"Ouch, Hope, don't freaking touch it," I groaned, flinching from Hope's touch.

"Why did you do that, Teegs?" Hope asked me in a voice full of concern.

Letting my loose t-shirt drop back down and cover my back, I spun around and faced my friend. "I needed a reminder," was all I replied and it was the truth.

"Of Noah," she said quietly.

"Yeah," I croaked out, forcing down the turbulence of emotions threatening to spill out. "Of Noah."

I WASN'T SURPRISED when the judge pa.s.sed my sentence.

I didn't bat an eyelid.

I just stood slowly, with my hands in chains, and let the officers lead me away.

I purposefully ignored every d.a.m.n person in the courtroom.

I didn't care anymore.

To the outside world, I was emotionless.

Inside, I was dead.

My one consolation lay in the knowledge that George Dennis was gone.

f.u.c.ker had a stroke three days ago and never pulled through.

That piece of news was the only good thing that had come out of his daughter's mouth during her visit the other day. I had thought Ellie wanted to visit to gloat, or pa.s.s on a message from her father. When she cried over her dead daddy and apologized and then cried some more, I felt something break free inside of me. It was like the shackles that had held me down for so many years had been torn off.

George's son and right-hand man JD was still out there somewhere. He'd managed to escape arrest that night, but with father dead, and his gang either in prison or in hiding, he was weakened. I knew JD wouldn't forget about me, not by a long shot, but right now I was taking one small victory at a time.

I would sleep soundly tonight because the grudge I had feared George was holding had died with him.

The man who knew my weakness was dead.

And my Thorn was safe.

THE REMAINDER OF SPRING pa.s.sed in a hazy blur, and by the time summer arrived, Hope and I were settling back into the Irish culture and lifestyle. We had found ourselves a nice little bedsit close to Salt Hill where we had lived contently for the past three months, but one visit from Hope's parents last week, and it was decided that our living quarters weren't close to being good enough for their only daughter.

Mr. Carter made a few phone calls and one night's packing and a four-hour drive later we found ourselves standing in the sw.a.n.kiest bachelorette pad ever in the Rebel County.

I wasn't friends with Hope for the money, but the fact that her dad was loaded with cash didn't hurt. Personally, I would have preferred to stay in Galway, but I was homeless and the Carter's had the money, so it was their call.

"I can't believe you actually own this place," I told my best friend as I unpacked a box of towels. "This is insane." It wasn't a huge apartment two bedrooms, with one bathroom and a kitchen/lounge but it was beautiful and in a really safe part of the city. This place made our bedsit look like a cow shed. "Most nineteen year old girls get hair straighteners for their birthday, Hope. You get a property."

"You know what my father says," Hope huffed as she balanced a gigantic box against her thigh, lowering it onto our brand new coffee table, matching our brand new L shaped couch. "Rent money is dead money." Dropping the box on the table, Hope stretched her back and let out a sigh. "This isn't a freebie, Teegs, and I'm not accepting this place as a birthday gift either. I'll pay him back."

"I don't think he minds, Hope," I a.s.sured her, holding back on the sarcasm. Being in debt to her dad was a touchy subject for Hope. She hated getting handouts. For a daddy's girl, she was unusually independent and incredibly self-sufficient.

"I mind, Teagan," Hope shot back, "I..."

Hope's phone went off and she dropped everything she was doing before bolting down the hallway towards her bedroom.

Of course, I knew why she was rushing to get to the phone. It was the same reason Mr. and Mrs. Carter had flown back to the states instead of helping us move.

Noah was being sentenced today.

When I thought about Noah locked away in some s.h.i.tty penitentiary half way across the world my chest squeezed so tightly I could barely draw a breath.

A huge chunk of me wanted to board the next flight just to be there for him, to support him and love him; but then I remembered what he had done to me and I shut those feelings down. I couldn't feel sorry for him, it would break me, and I couldn't cry for him because if I did, if I let myself mourn, I would never stop.

"TEAGAN, LOOK AT ME. Look at me." Noah's eyes were red and pained. "This is not your fault. Do you understand me? This is my fault, baby, and you're not going down for it."

The sound of sirens blasted through my ears and panic tore through me.

Noah hissed out a sharp breath. "The second this belt cracks, I want you to get out of this car and run." He caught my chin between his fingers. "Do not stop running. Do not wait for me."

I ran and ran until every breath left my body until I couldn't run any further.

Hiding behind a boulder on the side of the dirt road, I sank to my knees and wept.

Noah...

What was going to happen to him?

