For Life Read online

  "But..." She looked all around the room trying to find the right words to explain what she needed and came up empty.

  Jeremy yelled for Cam from the other room. Cam fastened his belt. "I'm riding out to escort the women to Silver Girls for their practice."

  The full feeling she experienced moments ago deflated and left her hollow and aching. She nodded.

  "Hey." He cupped the back of her head. "Remember what I said. Nobody comes in the house."

  She stared at the floor. The impact of his lack of reply crushed her.

  The front door shut and the roar of motorcycles filled the house. She picked up a pillow and squeezed the life out of it, wishing it were Cam's head. What an egotistical ass.

  How hard was it for him to say he loved her too?

  She stomped to the bathroom, showered, and dressed for the day. Her anger grew the more she dwelled on Cam's pressure for her to admit her feelings. He'd purposely refrained from saying the words back to her that she desperately needed. Oh, she believed he loved her. He held back to punish her. The asshole got off on making her hold on to him. She was no longer the scared woman he'd locked in his bedroom. Over the past year, he'd forced her to grow up and she'd thrived.

  Running her hands through her wet hair, she inhaled deeply and tried to calm down. His lack of communication would not ruin her day.

  She grabbed her laptop and went outside. He wasn't the only one who could be stubborn.

  Ever since Cam showed his displeasure over having the internet at the house, she'd ignored her work. She couldn't risk Cam shutting down the internet, because he feared losing his privacy. However, Cam wasn't home, and she enjoyed being online.

  Out on the porch, she sat down in the rocker and opened her laptop. As the screen flashed and powered up, she gazed out at Merk working on his motorcycle in front of the travel trailer. She'd gotten the idea to look up all the information she could find on the Idaho State Penitentiary online when she found herself lonely in the evenings. What started out as curiosity soon became an addiction.

  She'd stumbled across a forum where wives, girlfriends, and loved ones of the prisoners posted their complaints, their worries, and their troubles. Those who participated in the online community formed friendships with each other and became an extended network for support. Shared stories, inside information often leaked into the posts, and gave her a hint of what life was like for Cam. At the beginning, she had trouble deciphering the language, but she soon picked up on the slang and odd phrases. Because she recognized the names of Reds, Blues, and Los Li, she'd categorized the connections of gang members with the actual prisoners.

  Merk walked inside the travel trailer. She tapped her Wi-Fi button, went straight to the website, and logged in. There were over two hundred new topics since she'd last checked into the site. She opened the saved document and then scanned the forum for new information.

  Tyrel hates the food. It's not fair that others have clearance to bring food into the visiting area and I don't. He looks like he's lost twenty pounds in the last six months.

  Does anyone know if I'm allowed to wear earrings while I visit?

  Christina scrolled down to the personal forum. Usually all new information happened within the secured members' only forum. All she had to do was login and eavesdrop on private conversations.

  Michael received parole. He gets out next Wednesday. I can't wait.

  She clicked over to her document, found Michael's name and typed his release date underneath his location. Running her finger down the screen, she counted the last three months releases, including Michael. Nine men walked out of prison, and they were all Reds members. She tapped her foot and rescanned the screen. Why were there no Blues, Los Li, or Moroad MC members getting out?

  "That thing must've done something to piss you off," Merk said, jolting her.

  She closed the laptop before Merk caught sight of the webpage and smiled. "I was reading. Why aren't you out with the guys?"

  "There's a new rotation since Cam returned. I'm sitting out on the trip to town this week." Merk sat on the top step and leaned against the pole, lighting a cigarette.

  She set the laptop on the porch and curled her legs underneath her. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to apologize for Cam getting upset last night. He doesn't—"

  "Hey." He shrugged. "Not your fault. I get it."

  She let her head fall against the back of the rocker. "Merk..."

