Rein In (Willow Bay Stables #3)(41)

Anthony “Glitch” Johnstone was arrested on parole violations and pled guilty to kidnapping charges. Three years were taken off his brother’s sentence in exchange for his testimony against the Hounds of Hell Motorcycle Club. He died in a prison riot the day before he was set to be transferred to Fraser Valley Community Correctional. The authorities suspect it was a hit carried out by Hyde Murphy, former president of the Hounds of Hell Motorcycle Club, but no one could prove it.

Robert “Fun Bobby” Karlson completed his twelve-month probation at Equine for Hearts and now works as a club promoter in Toronto. Last month, he was awarded his eighteen-month chip at Narcotics Anonymous and is expecting a baby with his girlfriend, Kailee Pratt, next spring.

Hank “Dirt” Armstrong is currently completing his second twelve-month term at Equine for Hearts. He is attending night classes at the local college where he will graduate with his GED this winter. He hasn’t boosted a car since the day he met Grant.

Josh Farina completed his required six months of community service with Aurora Daniels at Equine for Hearts and was accepted into a school for talented young artists. He now volunteers of his own accord at Equine for Hearts every other Sunday.

Earlier this month, Grant testified at the parole hearing of Marcus Kincaid, the boy who was now a man who murdered his daughter. Based on that testimony, Marcus will be granted early parole in January two thousand and seventeen. He will be released into the custody of Equine for Hearts for a court-ordered period of twelve months. He refers to Grant as his second chance.

Rhys “Crow” White was arrested on parole violations and was required to serve the remainder of his sentence at the Edmonton Remand Center. He is being released today.





The autumn chill lay just around the bend, in the end of September air, and I rubbed away the cold from my arms with the palms of my hands as I watched the side door, waiting.

It had been thirteen months since Rhys was arrested. Which meant it had been thirteen months since the day I was kidnapped.

When he and Grant saved me, Rhys broke parole on three separate counts.

During his sentencing, he pled guilty to all of them and has since served his time without objection.

I wrote to him seven days a week for the entire span of his sentence and every Sunday, I got to see him through a two-inch plastic window for exactly thirty minutes.

Don’t go and romanticise the notion. Loving a man behind bars wasn’t easy. There were at least half a dozen nights a month that I spent crying myself to sleep and at least another three I spent holding Maddy while she did the same.

There were days I exhausted myself defending him to loved ones and even strangers. There were days I spent so sure I would die from missing him. There were days where my body could barely manage the absence of his arms holding me.

But we survived.

Somehow our light found a way to shine through, even in the dark.

My family did the best they could, but it was hard for them to understand. It was only really Grant who seemed to miss Rhys even a fraction as much as I did.

That was okay, though.

With what they’d both done to save me, what Rhys had sacrificed, that had condemned them both to a lifetime of praise in my father’s eyes. In a way, the reason he’d been arrested for the second time was Rhys’ road to redemption.

His road to closure.

And I hoped he’d found it.

The side door opened and my heart leapt forward at the sight of its home.

Home.

He waited as the guards buzzed him into the walkway and excitement stirred in my soul.

This would be another moment in our history, one that would make the norms of our society cringe but the flutter in our hearts rise.

It was our story, after all.

The heel of his motorcycle boots crunched through the leaves on the ground, and the faded black of his Metallica T-shirt caught the light just right.

There, like always, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

I couldn’t wait.

My hips shoved off the truck as he pushed his aviators onto the bridge of his nose, and the last buzzer sounded as he slid that leather jacket onto his shoulders.

My stomach fluttered.

Almost here.

I broke into a run as the last gate opened.

He dropped the manila envelope in his hands to the ground, and I threw myself into his arms.

The way his face buried into my neck sealed off the pain of these last thirteen months.

Our bodies shuddered, and I felt the rhythm of his chest intertwine with mine.

Lifting his head, his eyes searched mine.

I knew what they would find.

Home.

You have to rein in the trials that weigh on your heart. How else, of course, will it find a home?

Home.

This was my home, in his arms.

“I missed the sun,” he whispered against my lips just before he kissed me.



THE END.