

### Driven by Desire

~~~

### David Manoa

Copyright 2017 David Manoa

Smashwords Edition

v.2.8

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The author asserts the moral right to be identified as

the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, information storage and retrieval systems, or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from the author, with the exception of a book reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

~~~~~~

Included in this edition is _Iridescence_ an interlinked story at the end of this feature.

Click here to access.

Connor Rourke

_Brooke is everything to me. This angel that came into my life lifting me from the ashes of my broken life. I needed her, and I denied myself the kindness which emanated from her soul. I didn't deserve her. Desolation was my keeper. I would shoot daggers from my_ eyes, _and in_ return, _she smiled back with love. It was infectious, and soon I was paralyzed by it. Then I was driven by it. That Desire for her never changed._

_-_ Connor _3 years ago._

I was born into sin. My whole life predetermined by the wretched family I was given to. I knew in my heart all roads would lead to this. A place where honor is set aside for greed and ambition. Lying on the concrete, in the carpark of Fight Club 88, blood pools by my mouth. My breathing tense, my left lung feels like it's punctured. I hear screams and the cracking sound of gunfire. I'm disorientated, feeling weak. My mind fogged. I taste metallic copper, my blood filling in my throat. I lift my head to see the moon reflecting in the puddle. I see my reflection, my teeth coated red, blood dripping to my chin. I peer up to the brazen streetlight to focus my vision. There is moths circling by the light. I blink. My left eye bruised closed almost shut. Pain spiraling all over my body. Then the earsplitting cracking of gunfire erupts again. Bullets whiz past and over me peppering my gray Landrover. Shards of metal and glass fall on me. Tracer fire lights up the night.

"Get em outta here!" I hear. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

I am lifted by my men, to my feet. To my left Tommy "Reaper" Lachlan, my Sargent in arms and on my right Lance Vinsmoke my Vice President.

"Jesus Tommy, we gotta take him to the hospital!" Lance said, he has a gash on the side of his Mohawk. His bulky six foot five frame with sleeve tattoos, arms as big as pythons carry me forward.

"No hospitals." I groan, "Ah, Fuck! We gotta get to Brooke."

"Too late Connor. Those fucking Copperheads took her." Lance said.

Copperheads. Shit. The gang formed by my adopted father Demetrius Rourke when the Black Snakes split into two. How the fuck did this happen? I clutched Tommy's vest when I'm thrown into the back seat of the Land Rover. The rear window shatters, glass scatters all over me. I'm shunted into the back as I hear the chirp then screech of the rear wheels as we propel forward turning sharply onto the street.

"Go! Go! Go!" Tommy screams looking back. His baby blue eyes widen, and his black shoulder length hair is matted with blood and dust.

I squeeze my eyes and null out the pain. I hear the wind entering the cabin.

"Jesus Tommy, what the heck happened?" I asked.

"I dunno Connor." He muttered in his Irish accent. "They knew about the drop. They knew about Brooke."

"We got to get to her." I groaned.

"How Connor? Half of them are in fucking prison! They are scattered like insects." Tommy said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Cops! Cops! Cops! Floor it, Tommy!" Lance screamed.

I coughed, my breathing went to painful wheeze. I hear sirens, and I peer up to the sky to see the Eagle One Police helicopter shine a beam light behind us. I squeeze my eyes again. I see the police road block ahead, see fluorescent figures and blue and red lights then the vertigo set in, I blanked out.

***

Brooke Winters

When I met Connor, I knew my life would change. There was goodness in him which was embedded deep within the anger. Something that attracted me to him knowing I can bring it out of him. But his father continued to poison his thinking with hate and lies. Even though Connor is his own man. There were only two people who could withstand his piercing stares. His father Demetrius and me.

\- Brooke 3 years ago

It all happened so quickly. I'm bound by the wrists and ankles like a pig waiting to be slaughtered. The tension is so blistering tight. My head is throbbing, my memory staggered and mixed. I can't remember how I got here. I open my eyes to see the cracked concrete floor. There are pock marks and trash everywhere. I see clumps of my brown hair, I touch the back of my skull to feel my ponytail. Or what was left of it. I look up to see the fluorescent lights dangling by chains to the ceiling. I smell the scent of something acrid burning.

I see the circle of motorcycles surround me. A pit bull terrier being held back by a chain hooked to a concrete post, snarls, and barks as I gain consciousness. There are men sitting on their bikes, faces obscured by the darkness. I hear them talk, snicker and scream. The rumble of their engines reverberates throughout the building shaking the dust in the ceilings. I hear a large wolf whistle above the sound. The motorcycles stop revving then the sounds cease.

I see a man walk towards me, black leather boots kick away the debris and broken glass. I look up, his face! I can't recognize the face and the bright headlights are making me squint. He's familiar... Tall. Menacing. He steps into the light. A man with the familiar black vest. Grey hair, square jaw, and beady brown eyes. Sleeve tattoos on both muscled arms. Copperhead snakes. Argh! Demetrius Rourke.

He's holding a cigarette, the ash built up, and the hot red ember faint. He kneels down and holds it in his thumb and forefinger, he presses it against my cheek. It sizzles...

"Ow!"

He grabs me by the cheeks and squeezes. His large hand, the size of my head, feels if he could crush my head into pulp. His fingernails are like claws, dirty and sharp.

Demetrius hisses, "Who thought that cunt of yours could split a million dollar motorcycle club eh?" he groans, "All my hard work word incinerated because my son listened to you."

I spit, "He's not your son!"

Demetrius shoves me back into the concrete and stands. Taking out a gun.

"What should it be whore?" he hissed, "One in the head or should I throw you to the dogs..." I hear the men grunt and bark like animals. They shuffle closer, the shadow of grotesque looking men approach. "Listen to the hunger, Seems like the boys want you... and believe me, you can only imagine what they will do to you. They will tear you. Defile your body that Connor won't want to touch you ever again."

"Connor is coming for me asshole. You know him! He will search the ends of the earth for me."

"Sounds romantic." He laughs, "I could never understand his fascination for you. Ha. I mean obsession. He had the chance to take the Black Snakes into a new era without Vitaly's oversight. Without that greedy fat cop John fucking Dillinger. Let Connor chase his own tail. I implored diplomacy, but he never listened. The idiot wanting to walk away from our lucrative meth operation to pursue legitimate business interests. All his decisions are a comedy of errors and misjudgment." He nods to one of the bikers who is sipping on his bottle Jim Bean, he throws it, and Demetrius catches it. He takes a swig then kneels down. "Do you see these mongrels around me, did you think in that pea brain of yours, think these guys can run businesses?

I cough, "It was only going to be a matter of time before the cops shut us down. It was a logical decision to invest the money into the business a fresh start."

"Growing fucking potatoes? Woman, the amount of bull you are talking makes me want to shit down your fucking throat. We had that chance to a new start, but you kept putting ideas in his head. Typical woman manipulating my son."

I said nothing.

"Well? Speak whore!"

"How can you keep doing it? Running meth still after losing your wife, Sarah? Is it all worth it?" I said, "God damn it, Demetrius, she was pregnant."

His lips quiver, he squeezes his eyes. "Shut the fuck up. She would have never been shot if hadn't been for Connor hesitating at the drop."

"Don't you dare put this on him! You set it up at first place, she had no right to be there for god sakes the whole thing was a setup. The cops were there."

"Well, it's too late now to grieve over dead bones. It is what it is." He lifts the bottle for another swig. "Ah... you want some?" I shake my head. "It will help null the pain when each one of the boys takes their turn on that ass of yours."

He reaches out tugging at my shirt, he grabs my breast. Eliciting the most disgusting feeling which makes me squirm. Like a spider clinging to my chest.

Connor!

Where are you!

He cuts the cable ties and rips all my clothes, I'm left in my panties. He lifts me up. And pours the rest of the bottle on my head. The amber liquid soaks me, I squeeze my eyes as I hear the laughs from the men.

Demetrius grabs me again, "Listen to me slut. I need Connor to rally his contacts to let me push my product into his territories. Get that thought out your mind of him ever protecting you cause like the flick of a switch... I swooped down and took you like you were a baby."

