She handed Carter the card. Was she blushing?

“That’s a damn good idea. Thanks.” He pushed the card into the back pocket of his jeans.

“So,” she continued. “I’ll see you then?”

“Sure,” he answered. Her flustering was unsettling but cute as hell.

“Good,” she replied, taking a step back. “I’ll let you get going. Take care.”

He saluted with two lazy fingers at his temple. “You too.” She smiled bashfully, turned, and walked back toward the facility.

Once she was through the door and out of sight, he blew out an uncomfortable breath. “Fuck.”

Peaches was normally so in control. He relied on her discipline to keep him calm. Their sessions would sure as shit not work if they continued to behave this way with each other. Maybe the whole tutoring thing was going to be an utter bust. He put his shades back on and headed back to the car.

Max was chuckling. “Something you wanna share?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“No,” Carter snapped back at the double entendre. Realizing how protective he sounded, he laughed, attempting to hide his annoyance. “She’s just a lit tutor, that’s all.”

“Tutor, huh?” Max asked, glancing back at the door she’d disappeared through. “Well, fuck, she could tutor me anytime with that ass. That’s some hot junk in the trunk.”

Carter held his tongue and smiled tightly while keeping his eyes on the handle of the car door. “Really, I hadn’t noticed.”

Max snorted and pulled his car keys from his pocket. “That settles it, brother. We need to get your ass laid.”

This, Carter had to laugh at and agree with wholeheartedly. He needed to relax and clear his mind of all this bullshit. He was a free man and he was ready to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

Carter had never been a homebody.

From the age of nine he’d been shifted from one wretched place to another. If it wasn’t from one boarding school to another equally pretentious one, he would, usually after coming to blows with his father, crash on friends’ sofas or floors. He always got itchy feet from staying in one place for too long.

That’s just the way his life was: unsettled.

So he was surprised when he was hit with an overwhelming sense of relief as he pushed the key into the lock of his loft apartment on the corner of Greenwich and Jay in the TriBeCa neighborhood of Manhattan. He pushed the door open and took a moment to allow the smells of the place to wash over him.

Max nudged his back. “You planning on going in there?”

“Yeah.” Carter took a step into the apartment and closed the door behind Max, who had his box.

Carter threw his keys onto a small table and surveyed his home. High ceilings, wooden floors, and cream and brown furniture. His vintage guitar collection remained on the walls along with the black-and-white photographs from a local artist he’d collected over the years. Ornamental Harley and Triumph parts scattered the apartment, shining in the sun that swept in through the ten-foot-tall windows.

Max had arranged a cleaner to visit once a week while Carter was in prison, to make sure everything was just so.

“The place looks good, right?” Max asked.

Carter smiled. “Yeah, it does. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem.” He moved around to the large double stainless steel fridge and opened it to display a large stock of alcohol. “Surprise,” he said with a laugh. “Just for you, my friend.” He opened two bottles of beer and handed one to an amused Carter.

“To your freedom,” Max said solemnly as they clinked their bottlenecks and then took a gulp. Carter had never been happier that alcohol wasn’t prohibited as part of his parole conditions, even at ten in the morning.

He belched loudly in appreciation and grinned. “I needed that.”

Max handed him another. “So, Carter, free man extraordinaire, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

Carter sipped his beer thoughtfully. “Well, I need a goddamn shower. And a haircut and a good sleep in my own bed.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Carter, is that the best you can come up with?”

“No.” His face became serious. “I want to see my baby.”

Max grinned.

“Is she okay?” Carter asked. “Have you taken care of her?”

“She’s fucking gorgeous and, yes, I treated her as if she were my own.”

“Take me to her.”

He followed Max out of his apartment and galloped down the stairs of the building toward the private underground garage. Max flicked on the light switch and Carter gasped when he saw his pride and joy, looking so fucking spectacular, she took his breath away.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered.

He reached out to let the tips of his fingers touch the pristine leather seat of the black Harley-Davidson Sportster. Kala. He swallowed hard when he grasped her handlebars. It’d been too long. Max whistled and, as Carter turned, threw the Harley’s keys at him, which he caught against his chest. “She looks awesome, Max. Thank you.”

“She’s had an oil change and a polish. I did it myself, of course; I wouldn’t let those greasy-pawed dogs at the body shop anywhere near her, as much as they whined.”

Carter brushed his knuckles across the V-twin engine reverently. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed riding. A luscious image of his Peaches straddling his bike with her knees tight against his ribs as they rode to the coast, holding on to him while he pushed the bike hard and fast, slid lusciously into his mind. He discreetly adjusted himself and stood from his crouched position at the side of Kala, once more letting his hands glide over her exquisite metal.

“I’ll see your fine ass later,” he promised before he walked back over to Max and back up the stairs of the building.

“Okay, man, I have things to see and people to do.” Max smiled, leaning against Carter’s apartment door.

Carter frowned. His friend had aged considerably over the past few months. There were lines on his face that hadn’t been there before. “You stay out of shit, you hear me?”

Max scoffed. “Everything’s cool, man.” But the glaze in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Max ran a hand through his dark, unruly hair and smiled nonchalantly. “Things are handled. No point getting stressed, right? I’ve learned that I can’t control shit.” He sniffed.

“Max—”

Max clapped a hand to Carter’s shoulder. “I’ll be back later with food and women. About seven, okay?”

Carter sighed, holding his tongue. “Sounds good.” He and Max clasped hands and stared at each other for a moment in silent understanding.

“It is good to have ya home, man,” Max muttered.

“It feels good.”

Max squeezed Carter’s hand. “For what you did for me and— To get put away when you weren’t even … I can’t ever thank you enough—”

“Hey,” Carter interrupted. “It’s all good, brother. I owed you.”

Max exhaled hard, anguish and heartbreak clear on his face. “Yeah. I’ll see ya later.”

Once Max left, Carter closed the door and fell against it with a loud sigh. He glanced around his apartment, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. At Kill he’d had a routine, a schedule, people to tell him when and where he needed to be. Now he was free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. Within reason. It felt strange.

With a despondent exhale, he glanced at the clock on the wall and his mind instantly went to Peaches. She’d be in class right now with Riley and company.

Outrageously, jealousy bloomed in his stomach. “Get a grip, idiot,” he muttered. He grabbed his beer from the counter and made his way to his bedroom.

He’d have Peaches all to himself come Tuesday evening, anyway. He smiled while he stripped off his clothes and made his way to the shower. He was more than ready to wash away all remnants of Kill from both his body and his mind.

12

Kat pulled her bag up onto her shoulder as she made her way into the library. She walked toward the grand welcome desk and smiled at Mrs. Latham, who’d worked at the library for decades. She was there the day the Daniel Lane Reading Room opened after his passing.