There’s an ache in my chest that gets tighter and tighter with every breath that I take, making the memories of the past seem that much more real. As hard as I fight to push the feeling aside, it can’t be ignored. I know this, and I hate it with everything in me.

A part of me knows that I need to just pack up and get out of this shit town, leaving this house and everyone I used to know behind me, but my heart won’t let me leave without knowing that Alex is safe. I always told him I’d protect him no matter what, and I meant it.

When I was locked up I asked my mother to promise me one thing: to never let Alex find a way to visit me no matter how hard he tried. She kept that promise. I didn’t want him worrying about how I was doing or beating himself up over what happened that night. I saw the guilt in his eyes as they dragged me away, and I have to admit that hurt more than anything else.

That and my mother . . .

Thoughts of her cause my throat to feel as if it’s on fire. I swallow hard, trying to push the feeling away, but it only seems to burn more. I need to go visit her, but I think I need a little more time before opening that wound. That will be sure to send me over the edge.

I push away from the wall and head down the hallway to Alex’s room; at least the one he was using before I left. Opening the door, I flip on the light and take a look around. There’s got to be something here that will tell me where he’s been: a phone number or a letter, something. He wouldn’t just leave town knowing my release date was coming up. I would like to believe that anyway, but who the fuck knows, a lot can change in someone over a period of time.

I toss around all the papers on his desk and look in the drawers, leaving a huge mess in my wake just to come up empty handed. I have searched every other place in this house and have found nothing. I’m fuming and I suddenly feel as if I’m suffocating. I need to just get the fuck out of here and fast. It’s too much too soon.

Rushing out of his room and through the house, I slip on my leather jacket and make my way into the garage to uncover my old Harley. I fucking love this motorcycle. It took me a shit ton of fights to save up enough money for it, and it took even more fights for me to keep it in one piece. It’s a huge part of who I am, and having it within my grasp almost makes me feel like the old me again, or at least the one I used to be.

Grabbing my helmet, I straddle my bike before revving the engine a few times to be sure she’s running good. It sputters a bit before roaring to life. That could only mean that Alex has done a little work on her since I’ve been gone. She’s good to go. I can’t help but to feel a rush; the realization of freedom creeping in.

Pulling out of the garage, I click the door shut behind me and stop to pull my helmet on. I don’t have a clue where I’m going. All I know is that I need to be anywhere but here.

My eyes linger over to the house next door when I hear some voices followed by laughter. My eyes lock with the green eyed beauty that doesn’t seem to know shit about privacy.

She’s dressed up in a little gray dress, showing off her long, toned legs and tattoos that she has spread out between both arms. Her caramel colored hair is curled and brushed over to one shoulder, making her look sexy and seductive. In other words, fucking sinfully tempting.

She and some of her friends are walking over to a black car, but she keeps her eyes focused solely on me, making my heart race and my palms sweat. The depth of her stare is almost impossible to look away from, even though I know that I should. She’s already pushed my boundaries, but she’s gotten as close I’m willing to allow. I’m not used to letting anyone in and I’m definitely not starting now, especially since I don’t plan on sticking around for long.

I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone living in that house. I spent most of my teen years staying there alone. My father made it seem like it was a good thing, like it was a fucking gift, when really he just wanted me out of his way. Just the sight of me repulsed him. To him, nothing I did was good enough. With him being the town’s Sheriff you would have expected him to be a good man, or even a decent man, when in actuality he was anything but that. I expected the good, I even wanted it, but was disappointed over and over again.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I turn away from her stare, pull out of the driveway, and ride aimlessly until I feel as if I can breathe again. It seems like it takes forever, but I eventually feel a little bit of relief. Not much . . . but some.

As much as I would like to be alone, you never really are in this shitty town. Everyone knows each other, which leads to personal and private information being bared for everyone to see. It’s one of the main reasons I wanted to escape here in the first place. I’ve never truly been free, even before I got locked up.

After a while, I find myself pulled over at the end of the alley, staring at my old hang out spot. It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere, hidden away from the main drag at the center of town. It’s as close to alone as I’ll get. By nightfall this place will be packed with people.

From the time I turned fifteen I spent every single weekend here, and even some nights during the week. It was my only release from the fucked up shit happening in my life at the time. Even though I was always put in danger here, it was the only place I truly felt at peace, as well as the only place that allowed me to let out all my frustration and breathe.

Standing here now, makes every muscle in my body tense as I imagine the release this place once brought me. The pain that coursed through my body with every blow that I took and the alleviation that I felt with each swing.

Here, I was unstoppable. I didn’t have to stop and think about anything. All I had to do was let the heat pump through my veins and release the beast that was becoming harder and harder to tame. It became something that I couldn’t survive without, and because of that I hurt a lot of people, letting down even more of them.

Grinding my jaw, I growl out in frustration before hopping back on my motorcycle and riding. I ride for a bit, lost in thought before heading toward Blue’s Bar and Grill—the last place I should probably show my face, but I need a little escape before I lose the little bit of control I have left.

When I get to Blue’s—the parking lot is almost full; not that it’s a very big lot, but for it being a Monday night it’s packed as shit. I park my motorcycle in the far back and ignore the outgoing traffic of people as I make my way inside. A few people stop to look at me, but I stay straight ahead and keep moving.