  He held up his hand and turned his attention toward the yard. She sighed in frustration. Her friendship with Merk had come a long way. She couldn't stand him when he got out of prison and showed up at the door in the middle of the night, drunk off his ass, and wanting to sleep on the couch. Scared to death, she yelled at him through the closed door to go away, and then she'd called Gunner. Instead of leaving, Gunner showed up and sat on the porch all night while Merk slept off his drink. She'd paced the living room until the sun came up and ordered Gunner to take Merk away. She didn't care where he went, but she didn't want him hanging around the house.

  Despite what she wanted to happen, Merk stayed.

  It wasn't until she'd fallen apart one night on the kitchen floor, sobbing for Cam, had Merk reached out to her. He hovered, listening when she needed to talk or talking her out of losing her mind. He even accepted her bitching about her position in Cam's life and losing him. Somewhere between hating Merk and appreciating him, she decided she rather liked him.

  "Life is always changing." He glanced at her. "We fall into routines and something comes along and bumps us around. Cam's...well, he's doing what he has to do now that he's home. None of this reflects on you."

  "Life's a bitch," she mumbled.

  Merk chuckled, the sound more fatalistic than amused. "Yeah, she is a bitch."

  "Did you come back from prison wanting to change everything around you?" she asked.

  The lines at the corner of Merk's eyes deepened. "Cam would have your ass if he knew you were asking me questions about him."

  "I'm asking about you."

  He turned and raised his brows. "No, you're asking about him. Every question you ask me is always about Cam."

  "That's not true." She swallowed.

  Merk stood. "Don't lie to yourself, and don't lie to me. I know where I stand. Cam has always known what I am to Moroad MC. It's time you stop fooling yourself into believing we're friends. We're not friends."

  Her neck straightened and she blinked at Merk. The gruff statement coming from him shook her. His statement was untrue.

  "What are you saying?" She joined him at the porch railing. "You're not going to be my friend anymore, because Cam's back?"

  Afraid he'd walk away without answering her, she put her hand on his arm. His muscles tensed under her fingers, and she dropped her hand to her side. She wanted to cry. Didn't he understand how much she appreciated him in her life?

  "Cam's right." Merk's eyes softened. "You need to stay away from me."

  "I don't want to." She ignored his anger and held his arm again. "I need you to be my friend."

  Merk's jaw twitched. She hated her lack of control over her life. Her fear of losing a friend at her age embarrassed her.

  "Please don't let Cam make you believe that we can't remain friends. He just doesn't want you in the house when he's gone, but we can still talk...like we're doing now." She slid her hand down his arm and grasped his fingers. "I talk to Gunner, Stache, Willy, and the rest of them all the time. It's no different than talking to you."

  Merk lowered his head and hovered his lips by her mouth. "Does this feel like you're talking to the other men?"

  A jolt of awareness swept up her spine. She leaned her head back. "What are—?"

  "How about now?" He moved closer, until she rocked back on her heels to avoid him pressing against her.

  "Merk..."She stared up into pain-filled eyes.

  He wrapped his arm around her back, crushing her against his chest. "Don't fucking lump me with the other men. They don't have the balls to
be this close to you because they're afraid Cam will kill them for touching you."

  "You're touching me." She panted; confused about why he wanted her to know he could put his hands on her.

  The corner of his mouth lifted as he stared at her lips. "That's because I'm not afraid to die."

  Merk let go of her. She stumbled backward, pressing a hand against her racing heart. He wasn't afraid to die?

  Did that mean he wasn't going to stop touching her? Would he go against Cam's orders? She walked backward, reaching behind her for the door. Her hand hit wood, and she whirled around, turned the knob, and shut herself in the house.

  Warmth consumed her body. She peered wildly around the foyer searching for answers, knowing Merk gave her more than she'd asked for. She pressed her hands against her stomach, squelching the turbulence he'd created inside of her.

  Merk was her friend.

  She loved Cam.

  Her back slid along the surface of the door, until her butt hit the floor. She only wanted a friend, and Merk offered her companionship when Cam left for prison. She banged the back of her head against the door.

  God, Cam would kill anyone who developed feelings for her.