Oh G.o.d, I shouldn't have left him there. I was a horrible person.

Every fiber of my being demanded I go back there and help him, do something, anything... but I couldn't move.

I was frozen in fear.

In shock.

I must have stood in our kitchen for half an hour, frozen to the spot; waiting, wishing, hoping and praying until, finally, I couldn't take anymore.

Walking down our short hallway, I opened the first door on the right and let myself inside. Hope was sitting on her bed, looking as numb as I felt. When she noticed my presence, she wiped her eyes and smiled brightly. "Hey babe," she whispered, patting her bed.

Walking over to Hope's bed, I climbed up and sat cross-legged, facing her. And then I asked the question I had been telling myself I didn't need to know. "How long did he get?"

Hope stared at me for a long moment, chewing on her lip in deliberation, before finally answering me. "Five and a half years."

I swear to G.o.d, the moment those words came out of Hope's mouth, my heart shriveled up and died in my chest.

"That long?" I managed to squeeze out, as my breath came in short, fast puffs. "But I thought the lawyers were going to..."

"It didn't work out that way," she interrupted quickly. Taking my hand in hers, Hope smiled sadly. "Noah got himself into some more trouble and broke the conditions of his bail," she told me. "He's been in custody since we arrived here."

"Is...is he okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know, Teagan," Hope replied. "He stopped all contact with my family over a month ago says it's easier that way. They went to court today, but he won't see my father. He won't even let Logan visit, and they were best friends."

"I don't know how to deal with this," I admitted, voice torn. "I want to be there for him. I don't want him to go through all of this on his own. I want...him. But I can't get past what I saw," I confessed, my words barely more than a whisper. "In my dreams it still haunts me, Hope. The image of her naked, sweat soaked body pumping my boyfriend, grinding her p.u.s.s.y all over him, taking him into her body... Oh G.o.d, saying the words out loud makes me feel physically sick."

"Don't," Hope ordered, reaching out and grabbing my hand. "Don't you dare torture yourself like this."

"I'm still in love him, Hope...even though he's dangerous and wrong for me and broke my heart for kicks," I choked out. "He's the love of my life." Tears spilled down my cheeks. "He is everything and I love him...all the time. It won't go away. I am stuck in a never-ending cycle of loving him, losing him, missing him, hating him, mourning him, waiting for him, and caring. It won't stop and I can't claw my way out. I feel like I am dying."

And then I admitted to my best friend my darkest thought the thought that made me hate myself more than I hated him. "Sometimes I regret leaving him." Clasping the back of my head with my hands, I fought to catch my breath. "Sometimes I think that I would have been better off staying with Noah and letting him treat me the way he did letting him cheat on me. Because at least then I would still have him and not this empty f.u.c.king hole in my life." Shaking my head in self-loathing, I looked straight into her eyes. "How pathetic does that make me?"

"Noah f.u.c.king Messina," Hope muttered after a long pause.

"Yeah," I half laughed, half cried, "Noah f.u.c.king Messina."

TIME IN PRISON Pa.s.sED BY A LOT differently; long, f.u.c.king hard days. The only thing I took comfort in was my anger and the only thing that kept me company was my thirst for revenge.

Today marked my first month down out of a five and a half year prison sentence and the third month since I'd been remanded in custody for breaking my bail conditions.

Four of those years were my punishment for my involvement in the Ring of Fire. The remaining eighteen months were courtesy of the man in front of me who, in true a.s.shole fashion, had pressed charges on me for breaking and entering.

"I must say, Messina, the orange jumpsuit becomes you."

I clenched my fists and fought the urge to lunge across the table to rip Teagan's uncle's throat out.

That b.a.s.t.a.r.d loved this.

"What are you doing here, Max?" I ground out through clenched teeth. Everything about the man p.i.s.sed me off. His crisp gray suit. His face. His f.u.c.king att.i.tude.

Since my sentencing last month, I hadn't seen a soul from the outside world. I had warned them not to come here. I needed to get used to my new life and having the Carter's visiting me was just too f.u.c.king painful. I didn't want their pity.

Having this dips.h.i.t here only added salt to my wounds. The fact that he had added eighteen months onto my sentence with his stupid f.u.c.king claims enraged me.

"Besides reveling in the fact that you're behind bars?" Max taunted as he leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I'm here to discuss my niece."

"What about her?" I found myself straightening in my seat, edging forward, perking up. "Is she okay?" I couldn't pretend I didn't care about Teagan. She had been my every thought for the last three months and hearing her name ruined me. Jesus Christ, I missed her so much. I was dying in here. I was dying without her. But my reaction gave Max exactly what he wanted.