He wrenches me up and takes my arm. Pulling it in the opposite direction.

He hisses, "Be glad it's not your neck.

SNAP

I scream from the excruciating pain of my arm being dislocated. I drop to floor looking at the others as they start kicking me. I curl up, knees protecting my stomach. _Knees protecting my stomach. Protect my stomach..._ Boots striking me. Cruel laughs. _Connor!_

***

Connor Rourke

The way she said my name, the tone or intention behind it held my attention. Even more when she moaned whispering it when I would make love to her. It would send my heart into the sky, lighting the inky night. This was all too good be true when I was deep inside her. Two bodies becoming one... her screaming my name.

\- 3 years ago.

Connor!

I wake to the beat of the beep. A pulsing sound which mimics my heartbeat. I open one eye to see the white walls, blood pressure, and heart monitors. There is a faint sterile disinfectant smell. My mouth is covered by some mask I am breathing through. I squint towards the window with the Auckland Sky Tower blinking with green and red light. I feel numb. I try to move when I see my wrists handcuffed to the rail. I'm connected to an intravenous drip. I shake when I see my ankles tied. I look ahead under a TV a big brown man stands from the chair. A cop.

A Familiar cop.

The one who was there when Sarah died. The one who shot her.

He steps forward half his body is in the light. His black hair spiked with faded sides, and a brown face brings back memories. Six foot three and still one muscled hunk of beef. He is wearing his standard issue vest. Black t-shirt with his badge attached by a chain around his neck. He smoothes his bristly jaw, touching the scar on his right eye. He holds the sides of the bed. His face lowers. His teeth gritted while he pulled the mask off me. My breathing gets heavy, I'm gasping for air.

"Cockroach, been a long time hasn't it?" he said in a hoarse voice.

"Fuck you cop."

"The name is Detective, Tevita Suarvea, cockroach."

"Cop is easier to pronounce, fucking Fob."

He pushes his finger into the wound in my shoulder. "Argh!!"

"I speak better English than you dickhead. Tell me what the fuck happened at Fight Club 88?"

"I don't know anything."

"Horseshit, you were seen being shot at by the Copperheads before you and your two cocksucking buddies gapped it in your SUV. It was every man for themselves when I ran you assholes off the road. My partner is bringing them to station for questioning, but I know _you_ are the one with answers I want."

"I don't know anything."

"Bullshit."

He presses his finger into my wound making the pain excruciating. The pulse on monitor beats faster.

"Ah man, I don't know anything!" I say, "Nurse!"

"You should be calling for Jesus you prick!"

He pushed harder I could see his veins popping from his large forearms. The door opened, and another cop came in a female. He stopped. Stepping back slyly.

"Did you get them, Kid?" The Detective said to her.

"No. We lost them."

He raised a brow.

"I lost them."

"Shit!"

"Rooks, they found her."

"Where is she?"

"An abandoned warehouse south of here. The ambulance is treating her." She says, "What you get from him?" pointing at me.

My heart beats faster, _Her..._ "Brooke! Is she ok?"

The female cop says nothing. Glancing at my cuffs, he turns to the cop.

"Well, Rooks?" The female says.

"Nothing. Maybe I should stick the oxygen tube up his ass to get him talking."

"Leave him, we got to move Brooke into protective custody."

"Hey!" I say, "Where is she? Hey! Let me go!"

The cop turns, "Eat a dick."

***

The cops leave, and I start to shake to free myself. The leather restraints and cuffs restrict my movement. Minutes pass. A feeling of dread hit me knowing my sweetheart Brooke is hurt. I scream when the nurse comes in with an off-duty officer. I struggle with the rail when the officer holds me down.

Suddenly Tommy and Lance come in, Tommy pulls the cop back, and head-butts him, making him fall to the floor. Lance grabs the keys and unlocks my cuffs. I push myself off the bed. Rubbing my wrists.

"How you get here?" I asked.

"Tommy lost the cops, and we followed them here. Our bikes are in the carpark."

"Good, I know where Brooke is, but I gotta get there first before the detective does."

"We have the advantage now ha-ha." Tommy grins.

"Huh?"

"We slashed the tires of the police car we followed and the other ones too."

"Good stuff."

We bolt out of the room and take the emergency exit heading down the stairs into the carpark. I feel the cold wind blowing through my gown. I approach Lance's, Harley.

"I'm borrowing it for now. Give me your phone too. Ride with Tommy and head back to the club.

"But boss!"

"Do it. Assemble the men. I'm going after Demetrius. Once I know, she's safe."

Lance says, "Connor there's too much heat. You can't risk getting her if the police and ambulance are there now! They don't have shit on her. Hold on, till she gets released."

I accelerate, there is no time to listen to reason.

***

I knew the warehouse out south, where they took Brooke to. Located on Te-Irirangi Drive, East Tamaki. I purchased the place as a storage facility for the meth we wanted to store from the proposed lab. It never eventuated after we split and Demetrius still kept the keys. I took the motorway heading southeast towards Highbrook motorway.

Oh shit!

I arrive to see the paramedics tend to Brooke, I see the presence of two cop cars checking out the scene. I switch off the motorcycle and bury it in bushes. I pull out my pistol and wait near the front of the ambulance. I watch as they put Brooke into the back before the paramedic walked to the driver's side.

WHACK!

I strike the paramedic with the butt of the gun and pull him into the bushes. I jump into the driver's seat and take off. The cops did not see me. But I see in rear view the other paramedic running to them for help. I drive down few miles taking a turn off into a dead end street. I open the back of the ambulance. To see Brooke. In the state, she's in. Dear god, her body's bruised and battered beyond recognition. She smells like alcohol. I pick up my phone and call Tommy. It rings.

"Nothing." No answer on his phone. I see a car, parked in a driveway and I bolt to break into it. Smashing the driver's window, I hotwire it, and I drive it back to the ambulance. I try to wake Brooke.

"Baby, Baby! Wake up! It's me, Connor."

Brook moans, her eyelids flutter then open, she sees me responding with a slow blink and tears pool trickling down to the shell of her ear.

"Connor..." she says in a weak voice. "Is it you?"

I kiss her forehead. "It is. Can you move?"

She nods. I undo the buckle and assist her to sit up.

"God I'm aching all over."

"I swear on my mother's grave. I'm gonna kill all of them!"

"Argh."

"Baby what's wrong?"

"My arm..."

"C'mon get into the car, the cops are gonna be looking for us."

I lift Brooke up, both us, all fucked up to every degree. We get into the car and drive back on the road just passing the speeding police cars heading in the other direction. Brooke is lying in the back seat clutching her arm.

"Ah... my arm is dislocated, Connor. Demetrius snapped it."

"Aw Fuck!" I say, "I swear to god I'm gonna kill this man, Brooke."

"Connor don't. There is a chance now. He let me live. Give him what he wants. Let's go get away from all this. Go to another country if we need to. I'm sick of all this!"

"I'm not running Brooke! Besides the only reason why he didn't kill you is he wants to teach me a lesson. To think that prick can intimidate me! Fuck him. I'll show who's intimidated when I shove the barrel of my pistol down his throat."

Brooke went quiet, clutching her arm. We headed back to the club.

We arrived at Club headquarters. Two prospects Dean and Jae limped to the 8-foot steel gate to meet us. Our fortress... Or what's left of it. The gate is rammed in. The spirals of razor barbed wire are scattered on the ground.

"Shit, what the fuck happened?" I asked.

I get out of the car to bolt to the building.

"Connor! Copperheads busted in. Got us before we all got ready." Dean said.

I looked around, and it was a bloodbath. Bodies lay lifeless. Bikes strewn in pieces all over the ground. The corrugated roof blistered black from the fire. The last thing left of the houses.

"Shit!" I say, "Where's Tommy and Lance?"

"Lance went back for you at the warehouse when they attacked. Tommy's over there."

I looked ahead to see Tommy holding his side. He looked all degrees of fucked up.

"Tommy!"

He holds his hand up "I'm fine lad. Just a scratch but those pansies burned my bike!"

"What happened?"

"They got us as soon as we arrived they smashed through the gate and drove in the fucking lot of them. Throwing Molotov cocktails everywhere!"