  She'd turned to Merk, held on to the friendship he offered, and never thought he'd take her attention as...as anything more than a platonic friendship. Her stomach seized and she groaned. Somehow, she needed to fix Merk's misplaced emotions toward her before Cam found out.

  Chapter Seven

  Cam rolled out of bed, yawned, and followed the sounds of laughter and hushed voices in the house. He hadn't meant to close his eyes, but damned if he could resist the smell of Christina in the bed and the softness of the mattress. He'd barely stepped into the house and exhaustion hit him out of nowhere. The plan to lie down for a minute and rest his knee turned into a nap.

  He glanced at the clock in the foyer, surprised it was four o'clock already. "Christina?"

  "In here," Christina yelled from the kitchen.

  Jeremy laughed. "You're so—"

  "Sh."

  Christina cut off her laughter when Cam walked into the room. Jeremy leaned forward at the table and rubbed his jaw.

  Cam glanced between his woman and the kid. Both of them avoided his eyes.

  He picked the sandwich off the plate on the table. "What's going on?"

  "Nothing." Christina smiled overly bright. "How was your nap?"

  "You shouldn't have let me sleep." He chewed the roast beef sandwich. "Did Johnson come over?"

  "Yes, but since you were sleeping, I told him to go ahead and wait outside." She rubbed the wet dishcloth over the counter. "He's out there talking to Merk and Stache."

  "I'm heading outside. Tiff's coming over later with the women." Jeremy glanced at Cam, grinned, and pushed out of his chair. "Nice..."

  "What?" Cam wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.

  Christina's eyes widened and she reached for Jeremy. The kid dodged her hands and rushed out of the kitchen. Cam took another bite from the sandwich. While away, Christina had slipped into an older sister role with Jeremy. The bond and ease in which the two got along mystified him.

  "What's going on with the kid?" he asked.

  "Jeremy?" She shrugged and swept up his empty plate. "I think he's excited to spend time with Tiff. She recently got a job at Silver Girls cleaning the rooms upstairs and her work schedule cuts into his time with her."

  "Good." Cam brushed his hand through his beard. "He's got more important things to do than get too serious with a girl."

  She stayed beside him, plucked a crumb out of his beard, and gave him a silly grin. He sat back and enjoyed the close view of her breasts in front of his face. He'd missed the little things she gave him. All the days of sitting down eating cold, bland oatmeal or some half-ass scrambled eggs with men he hated couldn't compare to watching his woman work her way around the kitchen, creating a smell that stayed with him all day. Not to mention being available for her to press her body against.

  She leaned down and kissed him. "I love you."

  "I know." He sighed, unused to hearing those words from her.

  "The right response would be 'I love you, too'. I've heard it works wonders to soften a woman," she mumbled.

  "You're already soft enough."

  "Cam..." She huffed and shook her head.

  "I'm telling you that you're perfect." He tagged the front of her shirt and held her down within reach, slipping his tongue between her lips.

  She tasted him back, catching his lower lip with her teeth. He growled, bringing her back around. She'd know when he finished kissing her that he appreciated her telling him how she felt.

  She pulled away, gasping for breath and smiling. "I had sex with you three hours ago and you fell asleep. We better stop if you plan on going outside and talking with Johnson."

  "Johnson can go to hell." He stood and pushed in the chair. "I do need to get going though. The guys are coming over tonight. Make sure you grab something to eat now, because you won't have time to make a meal."

  "I ate right before you came in the kitchen."

  He looped his arm around her shoulders. "Then come outside and keep my side warm while I talk with Johnson."

  At the door, she hesitated. "Cam, I should tell you—"

  "We're good, baby. I'm not going anywhere. We'll have a nice night with the others and then it'll just be me and you." He tugged her close, kissing her upturned lips.

  She leaned into him. "You're going to kill me," she mumbled.

  "Huh?" He led her through the door. "What did you do?"

