My heart jumped in my throat at the idea that there was a riot going on in the prison that my husband was going to be locked in.
“What?” I shook my head. “No!”
But before I could answer, Trouper was already standing up.
“Don’t come back to this place, Beck,” Trouper whispered before hanging up the phone.
Before I could slam my hand on the glass, to get him to listen to reason, he stood up, turned around, and walked away.
His orange-jump-suited ass was the only thing I could focus on until he was completely out of the room.
I narrowed my eyes just before hanging up the phone.
Game on, Trouper Aoki. Game. Fucking. On.
The warden looked at me through the glass, and I saw the promise there.
He would call me to let me know everything was okay.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out, then allowed the guard to not only lead me out of the room, but out to my car.
He looked at me when men started to shout on the other side of the tall as fuck chain-link fence wrapped in razor wire.
“He’ll come around,” the man said. “Just give him time.”
And for some reason, I believed him.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He winked, then was gone, jogging back to the front doors where he pulled out a set of keys.
I got to my—Trouper’s—car and dropped inside, staring blankly at the prison for a few long moments.
Then I reached for my phone.
When I touched the screen, it lit up with a text, four missed calls, and a voicemail
The voicemail was from my brother.
Two calls were from my mom, one from my dad, and one from my brother.
I sighed and called my brother back first.
“Where the fuck are you?” he asked. “Your shit is gone.”
I’d been staying with my brother, who’d obviously noticed that I was gone after getting home from work.
He was an officer at the Kilgore Police Department just like my dad was.
He was also exceptionally unobservant because I’d been gone since yesterday.
“I’m in Montana,” I said.
He hissed in a breath.
He knew why I was in Montana.
There was only one reason for me to be in Montana.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because he’s my husband,” I told him. “And I love him.”
“Beckham,” Louis groaned. “Why are you doing this to me?”
I stiffened my spine. “Why am I doing this to you? Louis, I’m not doing shit to you. I’m trying to be something in life.”
As far as my brother knew, I was going to school to get my Master’s in Adventure Education—which happened to be a park ranger.
And, though I was doing that, that wasn’t why I was doing it in Montana.
Trouper was why I was in Montana.
“You know that our parents are going to ask me if I’ve heard from you. What am I supposed to say?” he countered.
Neither my parents nor my brother knew exactly why Trouper had gone to jail. They’d heard about the shit that had gone down, dismissed it, and that was that. They didn’t know that I was the reason that things had gone badly. That I was the reason that Trouper would be cooling his jets in jail. They liked to think the worst of him, and for now, I was okay with that. I didn’t have the time, nor the inclination, to set their thoughts straight. I had things to do, and very little time to do it before things changed irrevocably.
“What am I supposed to tell our parents?” he asked.
“Tell them that I’m working and going to school,” I said. “Which I am.”
My parents didn’t know what I did before, but Louis did.
They thought I was just a roamer that liked to take odd jobs here and there. Which, technically, wasn’t a lie. I went where the jobs took me.
It only happened that I was FBI—or former FBI anyway.
“You were supposed to come down this weekend. Our party, remember?” he grumbled.
Our dad’s birthday was this weekend. “I’ll be there.”
After I visited my man again, anyway.
CHAPTER 16
You smell like drama.
-Text from Beckham to Sammy
BECKHAM
I looked at myself in the mirror.
There was no hiding it or denying it any longer.
I fitted the tank top straps into place, tugged up my newly bought jeans, then slipped into a pair of boots that would allow me to run if I needed to.
I finished the ensemble off with my wedding ring and his, fitting them both into place.
My wedding ring I wore on my ring finger.
Trouper’s wedding ring I wore on a chain around my neck.
Just before I began to walk outside, my phone rang.
I frowned when I saw the number.
“Hello?” I answered.
“This is Warden Stanley.”
My heart jumped.
“Yes?”
“I’m putting you in a private room again,” he said. “I’ll continue to do that for the rest of Trouper’s stay here.”
I grinned wickedly.
“Did you find her?” I asked, hope filling my voice.
“She’s on the way home as we speak. My son is with her.” His voice broke.
I grinned so widely that my face hurt.
“That’s the best news that I’ve heard all day,” I admitted. “But, I, um, have some more for you. Not anything near as exciting as this. But about a few things that you might find helpful at that prison of yours.”
“Is that right?” he asked. “What do I give you in return?”
I was already shaking my head. “I don’t need anything in return. I just want that place safe for Trouper. If I give you the information, that might happen.”
Meaning, if I got rid of a few bad apples, they might not take their bad attitudes out on Trouper while he was there.
“Drop it by on the way out,” he suggested.
After promising that I would, I headed in the direction of the prison.
I went through the same song and dance as last time, and then was walked to the private meeting rooms I was in before.
This time, Trouper was already there waiting on me.
Since Troup never looked up from his angry