I heard the onset of Sirens. Cops will be here any minute.

I say, "We gotta get to the safe house. Get everyone to regroup there."

"Is Brooke ok?" Tommy said with hands on his head.

"Yeah, she's in the back. Take her back to the safe house. I'll head back now to get Lance."

"Connor..." he coughs. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"What?"

I turn to see Lance pull up at the gate riding my bike, he stops. Gets out, his face coated in soot and blood. Lance's eyes widen, "Thank God you're safe Connor! I went back to get you as soon as the Copperheads attacked!"

I turned to Tommy who folded his arms when I saw police cars approaching.

I said. "Everyone back to the safe house. Tommy make sure you get a doctor in to get Brookes' arm checked out. I'll lead the cops away. Lance chuck me the keys."

He passes them, and I catch them. I bolt to the back seat seeing Brooke trying to cope with the pain.

"Baby, Tommy is gonna take you to the safe house, you'll be safe till I come back."

She shakes her head, "No! Come with us."

"No, Cops are almost here, and I need to draw them away."

"Why you Connor!" she coughs, Tommy grabs my arm.

"Let me draw them away boss." He says, "You and Brooke get out of here."

"Jesus Tommy you are bleeding all over the place, Go!"

"Boss don't be a fucking hero you are needed back at the safe house. All will be in vain if they get you."

"Brother I'm good. Trust me." I say, "You know me."

Tommy pauses the background noise of the sirens hastens my order. He nods and gets into the driver's side. I kissed Brooke on her forehead and brushed aside her matted hair. "Brooke I promise I'll be back."

***

Brooke Winters

I squeezed my eyes feeling his kiss. His warmth. Connor. I sat up and watched as he mounted his Harley. He revved the engine, the large rear wheel spun, causing a burnout on the back tire. The screeching noise pierced my ears. Small flames, Smoke, and rubber went everywhere as it obscured and concealed our escape. Tommy slammed the car into gear and drove in the opposite direction. Shunting me back in the seat I turn to see Connor disappear.

We drove south on the southern motorway, The tire noise and bumps on the road got worse as we veered off onto the gravel road to access the safe house on the outskirts of Auckland, in an area called Pukekohe. Connor bought acres of land in a farm to run his thriving potato business. We turned to see the crops being dug up, as we approached the house. I looked at Lance who pointed ahead at the motorcycles and cars parked up on the side of the barn.

"Some of them made it," Lance said. "Jesus it's been years since I was here. Did they ever finish the lab and tunnels?"

"No. the tunnels were done, I think before Connor pulled the plug." Tommy points "Thank God, some are alive." Tommy said, lifting his cross from around his neck to kiss.

Lance was shaking and went into his jacket pocket and took out a pipe. And a pouch of crystal meth.

"The heck are you doing Lance?" Tommy said.

"I need to take the edge off man."

Tommy shook his head. Pulling up the handbrake and switching the ignition off. He speared his black hair matted with sweat and dried blood.

Lance shoved him, "Don't you see what happened today? How many of our brothers died today?"

"So you honor them by getting high. Shit, some fucking VP you are."

Tommy got out of the car and approached one of the prospects. There was a doctor here treating some of the guys. Tommy talks to the doctor and points to me when Lance helps me out of the car.

"Brooke, what did Demetrius say to you when you were with him?" Lance says.

"He wants Connor to resume the distribution of the meth through his channels."

"And you told him this vital piece of info?"

"No, not yet."

"Well wait till he gets back, he'll be calling a meeting."

"I hope he gets back,"

"He will. He is a resilient son of a bitch, for damn sure."

Tommy arrives with the doctor who starts to examine me. Tommy hands me a bottle of water, and I sip before turning my head to Lance who is sitting on the bonnet of car smoking his crack pipe. The pungent scent drifts over making my nose twitch and my eyes water.

"Brooke I need to talk to you," Tommy whispers.

Tommy flicks his eyes to Lance who slides off the bonnet to take a piss in the paddock.

"What?" I asked.

"What happened when they took you?"

"Demetrius told me at the warehouse for Connor to push his product again."

"I know that. I had a feeling Demetrius would take things into own hands when Connor wanted to go on the straight and narrow."

"And how do you, feel about that Tommy?"

"I never flinched or doubted Connors judgment." He says, "When half the Black Snakes defected to join the Copperheads, it was because they followed greed. Connor is a smart man, he knows we can't sustain the meth business for a long period. You Brooke, made him realize that. Short term, it is easy to be blinded by the amount were making, but you get a feeling somebody's coming. Somebody's watching. It's that paranoia I had in Mt Eden prison, Connor has now when it got too easy and the fact that there were too many people in the background taking a cut. Jesus, we didn't know the people who supplied us the meth. It was someone who knows someone. And that's bloody dangerous. That's why Demetrius commissioned the Lab beneath our feet before Connor had a change of heart." Tommy pauses and points at Lance who is digging into the dirt pulling out the potato crops. "That detective is going to hunt whoever it is that chooses to run with the meth, and he is not going to throw people in prison either. You know about the Westfield incident right?"

I swallowed, "Yeah, he was there, I saw it on the news. Tevita Suarvea."

"Who?" Tommy asks turning to me before staring again at Lance.

"The detective. That's his name." I say, "What's up with you and Lance?"

Tommy rubbed his hands, then clenched his fists. "I just don't fucking trust him."

"Why?"

"I just don't."

"Tommy he chose to stay when half the boys went to Demetrius. For god's sake, he was VP to Demetrius and stepped down to make way for Connor."

"A person who uses his own product should never be pres. Let alone a vice pres. Meth does funny things to people. I've seen the physical and mental changes and the effects. Lance thinks he can manage it as if it's some fucking medication, but I know he's all shit."

"Do you think he had something to do with the attack on Fight Club 88?"

"I dunno, I want Connor back so we can sort all this shit out."

"So do I."

C'mon Connor come back to me.

***

Tevita Suarvea (Rooks)

"There he is!" Jessica screams.

I see the Harley Davidson motorcycle and its rear wheel lighting up the concrete in the distance. I can't make out the bloke. I can't see shit with the smoke blocking my vision. I floor the accelerator pedal gunning for him. The smoke is so thick that I switch on the lights my jaw grinded anxious to catch him. I listening to background chatter of the radio, the roar of the engine and my partner Jessica Smith by the side. She is on the laptop accessing info.

"Jessica says, "Rooks, Unit 5 called in. Connor got to Brooke."

"He must have dropped her somewhere. That dickhead got the pole position when he slashed our tires. I'm getting this piece of shit."

"Left!" Jessica screams,

I swerve hard. Narrowly missing the truck, that drove down the road on our side. The truck driver honked his horn, the noise so loud I can feel it in my balls.

"Fuck you, Connor, slimy bastard."

"This is Jessica Smith we are in pursuit of a Mr. Connor Rourke, Caucasian. Dark to brown hair. 6 foot 4. Black leathers. Require Eagle One to assist."

"Eagle one confirmed Eta Ten minutes."

"We don't have ten minutes Jess. He's on a fucking bike, he'll be in Tim buck too when the chopper comes."

I look at her checking her phone. "I got a message Brooke's ok," Jess says.

"Good, we got to defuse this whole thing before it turns into a gang war."

I drove through the thick patch of smoke when I spotted his tail lights. His bike stalled, I was gaining like Seabiscuit from the back of line.

Keep stalling... Keep stalling... let me catch you asshole!

His bike started kicking up debris. And exhaust smoke. He turns left off on the motorway heading north to Auckland City. The time is 3pm, and we are swerving hard dodging cars. I'm right on his arse Connor keeps looking back he tries to be smart and swerves at the last minute to let the oncoming cars come at me like bullets.

"Rooks, he's headed for the city were gonna hit traffic. You gotta get him!"

"No shit!"

I turn the wheel and look ahead seeing the traffic come to a standstill. I turn on the shoulder driving up on the left side gaining on him. We are side by side. Slower moving cars hide him in flashes.

"Take the wheel!" I say.

Jessica takes the wheel steering on the shoulder. I take out my pistol and unload a couple of rounds."

"Shit!"