Power over me.

"You were never good enough for her," Max told me, setting a stack of envelopes on the table before pushing them towards me. "And you never will be."

I knew the poorly written scrawl on each envelope. They were my pathetic attempt at contacting my girlfriend.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to stop my hands from trembling, before reaching forward and taking the half a dozen letters.

I felt like a fool for mailing them to Thirteenth Street, but I didn't have any other option. That was the only address I had for her, and I guess deep down I had hoped that Teagan would somehow get them, read my truth, and come back to me.

I was used to being let down f.u.c.king thrown to the wolves but with Teagan, it was different. She wouldn't leave me here to rot. She would come back. I had to believe she was coming back; if I didn't, I wouldn't f.u.c.k survive this.

"You can't keep her away from me," I said vehemently, f.u.c.king desperately as I balled the envelopes in my hand. Lee had told me to have faith. Well, I was trying. Problem was, all my faith was tied up in Teagan Connolly changing her mind about me. "She'll come around," I hissed, as rage bubbled inside of me. "What we have is real."

"What you had," Max corrected with a smirk. "And do you see her anywhere? No, of course you don't. Because she saw your true colors and has come to her senses." Smiling, he added, "Forget about my niece, Noah. By the time you're out of this place she'll be married with children."

I watched numbly as Max shoved his chair back and stood. "Enjoy your stay," he told me, plucking at the sleeves of his jacket. "You're exactly where an animal like you belongs. In a cage."

MAX SAID THAT I HAD LOST Teagan and she was gone from me forever but I refused to believe that.

There had to be a way back for us.

Back in my cell, I tossed the poorly written letters on my table with too much force and watched as they scattered onto the floor. Then I proceeded to grab the mattress off my bed and drag it over to the wall.

Setting the piece of s.h.i.t against the cold stone of my cell, I pummeled it, executing precise blows, pretending I was rearranging that a.s.shole's face.

I hated that b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

I f.u.c.king hated him.

Max was right about one thing though I was a f.u.c.king animal.

But I didn't have to be.

I could change my ways, make things right. Get an education and find a trade. I was never going to be a doctor, but surely I could f.u.c.king do something with my life? A construction worker or a plumber something with my hands.

I just had to make it out of this place in one piece.

"Well I've heard some folk like to fluff their pillows, but I think you're taking it to an extreme, Messina."

I swung around when the sound of my cellmate's voice infiltrated my mind.

Lucky Casarazzi stood in the doorway of our cell with his s.h.a.ggy blonde hair styled, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and his tattoo covered arms crossed over his chest. He had a deep frown set on his face as he studied me with wary ice blue eyes. In truth, the guy looked like he belonged on a stage somewhere, headlining a rock concert, rather than slumming it in a prison cell with me.

But from the limited conversations we'd had since my arrival, I knew better than to judge him based on his appearance. He had shed the blood of a man, the same as me, and at the age of twenty-three had served my entire five and a half year sentence already. The guy was the best kind of bad you could find in a place like this.

"I'm working something out here, man," I snarled, turning my attention back to my target, continuing my rampage. "Just give me a d.a.m.n minute."

Holding his hands up in the air, Lucky shook his head and muttered, "Have at it, man." Stepping around me, he pulled himself onto the top bunk and settled down on his back. Tucking his arms behind his head, he let out a contented sigh. "So, is she a blonde or a brunette?"

Stopping what I was doing, I turned to face him. "What?"

"The girl you're losing your s.h.i.t over," he replied calmly, staring up at the ceiling. "Is she a blonde or a brunette?"

Suddenly all the fight was gone from me. Dragging my mattress back onto the bunk, I sank down on the edge and let out a heavy sigh. "Blonde."

Lucky chuckled. "Thought so." Swinging his legs off the top bunk, he jumped down and sat down beside me. "Brunettes make you lose your head," he went on to say, offering me a smoke first and then a light when I accepted. "Reds break your bed." He inhaled a deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "But blondes? Blondes land your a.s.s in a place like this." Lucky shook his head. "Blondes steal your soul, Messina."

I grunted in response, taking a deep drag. "You get f.u.c.ked over by a blonde or something, Lucky?" Flicking my ash on the floor, I rubbed my boot on it, smudging it away.

"Something like that," he responded, eyes darkening, as he stared straight ahead.

"SAY THAT AGAIN?" I ASKED Hope begged. "Please, just say it again, and tell me you're not joking."