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He’d seen Jack’s bike in the parking lot, so he knew he had to be home, which was why he was frowning so hard as he walked down the hallway.
“Jack?” he called out again just before stepping into the kitchen.
He stuttered to a halt. Jack was leaning back against the kitchen counter, the guy from the parking lot pressed up against him with his shirt open.
He was gonna be sick.
After what Jack had done earlier, he’d thought… Fuck. He was such a moron.
“Zero,” Jack gasped out and tried to move away from the guy.
He wasn’t sticking around for this. He couldn’t deal with this. He just… couldn’t.
He turned on his heels and got the hell out of there.
He’d stupidly let himself believe, let himself hope, that whatever had happened earlier was something more. Something special. That there’d been something between them.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. It had all been too good to be true.
He got on his bike and took off, not caring where he ended up as long as he got the hell away from there.
One hour on the road became four. He knew exactly where his subconscious had taken him and for once he was relieved to be heading toward Pittsburg. It may have been his prison for eight years—really, it had been for far longer than that—but there was one thing there that made going down that particular memory lane worth it.
Chapter Nine
Jack
ZERO STILL hadn’t come home. He hadn’t heard from him at all. He’d been gone the whole weekend. He didn’t know why he cared so much. He knew he shouldn’t, but the worry kept creeping up on him.
After a full day of Zero not answering his calls, he’d caved and asked Walker if he knew where he was. If he was okay.
Zero being in Pittsburg with his sister was not exactly the answer he’d expected. It was much better than any alternative he’d come up with, though.
Fucking Gillies. That asshole kept ruining everything for him. If it wouldn’t land him back in prison, he would slam his fist into Gillies’s face. Repeatedly.
He stopped sweeping with a groan. The broom was horrible and that was the damn point. Prospect duties were supposed to suck.
What sucked even more was that he’d already been through this ten years ago. He hated that he had to do it all again and that he had to prove himself more this time as if everything he’d done for the club the past decade wasn’t proof enough.
They all thought he’d done and probably also sold drugs. Knowing they’d all just believed it fucking hurt. When he’d gotten out on bail, all he’d seen from his brothers and sisters was disappointment. No disbelief. No confusion. Just plain old disappointment.
He knew some of it was on him. He hadn’t exactly been forward with an explanation, but it wasn’t like most had asked for one in the first place.
“Hey.”
He glanced over his shoulder, a smile finding his lips when he saw Gabe standing there with a warm smile on his face.
“You doing okay?” Gabe asked.
Jack shrugged. “I’m fine.”
Gabe’s lips twitched.
“You know most of us think this whole prospecting thing is ridiculous, right?”
He felt his brows snap together.
“What?”
