjoy the moment more sickened him. He'd always known his feelings for her crossed the line. He couldn't help noticing her. She was his. Always his.

Jesus Christ, he hadn't acted on his feelings. He'd purposely kept her at a distance. She was an affectionate kid, who'd picked him to love, but he'd kept his distance.

If what she was saying, and he'd pulled her into his bed. He'd forced her.

By the time he entered the prison parking lot, there were only two hours left for visitors to check-in and schedule a visit. He only hoped that Walker hadn't got himself in trouble, and his visitation pulled for the week.

Having left his vest, weapon, and jewelry in his duffle on his bike, he forced himself to stand in the back of the room and wait for his name to be called. He reached up, feeling for the weight of his necklaces. Without them, he was stripped of any sign of how he lived his life. To everyone else in the room, he was only a tatted man waiting for the guard to escort him to Walker.

He glanced at the large clock behind a metal grate on the wall. One more hour and the visiting room would be cleared out and locked up.

The door swung open, and a woman carrying a clipboard stepped into the room. The low conversations around him by the others waiting to see inmates hushed.

"Georgia Flemming, Rod Pulinski, Carl Albright." The guard looked up from the piece of paper. "Line up at the door."

Curley stepped forward. There were only two places where he used his real name. Prison and the DMV. The rest of the time, Carl Albright never existed.

Taking his turn getting patted down for contraband, he was then led through a long hallway and shown to the cubicle where he was told to sit. If, for any reason, he stood during the visit, it would be taken