"Rooks the hell are you doing!"

"Taking this fucker off the road." I say, "Keep the car fucking straight!"

I aim again lining up the back tire.

"Brake! Brake! Brake!" she screams. I turn my head to see the shoulder coming to an end with the gridlock

Screech!!!

The car skids. The antilock brakes kick in making the car shudder. I the drop the pistol to take control of the car. I fling it the wheel to the side to stop when I see Connor disappear threading through the traffic. I slammed my fists on the steering wheel. "Fuck!"

I turned to Jessica who is breathing out. The bull bar of our car just touching the concrete barrier.

***

Connor Rourke

The tension eased off as the cops became a dim sight in my rear view mirror. I took the next turn off and backtracked to the southern motorway and arrived at the safe house. I saw Brooke in the distance holding her phone when she saw me. I pulled up and held her.

"Baby I told you I'd come back."

Brooke wiped her eyes, holding me albeit with one arm. Tommy and Lance came up to me.

I said, "Tonight we hold a meeting. I want to discuss my plans for vengeance against the Copperheads." Tommy rubbed his hands, smiling. Lance nodded. "Could you guys give us a moment?"

Tommy and Lance walked off. I brushed aside Brooke's hair. "I'm so glad I got you, baby, before the cops did."

"I would have been safe."

"No not with them. Listen to me you _can't_ trust them. We had people in the police force working for us.

"I heard Demetrius mention, John Dillinger."

"Yes. Him and the others."

Brooke squeezed her eyes, "Baby, I promise I won't let Demetrius take you again. I knew I shouldn't have left you alone."

"Don't dwell on it Connor what matters now is we are both here, together."

I kissed her forehead, "Come on let's get into the house we both need to take a shower."

***

We both stand under the large showerhead as the hot water cleanses our bodies of the blood and filth. I hold the loofah, foamed up with soapy suds as I wipe down Brookes body. Her body although bruised is still gorgeous and sexy from the time I lay eyes on her naked. Full hips, a great arse, and breasts that still to this day make me want to suck, kiss and caress them for ages. Brooke raised her head as I kept soaping her tits when she said. "I was talking to Tommy he thinks everything that happened to me was a setup."

"Yeah, he made noises about it."

"He thinks its Lance."

"No." I say, "I know Lance he's loyal."

"That's' what I said."

"Either we have a case of pure luck by Demetrius, or there's a rat. I guess I gotta be more guarded now. Regardless. It bugs me, there might be someone." I drop the loofah and watch the suds rinse off her body by the stream of water. "But it's not Lance."

Brooke said nothing letting her face catch the spray of the water. She leaned forward and kissed me, I held the sides of her face returning a deeper kiss.

"God I missed you, Brooke. I don't know what I would do if he killed you."

"He didn't Connor. He's afraid of you Connor. Or maybe he has some sort of sick respect for you. Anyone else, other than me. He would kill without hesitation."

"I know. Demetrius wants me to push his product. How did it all become like this huh? The moment we try to break free, and we compound ourselves with trouble on both sides."

"Demetrius blames me. Saying it was me putting ideas in your head."

"I came to this decision on my own. Demetrius is narrow-minded to the future of the club, only interested in himself and how much money he is making." I switch off the shower and walk out grabbing a towel for Brooke. I head to the mirror and stare at my reflection or what I could make of it with the fog coating the mirror.

The tattoos on my body the two snakes on my chest. The Cobras. Brooke wipes the mirror, I see my left eye all black.

"I loved Demetrius like a father. You grow up admiring him he's a hero. Brooke, you have no idea how much that man did for me growing up, how he shaped me as a man. I hate how things have turned in the last three years with him."

Brooke said, "Because of me..."

"No, babe. Because of his actions. His ego grew when the money started coming in taking risks with the meth making alliances with people we should have never trusted. They turn on a dime when then things don't go their way, or if more money is made elsewhere. It was going to happen sooner or later."

"I guess I accelerated it."

I said nothing.

I ran my hands around Brooke and kissed her neck. "Brooke don't ever feel guilt or responsibility for that. He went over the line doing the things he did, and I'm gonna make sure he pays. I promise you."

Brooke exhales, "When will this end? Connor. All this is like a never-ending cycle."

"When I have his head on a platter. It will all be over then. That is when the cycle ends." Brooke wept, "Shush baby, it's going over soon."

"It's not that, Connor there's something else."

"What?"

Brook tapped her groin, then held her hand on her belly.

Fear and terror shot into my veins. I squeezed my eyes.

"Don't tell me he raped you?"

"No!" Brooke says "He didn't." She sniffled, "We are going to have a baby."

"What!" I my eyes widen, "What? How many Weeks?"

I did the pregnancy test week. I doubled checked with the doctor. 8 weeks.

The blunt shock of it hit me, my mind fogged for a moment. "Oh shit! Woo! Great news, Brooke." I held her again kissing her. Damn, I held her belly. A little life growing inside. "Is it a girl or boy?"

"I won't know until twenty weeks."

A moment of worry hit me. I pulled on her towel stripping her naked. I ran my hand over her belly. "Did they hurt our baby?" I saw no visible signs. "I'm taking you for a scan right now."

"I'm fine Connor. The doctor said I'm ok. Besides, I protected myself curling up."

The images of all them kicking Brooke... Her in pain. Her screaming. Helpless. All those copperheads beating Brooke. All of it compounded in my skull! My fists curled up, and I struck the mirror smashing it. "Argh!" I say, "I'm gonna get those fuckers."

Brooke shook from the fright. Clumps of glass fell into basin. I looked at my distorted reflection. She grabbed a flannel to pick out the shards embedded in my hand.

"Aw Connor... you're bleeding." She took my hand washing the blood off under the water she pulled out the first aid kit and took a towel to stop the bleeding.

"Ah! It fucks with my head Brooke that he did this to you. I can't get let this go!"

She pressed my wound and looked up to me. Her eyes, communicating so much with little said.

"I worry about this life inside me Connor. The life we are going to give it. The things our baby will be exposed to. What this child will grow up embracing. A lot of people left the Black Snakes completely to start a new life, some went to the copperheads. One left your brotherhood."

"Nick Bourne."

Brooke nods.

"I remember him handing his vest to me. He never told me why he left. Just disappeared."

"I wish it could be like that for us. To get away from all this."

"Brooke you been harping on about this, but this is me. I was born into this life. The brothers, the club. You. Every bit of all this is me. It's our Fate."

"You make it sound like you have no choice. You chose this life, every aspect of this is a _decision._ A reality we are living now that can _change_."

I smoothed my face, "Tell me, Brooke, what do you want?" I pause, "No bullshit."

"To be with you." She says, "To raise my child without the fear of violence. To live a normal life."

"And what's normal to you Brooke?"

"Without the club." He exhales, "With you."

"Don't make me choose woman." I say, "You have no right! Fuck sakes, Brooke."

We went into our bedroom to change when Lance and Tommy burst in. Disrupting our argument.

"Connor." he says, "You gotta see this!"

"Not now! Lance."

"Demetrius he's here outside the gates."

"What the Fuck!"

I ran out to see his crew standing by the gate all them on the bikes. Demetrius wearing his vest and black leather pants. He was standing, and the wind blew behind them bringing the throat choking dust to us. I squinted and went for the Shotgun. When Lance took my hand.

"They are all unarmed," Lance says.

"Horseshit."

"They are. Demetrius wants to talk. Straight business."

"This fucker has some nerve."

Clutching the Shotgun, I could end all this by putting his head in my sights and shooting it clean off.

Lance whispers "Hear him out, boss. Give this asshole the benefit of the doubt."

"After what he did to Brooke?"

"Boss he spared Brookes life. Things could have been a lot worse."

"Grrr! Ok! But stand by with the men. If I smell a scent of a trap. Rain the steel on them."

"Aye Connor," Lance says looking at my feet.

I step out from the house grabbing the shotgun to walk five meters in front of the deck. Demetrius walks a few paces when his boys follow only to stop when he raised his hand. He walks slowly with a gait like he walks on the tip of toes, a cocky confidence that makes me want to shoot his head off. He stands about two meters in front when I cock the shotgun pointing it at him. I see his boys behind him hesitate, ready to pounce. Demetrius turns and shakes his head.