  The hoots and laughter from the men on the porch interrupted Christina. She stood beside him, hanging her head, biting down on her lip. Cam looked at Stache, Johnson, and Jeremy. The assholes continued to laugh.

  "What?"

  Merk turned away and walked across the yard. Cam assessed the situation. The drinks hadn't started. They were all staring and laughing at his expense. He turned Christina toward him, lifted her chin, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.

  "What the hell did you do?" He held her captive.

  Her lips quivered, losing the fight against smiling. "I'm so sorry."

  He stared at her, overcome with the beauty she freely gave him. His cock pulsed. Whatever the reason behind everyone's amusement, he'd take it to keep Christina happy.

  "Don't kill me," she said, letting her laughter escape. "It was funny at the time."

  She stretched and kissed him hard. Caught up in the view of his woman, carefree and enjoying herself, punched him in the gut. Every day while locked away, he'd envisioned her exactly this way, laughing and open, showing everyone who looked at her how happy he made her.

  Christina fell back on her heels, gaping up at him with a blush that covered her perky nose and spread to her cheeks. He let go of the tangle of hair he clutched in his hand knowing he finally had her back and a possessive madness to keep the good times coming came over him.

  "Might want to clean that mess off your face," Gunner said, thrusting a motorcycle helmet in his direction.

  He took the helmet, still looking at Christina, afraid the contentment consuming her would dissipate if he looked away.

  "I'm sorry," Christina mouthed.

  He lifted the helmet, peered at his reflection in the black surface, and squinted. He looked closer, letting his vision focus on the blurred image of himself.

  Sometime while he'd slept, she'd kissed his forehead with bright red lipstick on. He held in his amusement, willing to teach her a lesson.

  "Keep laughing, assholes, but I don't see you sporting your woman's lips. That's not the only place where her lips have been on me. I'll be glad to show you the other lip prints." He tossed the helmet back to Gunner and grabbed his belt buckle. The two red lipstick stains on his forehead matched the one around his cock.

  "No!" Christina pitched forward and hugged his waist, putting her body between his cock and his men. "You can't show them that one."

  He held he
r to his chest and grinned. "Look and weep, boys."

  "No question on who owns you." Stache grinned.

  Christina tilted her chin. "You want me to help you wash it off your face?"

  "Fuck no." He kissed her deep, arching her back. "I'm going to wear your lips on my fucking forehead all night for the whole damn world to see."

  Her smile grew and her arms tightened around him. He lowered his hand, sprawling his fingers on her lower back. Hell, he wasn't going to let her take a foot away from him tonight.

  Stache and Jeremy wandered off to join Merk at his trailer. Cam kept Christina in his arms and faced Johnson. They had business to conduct, and he couldn't put it off any longer.

  "What did you find out?"

  "Not a damn thing." Johnson sat on the porch railing. "I talked to Steve's aunt, and all she talked about was the heavy pressure from Steve's lawyer for him to take a plea bargain if he admitted his guilt. Far as she knows, Steve refuses to cooperate."

  "I figured he'd let the jury decide and do the time." Cam widened his stance, letting Christina lean against his pelvis. "Steve's not going to come right out and give his aunt a message for us."

  "Right, so I kept her talking like you told me. The only thing his aunt mentioned was Steve wanted her to try and bring a huckleberry pie with her next visit. She said something about Steve always complained during the slow huckleberry seasons, because he couldn’t eat enough pies to satisfy his craving," Johnson said. "That's a damn weird conversation to have when you only have ten minutes to visit with your favorite aunt."

  "Yeah," Cam muttered.

  Johnson took long enough figuring what to tell Cam, and the dumb ass still had no clue he'd picked up the information he needed. He reached over Christina's shoulder and shook Johnson's hand.

  "You tried." Cam lifted his chin. "Go ahead and call the others. I feel like sitting back and watching the fire tonight."

  "Will do." Johnson walked off the porch.

  Cam shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if half the guys in Moroad MC have a brain cell left in their head. If they didn't have someone holding their dick when they peed, they'd miss the toilet."