Page 4 of Parrish

Chapter Two

Reina Parrish

Two patrolmen are waiting outside the room to escort us out of the building and the moment I catch sight of them, my lungs constrict. The air becomes too heavy, my chest too tight and I freeze as the heavy burden of truth slams into me.

I’m losing my husband.

Unaware of my anxiety attack, Jack and his lawyer continue to walk ahead of me. It isn’t until he reaches the elevator that he turns and realizes I’m not at his side like I promised I’d be.

“Reina?” he calls. The lines on his forehead cinch together with concern as he narrows his dark eyes, assessing me.

It’s one of many looks I’m going to miss witnessing come across my husband’s face.

Even though I’m not the only one privy to Jack’s worry, I’ve come to respect and love the deep concern he feels for everyone in his life. It’s such an admirable trait for a man like him to possess. Something so many people take for granted.

He continues to study me in a way only he can, reading my inner thoughts, accepting my fears and regretting all the ways he thinks he has failed me. Only he hasn’t. Not even a little and my only wish for him is that he realizes that. That he knows loving him has been the greatest honor of my life. That he trusts he’s deserving of that love…that honor.

I smile at him, giving him the little bit of light he craves, and point in the direction of the restroom.

“I’ll be just a minute,” I tell him, watching his dark eyes soften slightly.

Once inside, I lean against the door and close my eyes, willing myself to pull it together, to be the woman he needs right now. The woman who stands beside him when everything falls apart, the strength that lifts and carries him through the dark until he finds his light.

Pushing off the door, I make my way towards the sink and turn on the faucet. Absentmindedly I stare at the running water before bending my head and splashing my face. The district attorney’s voice rings in my head, repeating two devastating words…thirteen years.

I’m not a naïve woman. I knew who I was marrying. I was aware of the risks but, knowing them and living them are two very different things. Before today, prison was only a possibility, one I had pushed to the back of my head. If I’m being honest, I’ve always figured the chance of Jack being killed was far greater than him ever being locked up. Especially since he’s eluded the law for more than half his life.

This, making a deal with the district attorney and voluntarily surrendering, isn’t how I pictured losing my husband. If I didn’t lose him to violence, I always figured it would be his mind that eventually stole him from me. I’m ashamed to admit, I’ve even prepared myself for the day he looks at me and sees nothing. The day when his maker claims victory and all that he is, everything he’s worked so hard to overcome, is lost.

Turning the water off, I lift my head and stare at my reflection. I’m not the young girl who let her scars and past define her. I’m not the shy woman who walked into a clubhouse full of bikers holding a cherry pie. I’ve come a long way over the years and while it may not have been an easy hurdle to climb, I found my place beside the president of an outlaw motorcycle club. I am his woman, his wife—his old lady and the former first lady of a club that has been good to my family.

There is a price to pay for the life we live, the love we have—for us it’s sacrificing thirteen years but, like we’ve gotten through everything else, we’ll get through this. We’ll survive because we’re not meant to lay down and die. When you’ve got heart, you will never accept defeat. For when a person has heart, they have a will to rise above hell.

A knock sounds on the door behind me and the sense of déjà vu washes over me, bringing me back to the beginning, to when I was that young woman afraid of living. I stood before a mirror just as I am now, and Jack stood behind me. He took away my pain and made it okay for me to carry on and as he pushes open the door now, I vow to do the same for him. Our eyes meet in the mirror as he leans against the door and crosses his arms against his chest. His gaze slowly works me over from head to toe.

“I’m sorry, Reina,” he says quietly, lifting those dark eyes back to mine.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he answers, standing tall.

Drawing out a sigh, he takes several steps towards me, closing the distance between us. Spinning around to face him, he lifts his calloused hands to my face and cradles me in his large palms.

“I’m not,” I reply, meeting his troubled gaze. “I never will be either, so quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you regret making me yours.”

“I don’t regret that,” he argues, shaking his head slightly. “Never. I’m too selfish to regret it,” he adds, bending his head. His mouth hovers over mine and instinctively I close my eyes, waiting for his kiss.

“What do you want, Reina?” he questions, running the pad of his thumb across the seam of my mouth. Maybe he’s rubbed off on me some, but my husband isn’t the only selfish one these days.

“Everything. All of you, starting with your mouth,” I murmur, opening my eyes as he growls. Tunneling his fingers through my hair, he pushes my head back and his eyes dart to my lips.

“Where do you want my mouth?”

“Everywhere,” I tell him as he rocks his hips forward, pressing his growing erection against my stomach. A whimper escapes my lips as his fingers leave my hair. A second later I feel his hands squeeze my ass as he lifts me onto the counter and nudges my legs apart. Standing between them, he runs a finger down the column of my neck.

---