"Easy now Son." He says in a calm voice.

"I'm not your son." I grind, "You know I can end all this bullshit now and blow your head into pink mist and chunks of flesh." I spit on the ground, "Your men can take your remains to feed your fucking pit bulls."

Demetrius smiles, "But you won't... son."

"Stop calling me that."

"How's Brooke?"

I grind my jaw, I pull on the trigger slightly. Demetrius appears unfazed. "You bastard, you almost killed my baby."

His eyes widen. He smiles, "Well that's good news. Congratulations, I'm looking forward to being a grandfather. I'm here because I want you to do something in the greater scheme of things will take little effort from you. You know we can resume the previous activities to a greater capacity, and I think for the sake of those close to you, you should do as I ask."

"I told you... no deal."

Demetrius shrugs. "You know there may not be a next time for Brooke or the baby."

My eyes widen sick of the bullshit when I raise the shotgun to pull the trigger. Demetrius reacts quickly by knocking away the barrel with his hand.

BANG!

I flinched when he punched me in the ribs then grabbed the shotgun. He ejects the shells, tossing the shotgun aside into the mud. Shit, he's still quick for an old man. Demetrius puts a finger in his right ear, twisting it. My ears are ringing. The smell of gunpowder makes my nose twitch.

"Don't test my patience." He says, "I'm gonna give you 9-month truce so you can play happy families. It will also get our gangs out of the radar of unwanted police attention and activity. When you look in your child's eyes and think about the future, you will reconsider. Remember you owe me this."

I said nothing to watch Demetrius turn and walk. I pick up the shells to load my shotgun when Lance takes my hand.

"Let it go, Boss. Live to fight another day. We lost a lot of men today."

I paused, breathing hard. I squeezed my eyes, then dropped the shotgun.

***

Tevita Suarvea (Rooks)

I sat on the bonnet watching traffic and inhaling exhaust fumes while we waited for the next unit. Ten minutes pass and another officer arrives, and we commandeer his vehicle. We get an Intel from the Eagle One helicopter a convoy of bikers is heading north on the motorway. Copperheads. We head out and set up a blockade to intercept. With five other units setting up cones and diversions to get them to pass through our checkpoint.

I see Demetrius.

He sees me.

He's still ugly and wrinkly like my ball sack.

"Is there any reason for this officer?" Demetrius asks.

"Routine police stop. License checks, Warrant of Fitness, the usual."

Demetrius went quiet staring at me like "Does it bother you what happened? That you murdered my wife and son?"

"She held a gun to the head of a witness."

"You should have shot her in the leg!"

"The sudden reaction of pain she would have shot the witness. I shot where it would have incapacitated her. Her death is unfortunate, but she had no place being there. Your scum Demetrius getting your pregnant wife, to do your dirty work. I read the autopsy report your wife was a sick woman on the meth while carrying, makes me puke my guts out. The baby was sure to have deformities. Could have been born retarded like yourself."

"What!" Demetrius dismounts and gets in my face, his shit smelling breath almost had me reach for my gun. "You think this own this town walking around like your John bloody Wayne. I never forget what you did to my wife and baby. You have no idea how small you are in this." He paused "Cop..."

"It's detective."

"Detective. A detective on a routine stop. This is harassment. Is... That all?" he says, "Are we done here?"

"Yes. Tell all your boyfriends behind you that if I see any burnouts, I'll impound their bikes and crush them into little cubes."

"I remember the story about you at Hive taking out the prisoners like a badass. I always wondered how you would fare in my territory."

"Are you threatening me dickhead?"

"No, just a hypothetical question." He smiles, "Winter is coming..."

Being summer and puzzled by his cryptic string of sentences. Demetrius nods at boys before jumping on his bike. He rides off revving his engine, Jessica's stares at me.

She sighs, "Well, that was a waste of time. What was the point?" her hands on her hips, shaking her head.

"Sometimes it's good to let people know who is running things. I'm sick of these bums on their bicycles spreading their filth in my town."

She rolls her eyes, "What I saw could be interrupted as a dick measuring contest."

I shrug, "He will have plenty of time to do that in prison."

Jessica rolls her eyes when her phones rings, she says it's Brooke.

"Put her on Speaker."

"Jessica its Brooke." Brookes' voice sounded faint I could hear static.

"Are you all right?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah. Sorry reception here is crap I only got one bar."

"What's going on?"

"I haven't got long to talk. Demetrius was here, half an hour ago, he issued a truce between the two gangs for nine months."

"Why nine?" I ask.

"I don't really know, but it's to do with my pregnancy somehow." I heard shuffling, in the background. "I gotta go Connor is coming. I'll talk to you later."

***

Brooke Winters

In my bedroom. My eyes flicked to the chrome doorknob, it jiggled than I heard pounding at the door. I unlocked it, and Connor came in.

He said, "Why did you lock it? Baby, I've been looking for you."

I speared my hair, "I... I don't feel safe."

Connor interlocked his hands around my waist, then gave me a peck on the lips. Baby as long as I'm here, you will always be protected. Ok?"

I nodded when he flicked his eyes to my phone on the bed. He stared at it for ages, making me nervous.

"Hey, I saw you on the phone earlier. Were you trying to call me?"

"Uh, yeah. It rang, but I hung up after two rings as you say."

Connor walks over and snatches the phone then smashes it."

"Connor, what are you doing?"

"The cops pinched my phone. I can't risk them tracing you back here."

My heart dropped knowing my way out has been thwarted.

"You could have taken out the sim card you know?"

Connor pauses, then scratches his head. "Shit know what? That might have been better!"

"Now I need a new iPhone 7."

Connor holds me again, "I'll get anything you want Brooke. With this baby on the way, I want things to be stress-free."

"Gosh, I don't know about that one at the moment!"

"I know you won't like this, but I need to shift you to another safe house. With Demetrius knowing you are here. I can't trust his word with him giving us 9 months."

"I can't be cooped up in one those places Connor!"

"You have no choice."

I broke free from his grip and walked to the window looking outside. I watched as the prospects began to pull the razor wire out from the shed. I see Tommy and Lance chatting in front of the Land Rover. Lance shoves Tommy. "As much as you think you were born into this Connor I do know what you were like before you put on the patch."

"Horseshit. I've never changed ever since I met you."

"It's true. I remember the fifteen-year-old boy whose strong ambitions of being a successful businessman drove him. All those stacks of books you read on investment and so forth. Reading up on biography's on successful businessmen, deep inside that was your dream before Demetrius patched you into the club."

Connor walked over to window to open it up letting in cool air. He stood there looking out wiping the dust on window sill.

"Brooke..."

"Wait, I'm not finished. All these years you've been working your ass off to achieve his dream, and now you wanted to make your own path."

"It didn't go the way I wanted it to be. I was loyal to the club thinking of everyone's interests. Sarah's death was what pushed me to get Demetrius out of there. I had 70 /30 vote which shows you what everyone was thinking. I agree with you there has been too many lives lost, that's why I pushed the club towards a new vision a new era." he wiped more dust from the window, "I made it clear to the boys, what I wanted and they followed. It disappoints me that you don't have my back. We can't run away from all this Brooke."

"But I can." I switched my view to see Brooke right next to me staring at me with defiant eyes. They teared up as I held her.

"Please don't do this to me, Brooke. I need you more than ever, there are things I have a plan for that you are going to be part of. Something that will change our lives for the better. I promise you things will be better, but I want you and baby to be safe under my protection in the safe house."

I look around, and sigh, "I hope it's not as bad as this?"

Connor smiles "Trust me this safe house is better than this shithole."

"Where is it?"

"In time dear, you'll love it. _No one_ knows this place but me."

I hear commotion when I see Tommy and Lance arguing again about something outside. Tommy holds Lance by the collar then the exchange of punches happen. An all-out brawl. I point, and Connor runs out.

***

_Connor Rourke_.

I bolt in between the two, as Lance is off his face. The 6 foot five guy is slurring. He wipes his mouth, then smoothes his goatee. His eyes are dilated, and his Mohawk lops on one side.

