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“Jack.” He reached out, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
Before he knew what was happening, his back was slammed against the nearest wall and Jack had an arm pressed against his throat.
“You don’t know me,” Jack growled.
Zero knew better than to move.
“I’ve been there, too, Jack. If you need someone to talk to. Someone who understands. Anything you need, I’ll be there.”
He didn’t know why the fuck he was offering himself up like that. Jack had been nothing but an asshole to him so far.
“Anything, huh?” Jack asked, his gaze dropping to Zero’s mouth.
He didn’t know what possessed him to say it. The hard body against his? The fact that Jack was sexy and angry? Because he knew Jack would be the kind of rough he wanted? The kind of rough he fucking craved?
“Anything.”
Jack
Anything. Anything?
What the hell was the guy trying to do to him? Did he not realize what he was saying to a man who’d just been locked up for over a year? The fuck was he doing offering up his ass like that?
It had to be a fucking trap.
Just like he’d seen one too many times inside.
He stepped back, releasing Zero’s throat from the pressure of his arm. He made a decision then and there to stay the fuck away from Zero. He didn’t trust him. Didn’t fucking like him.
“Stay away from me,” he snarled at Zero before turning on his heels.
He got the fuck outta there and didn’t look back.
He was halfway across the courtyard when his gaze caught on his baby. His black Harley Fat Boy with dark red accents. She was a fucking beauty and he’d missed the hell out of her. Almost as much as he’d missed his brother.
He made his way to her, running his hand over the leather seat. She was in pristine condition. Someone had clearly taken care of her while he’d been gone. They’d even replaced the broken mirror he’d never gotten the time to fix before going in.
He dug the key out of his pocket.
He’d gotten his stuff back when he’d left the prison. The keys to his bike and the house he shared with his twin. A pair of sunglasses. His phone that hadn’t seen a charger in one and a half years. His wallet with nothing but his license in it. Those were all the possessions he owned. Apart from the bike.
He swung a leg over the bike and as his ass hit the seat, it felt like coming home. This was one of the things he’d missed the most.
He turned the key, then cranked the throttle, the roar of his girl making him smile.
He put on his sunglasses and tore out of there, not caring that he wasn’t wearing a helmet. Stiletto would slap him over the head if she found out, but he figured that was one of the bylaws he could get a pass on breaking.
Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of his and Sully’s house and parked his bike in the first available spot on the street, not wanting to take up the space in their driveway.
It looked much the same. It was still baby blue which they’d both always hated, just not enough to paint it a different color.
He walked up the front steps and put the key in the lock. He took a deep breath before turning it and opening the door. Walking inside felt weird. He remembered walking out the door the day he went in. He’d looked back at the house, smiling at the baby blue, knowing it would look exactly the same when he returned. That was exactly what he needed; a good dose of normalcy.
He headed up the stairs, the thought of sleeping in his own damn bed driving him to move faster. He pushed the door to his room open and only made it one step inside before his stomach dropped.
His bed was gone. His dresser. His TV. His fucking curtains. Everything was gone. Replaced by baby stuff.
He wasn’t sure if it was irrational or not, but it had anger surging through him.