Tommy says "Look at him, boss. He's off his face. A joke to the Black Snakes."

Lance staggers wiping the sweat from this temple. "I'm not boss, Tommy was in my face. Talking shit as usual."

"The fuck is going on?" I asked.

Tommy says, "We got a rat, and he's right here in front of us!"

Lance grits his teeth and lashes out. "I'm fucking sick of you Tommy! You jealous fuck!"

I grab Lance by the neck and bring him down. He's frothing at the mouth squirming as reaches out to Tommy like a zombie. I move him away as Tommy lays in a couple of sucker punches.

I say, "Tommy get outta here. I need to speak to him."

"Boss..."

"Go. I'll talk to you later."

I watch Tommy shake his head as he heads into the barn. I'm holding Lance, the bloke is squirming out of my grip.

"Let go of me, Connor!" Lance screams. "Fuck! Let go!"

I let him go when Lance throws dirt at Tommy.

"This punk bitch is always jealous of me, spreading rumors to everyone that I'm a rat! Fuck em! Fuck them all! You know me, Connor. You know me since we were at school."

"I know. You were this kid who was one the first patched members while attending school."

Lance heaves before he takes out a packet and clicks it on his palm. A couple of cigarettes fall out, he takes one, and he lights it. Sending the wafting smell of tobacco to me.

He coughs from the first drag, "I saw potential in you, even if you looked like a poof carrying all those school books. But I knew you were smart up here." Lance pokes his temple. "Demetrius said to bleed in new prospects since the ones we had were all dumb cunts. I vouched for you man. I fucking vouched for you!"

"I know." I say, "And things like that, I never forget."

"I walk around here, and every cunt is giving me a suspicious look." Lance clenches his fist, "I know what they're thinking."

"Look, man, I'm gonna hold a meeting soon, to clear the air. But I'm going to take Brooke to one of the safe houses."

"Which one?" he frowns.

"I'm still thinking about it." I say, "I want to stay a week here, so the dust settles. Brooke and I will bolt for few months, so I need you get your shit together and step in. In my absence."

Lance flinches his cigarette falls out of his mouth and shakes his vest. "I do have my shit together Connor!"

"Not when you smoking that crack pipe." I say, "Jesus what kind of example are you setting?"

"I didn't think it was affecting the way I do things." He says taking out another cigarette to light with shaking hands.

"Well, it is..."

"Sorry, Connor. I... I'll stop." He blinks "I promise. I won't let you down."

We turn when Brooke comes out to us. I pat of the dust off Lance's vest.

"We good?" I say.

"We good Boss."

"I nod, "Get outta here."

Lance drops his cigarette and stamps on it when Brooke holds my hand. She winces at the sight of the cigarette still glowing with the stray embers. She rubs her right cheek.

"What's wrong?" she said arms crossed, watching as Lance heads into the barn.

"Nothing it's all sorted now," I say. "I brought some clothes in our room are they to your liking?"

"Yeah saw them. I thought they were for your mistress."

I flashed a sly smile, "But?"

"As you can see, they all fitted me perfectly."

I paused to admire the long green tunic that stopped above her thigh. She flashed me, the quick sight of the white panties, made me want her. "C'mon lets go to bed."

***

Brooke stood by the side of the bed as she undressed from her green tunic. Lifting it above her head, her brunette locks fall in front of her tits. Just touching her nipples. She pulls the white duvet back to the end of the bed. She sits on the end of the bed tying her hair back. Her body is flawless, skin glistening. Seeing her like this makes my cock twitch and pulse with the need to take her. I remove my shirt and strip down to my boxers and jump into bed.

I watch as Brooke, walks to the light switch. She dims the light right down to the moment where her body looks like faint silhouette. She slides into bed, moving up to me. Her arm around me, fingernails clutching my back. I loved the way she did this, and she knew it was a way of making me hard. My face moved forward as we kissed. Our tongues dancing together, her kisses feel warm, wet. Inviting. Home.

"Damn Brooke. I missed you! I'm never letting you get hurt again."

"I missed you too..." she says before moaning.

Brooke turned to lie on her back. I nudged her legs apart climbing in-between them. My cock rock hard is still in my boxers. I hover above Brooke kissing her neck with countless kisses. She moans clutching my shoulders. Moaning and moaning. My mouth trails down to her breasts, kissing her nipples then licking the lower arc of her breast. I smell her perfume. Brooke starts to grab my cock stroking it with my boxers on.

"Take off your boxers." She moans.

"No."

"Why?" she whispers, "Don't you want to be inside me?"

"I do." I groan, "Not yet. I want savor your body. The times before, I took making love to you for granted. I realized I need to make an effort put in everything cause you never know."

"I was scared, Connor." She says, "I thought I was gonna die."

"What matters babe, is I'm here now. And you're safe." I brush aside her hair, "Damn I love you."

My kisses continue to the where anticipation is too much, and Brooke rips off my Boxers, Grabbing my cock. Whatever self-control I had trying to savor and make the moment last, went out the window as her touches forced a feeling of need for her. Brooke guided my cock inside her, feeling her tight heat as I begin with slow strokes into her pussy. I felt like I was home. Two of us becoming one. And I love this woman so fucking much that the emotion filled my body as I worked my cock with a rhythm that made her scream.

"Oh Connor!" she clutches my back, her legs lift wrapping behind me. I slowed the strokes so she would feel every inch of me. She looked up at me a deep piercing stare that would be interrupted with flinches as I increased the strokes.

"Oh, that. Feels so good..." she moans.

The need to come overtakes me as I quicken the strokes. I clutch the headboard so hard as I plunge deeper inside her. _Faster inside her_. It comes like a wave as I release inside her, my whole body tenses up that I break the loose headboard. It falls to floor, and I collapse still inside Brooke. I pause before turning over my back on the bed. Brooke wriggles up to me. Holding me like I'm her protector.

I am her protector.

***

I wake up next to Brooke who is staring at me. I wondered how long she has been looking. Thinking. Judging. With the things she's been through, there was a slight fear of her leaving me.

"Good morning." She says smiling.

"I feel kinda ashamed, having sex while you're pregnant. I wouldn't want my cock to squash out kid."

Brooke laughs, "Ha-ha you're big, but not that big. It's alright to have it while pregnant. You know I'll want it more you know?"

"Sex?"

She nods. Licking her lips.

I chuckle "Maybe you should be pregnant more often."

Brooke laughs and grabs my hand to rub on her belly.

"How many weeks Pregnant are you again?"

"8."

"When do we find out if it's a boy or girl?"

"I told you. 20 when we go for the scan. Any guess what you think it will be?"

I rub my temples. I pause to look out the window before looking back at Brooke.

"I think it's a boy."

"Ha, I knew you would say that."

"Are you anxious about what sex of the baby is?"

"No, I want the baby to be healthy. No alcohol no foods that might harm our little one growing inside."

"No stress..." Brooke nods, I kiss her forehead. "That I promise you."

"You said something about a safe house. When are we going?"

I look at my watch its 1 am.

"Now."

"What?"

"What about the meeting?"

"Look I have my reasons."

I get out of bed, and I lift off the red rug on the carpet to reveal a trap door. Brooke's eyes widened, and she scratched her head.

"Like it?"

"What's down there?"

"When this place was built we built a tunnel system that was a base for a proposed meth lab. Demetrius knows about this too so I wasn't surprised when he a few men ready and waiting to ambush us if things went sour."

"You mean they were down there?"

"Yeah. The tunnel goes underneath the potato field and exits out to the fence line."

I shine a torch down the beam lights up the metal steps. I see dirty finger prints and boot marks on the rail and steps.

"Tricky bastard," Brooke says.

"C'mon lets go."

I switch on the lights and see ahead as the lightbulbs flicker in the darkness. The tunnel was dug out supported by timber we didn't concrete in the end. But the layout has changed slightly. We walked 3 meters when I pointed to the room to left. The lab. I smell a familiar smell, and it's not meth. Brooke covers her nose and mouth. The door is chained shut.

"What the hell is in there?"

"At a guess, Demetrius was up to no good. I wonder who or what is in there."

"Don't Connor let's go!"

Curious to smash open the door to see what manner of horrors was in there. Brooke tugged at my arm, and we pressed forward. I noticed the orientation of the tunnel. It changed, it now split off into another wing. I stopped and shined the torch down the new addition. This one had been concreted.

"What?" Brooke said as I held the torch. I saw the number of red curtains in what looked like rooms. I shined the light on the floor to syringes, litter and condom packets. "Gross,"

"Demetrius must have run a prostitution ring down here. These rooms use to store meth before I had them moved offsite. Fucker still wonders where it all is."

"So the room back there... is there people in there?"

"Forget about it, they are dead. Let's go."

We carry on and the air in becomes stifling, damp and restrictive. The walls had a thin stream of water trickling down them. I look ahead when I see moonlight. The exit door wide open. In what felt like ages we arrived outside of the compound. A small shed where I stored bikes lay concealed from the past. Knee high grass surrounds us.

I knocked the lock off and went inside. The small cache of weapons was still here, and I looked across my old Triumph is under the green plastic. I lifted off the cover, reconnected the battery. My old girl. Still beautiful from the day I bought her.

"Gosh, you still have it?"

"Yeah, brings back memories huh?"

"Does it. My first time riding a bike, gosh it felt free."

I pushed the bike out of the shed, the chrome still gleamed and the leather seat was dusty and worn. I jumped on and started it. It ignited the first time.

"Jump on."

Brooke threaded her arms around my waist. I couldn't wait to show her the place I had hidden away. Free from the bullshit in our lives.

***

Tevita Suarvea (Rooks)

The hive

2 am

In the offices of the hive, I sat with Jessica Smith as she displayed a map of South Auckland. She held a laser pointer highlighting the cellphone tower where Brooke's call was made. I looked at my coffee inhaling the bitter scent before downing it like a kid at a 21st. Fuck I love coffee. My legal drug of choice. Though you never want to see me, asking for a soy latte with extra cream and a sprinkling of chocolate like Jessica ordered.

Jessica took a sip. I raised a brow.

"What?" She asks.

"Why can't you be simple? I want a coffee. Strong and black. Boom. Done. Out of here."

"So what?"

"You wasted your breath and energy uttering a novel to the barista on what you want in the concoction you're holding now." I say, "You better bring some good fucking ideas to the table kid."

Jessica Shrugs, rolling up her sleeves exposing her scars on her wrist. "I'm hooked on it."

"Give me the gravy," I ask.

Her phone rings, "Shit its Jake."

"Who?"

She says, "We're kind of dating."

I flinch, "Oh your boyfriend. Shit, when do I meet him?"

"You won't. Ever. Knowing you. Besides were only talking at the moment."

"Talking as in texting and sending pics." Jessica gave me the middle finger, "Tell Jake to go to bed and keep his dick pics to himself."

"They were not dick pics they were snapchat selfies!" Jessica rolled her eyes and cupped the receiver on her phone to wish him goodnight. I was never the type to admit my feelings but felt... ah, fuck it. Jessica placed the phone down and rejoined me.

I said, "I hope the guy treats you good. It's all I'm gonna say."

"He does." She says staring at me. "I think I love him."

I looked back at the screen, jealous. "As you were kid."

"Okay so over here is the cellphone tower which processed the call. Being a rural area there is only one, so it makes thing easier instead of having overlapping cell towers. We could have triangulated the position if she stayed on the line a bit longer, but it's a shame Brooke hung up too early. The circumference shows the range of the cell phone tower site."

I examined the properties the cellphone tower covered. She opened up Google maps and overlapped it with info of businesses, streets in the Pukekohe area.

"Shit like finding a needle in the haystack," I say. "They could be anywhere in that radius. Can we call her back to try again?

"Her phone is off."

"Shit."

I stared at the circle for a while.

Jessica says, "I can narrow it down a bit."

"How?"

"Remember when she called she said she had only one bar on her phone."

"Yeah."

"Let's focus on the outer perimeter than the inside."

I traced the circumference of the cell phone tower which made things easier. With fresh eyes, it overlapped not businesses but a school. A reserve and a potato farm.

Jessica shines the laser pointer on it. "Exactly what I was thinking." She says.

"The potato farm."

I nod. "I guess it's a meth lab too from experience. Good work kid. Maybe you better order two of those coffees for me next time."

"Thanks."

"Let's go hunting. First light."

***

Brooke Winters

Bringing back memories alright. My mind cast back to when I was 16 when I held Connor around his waist. Holding on for dear life. The first ride on a bike the sensation. I lower my head a little to shield from the wind, peeking over his right shoulder. Riding down the motorway at speed that would make him lose his license. With all his promises of protecting me, this is only the time I feel it. The road. The speed. Him most of all, hands on the handlebars taking us in the direction we want to go. Nothing can touch us. We head down the motorway going east. When we pull up to the area called Half Moon Bay, we drive down to the dock when I see a ferry. Connor stops and heads to the office.

"Where we going?" I ask.

"Waiheke Island." He says, flashing the passes. "It's not a safe house, but it's better."

Connor rides the bike up the ramp, and I board the ferry on the side. We head up to the roof to see the sun starting rise. There is thick rain clouds heading over. Bringing with it a sun shower.

"Baby, you hungry? I can order us some breakfast."

"Please. I'm so hungry."

We head down and place our order seated at the table an overwhelming feeling comes over me. I look at Connor who is devoid of his leather vest. Dressed in a gray suit jacket. White shirt and gray pants. A rare time when he resembles a civilian. He looks like a businessman.

"What?"

"Nothing. Well, for a moment I looked at you thinking you were a successful entrepreneur."

"I look nothing like Steve Jobs."

I chuckle, "No and I'm glad. What did you order?"

"Your favorite."

"Eggs benedict with crispy bacon and hollandaise sauce?"

He coughs, "Um cereal."

I punch him.

"Only joking, it wasn't on the menu, but a mixed grill will be fine. It's all they do."

"Cool."

Connor slides his hands over the table to hold mine.

"Babe, for the next number of months forget about everything and focus on you getting healthy. No one knows about this place but me. I can't wait to show you the views."

"Connor if no one knows about this place. Why can't you stay? Let Lance run the club I need you with me."

"I got an obligation to carry out the duties as president of the Black Snakes I can't leave the brothers behind."

"But you can leave me without blinking an eyelid."

Connor shakes his head withdrawing his hands. "Please, Brooke I only ask for your support. You know my responsibilities."

I squeeze my eyes, letting go of my stubbornness, frustration. "Alright. But I can't help worrying about you, Connor. It puts stress on our baby and me."

"I know. It's only short term."

I exhale when the waiter arrives with breakfast. My mouth waters seeing the mixed grill a variety of dishes. Bacon, hash brown, tomatoes scrambled eggs. "Maybe we should have ordered one plate?"

Connor laughs, "I was leaning towards the idea too."

I lift my fork and knife when I look at Connor saying a little prayer before he eats. I forgot about him being raised as Catholic schoolboy. Though he never put any of his religious beliefs on me.

"Been a long time since I saw you say a prayer?"

"Old habits die hard, besides the food tastes better when it's blessed."

"No, it tastes better when you put cracked black pepper and salt!"

We laugh when Connor takes a big dig into his scrambled eggs.

"Brooke, I thought if we could..."

"Get the baby christened?"

"No." he laughs, "If we can keep the sex of the baby a secret till birth. You know keep it a surprise."

I looked out the window, a flock of seagulls flew along the first line of sunlight. The rain cloud seemed to move slowly to the island. I thought about what he said. "You know, I quite like your idea. Life is full of surprises. But it will be annoying buying clothes when you don't know. Are we taking bets?"

"We can?" he says. "Are you game?"

"I feel, it's a girl?" I say, "I know it."

"Even though the sex of the baby hasn't been formed yet?"

I raise a brow? "Been reading up?"

"No." Connor laughs, "We do learn stuff in school you know."

"I can imagine you doing well in the sex education classes at school."

Connor burst out laughing. "I got A, I think. I was fascinated by the pussy..." Connor laughed then delved into his scrambled eggs as I watched him fuel up.

I say, "Do you think it is a girl?"

"Mmmm... this is good. My gut says it will be a girl."

I hold out my palm for a high-five.

I see Waiheke Island getting bigger as we approach, it is quite a contract to the city. Devoid of buildings filled with lush green landscape. A paradise untouched. I run my hand on my tummy, thinking about this place Connor is going to show us.

***

Connor Rourke

I mount myself on the bike ready to depart the ferry when my phone rings. It's Tommy.

"Boss where are ya? We got a convoy of cops coming in!"

"Oh shit! I'll be there." I say, "Where's Lance?"

"He's rustling up the boys to stash away the weapons into the field behind the barn. They are moving the tractor over it to cover."

"Good." I say, "The cops can't do shit without a warrant. So make sure you let them know they are trespassing."

"I will."

"Where's Lance?"

"He fucked off after you talked to him. What you say to him?"

"Wait till I get back, I'll give you a heads up." I say, "You know the entrance where the tunnel ends right?"

"Yeah, I thought it was supposed to be all concreted up and sealed."

"No, we bolted from there last night. Meet me there alone. Once the cops do their thing."

I hang up, and I head to Brooke. I wave over the taxi driver and hand him cash giving him directions to my place.

"Brooke here is the code to the house. I gotta take care of a few things."

"What happened?"

"Nothing I can't handle. I will be back tonight."

I kiss Brooke and ride back to the ferry.

***

The ferry ride back to Auckland was under an hour, I headed from Half Moon Bay to get on the southern motorway back to Pukekohe. Traffic was bad so gunned it on the shoulder. On my way, there's this asshole in gray Lamborghini who cuts me off. I made it to the entrance, and I saw Tommy by the shed. He sat on his bike, wolfing down a burger. I looked at my watch it was 12.30pm.

"Boss." He says a mouthful "You made it!" He threw the grease-stained brown paper bag to me to catch. Inside was a burger, and typical with Tommy half empty cup of fries. Tommy cracked open a beer to wash down his food. He burps so loud that he strikes his chest with his right fists.

"Gosh Connor, that's the problem with fast food these days. They make it so big that when you bite into it, the whole thing falls out the other end."

"Maybe you should switch to a salad?"

"Fuck that."

"How'd it go with the cops?" I asked.

"Like you said they couldn't do shit. A few of the boys had warrants against their names for unpaid fines, but that was it. They tried to search the place for meth but found nothing. Just a few tinnies and two bags of weed."

"Was it the same bloke?"

"Yeah, the big brown bastard Detective." He says "You said there's something you want to tell me. It's Lance isn't it?"

"No Man. With Brooke pregnant and all, you know I gotta marry her."

Tommy's eyes widened, crushing his empty beer can with his forehead before chucking it the bushes.

"The old Catholic rules our mama raised us by, is it?"

"No, I don't want the child to born out of wedlock."

"Who cares Connor, get that bullshit rule out of your head. What matters the most is that you _want_ to."

I paused tapping the etching on fuel tank of my bike that had Brookes name. "I do."

"What I can't hear you?"

"I do Tommy. I want to marry Brooke."

"Well that settles it then, you know we gotta do it at a church right?"

"Jesus Tommy we haven't been back there since high school."

Tommy smooths his chin, then brushed off crumbs. "I wonder if Brother John is still there. The old fart might have a heart attack if he sees us two. His favorite altar boys."

"Remember that time we got drunk on all the sherry, and we replaced it with grape juice come Sunday Mass?"

I laughed, "I do. Do you find it ironic with what we've done coming from a past like that?"

"I still believe Connor, that foundation we had as kids played a part in me following you."

"C'mon, with the shit we've done I'm sure the devil is just waiting for us."

"Ha! Maybe, but all that religion aside, I want to be right with God."

"Keen to come with me to see Brother John about my Wedding?"

He laughed. "Might be a wedding then a funeral. Bloody bloke might have a heart attack once he sees his prodigal sons."

I took his beer for sip.

He says, "Brooke is a good lass. I'm glad you found someone early who stuck through all the shit we've been through. I admire your loyalty to her even when she's not here. Watching you turn down all that hot pussy that was being thrown at us, I don't know if I could have done it."

"Well you kept out of trouble didn't you?"

Tommy shrugs then licks his lips, "Well, I couldn't let them go to waste."

I chuckle when I see Tommy, opening another beer.

I say, "Did you ever regret being in this club?"

"What?"

"I mean did you ever think how your life would be if you didn't join the Black Snakes."

"Sheesh Connor. You remind me of that movie The Terminator. Ha, there's one thing our lives have in common with that movie is judgment day is coming."

"What do you mean?"

"Demetrius is doing whatever it takes to get the meth business shoved down our throats again. I can see him planning something Connor, my nutsack feels it."

"Ha." I say, "Kinda like that rising feeling when we took that bungee jump on the Auckland Harbor Bridge."

"Yeah like that." He takes a swig. "I'll support any decision you make. I know you've always looked out for all of us."

"I want to call a meeting once we get back to the house. All members all chapters. I want to talk about this truce and my vision for the club heading forward."

"Ok."

"We done?"

I watch as Tommy's jaw grinds, "No. Not completely."

"Lance."

"Yes."

"I know you two have had beef from day one. But you two need to put that shit aside as I have a plan to that will take the Copperheads out of business. Tell Lance to assemble the men in five days. 12 pm at the farm. I gotta get back to Brooke."

"Understood."

I hug Tommy, "I gotta go. This proposal thing, do blokes these days still get on one knee?"

He laughed, "My daddy did. Dunno boss if you want to do it. Do what's right for you. You better get a decent ring, though, my mom shat on my dad when she found out he bought the engagement ring from the antique shop. Maybe that's why their marriage only lasted 10 years! Shit the ring must have been cursed. Chicks get hung up on that shit. Never go wrong with white gold, and a fat three diamond-like my mom use to say."

I nod.

***

Tevita Suarvea (Rooks)

Fifty officers came out for what was supposed to be the biggest bust. Ended up being up to the most embarrassing bust conducted in my life. The police chief, Daniel Sanders walk over lifting his tactical helmet. His glasses are fogged up, and he tussles his salt and pepper hair. The Eagle one and Eagle two Helicopters circled overhead. I hope I don't foot the bill for the fuel they wasted.

Daniel shoves me. "All this for two fucking puny bags of weed?" he says, "What happened to the biggest meth lab?"

"My sources were inaccurate."

"Inaccurate? Your sources must have been sucking dick. What a fucking waste of time." He says, "Get your shit together Rooks, you're almost as bad as your brother. I called a favor getting all the precincts involved." He points to sky, "And those two birds in the sky."

Daniel throws the bags on the bonnet as the stream of officers geared up and armed for nothing, retreat to their vans. Each of them looking and mumbling curses at me like little bitches. Jessica is staring at me, arms folded. Raised brow with a sprinkle of 'see told you so!'

"Maybe we should have gone alone." She whispers.

"Ha maybe?" I say, punching the bonnet with my fist "Fuck! I thought we had these motherfuckers."

"What now?"

"The Black Snakes are clean, so we focus on the Copperheads."

"How do we find them? How do we find Brooke? What can we ping them on? Brooke said there is a truce between the two gangs. These guys are scattered everywhere."

"All we can do is watch. Keep an eye on gang activity over that period. The reality is the meth they are peddling is addictive and lucrative, and they won't stop activity because of the truce. We just keep hitting their drug houses one by one. As much as we want to take the head off the source, there's a time and place for that."

"Damn Rooks. And to think I expected you go guns blazing."

"Not yet, but I feel it coming," I say clenching my fist. "I wonder what will happen after the 9th months?"

Jessica shrugs then jolts when she takes the phone out of her pocket. She peers at the screen.

"It's Brooke!"

***

Brooke Winters

I ask the taxi driver if I can borrow his phone, I take out Jessica's number I wrote on a piece of paper and put the phone on the caller ID settings and call.

"Jessica It's me, Brooke."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Where are you?"

"I can't say. But I'm safe now."

I hear someone saying something.

"Brooke do you know what Connor is up to?"

"He's gone back to the farm I think."

"He wasn't here."

"Oh." I say, "What! You were there?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any info on what he's planning?"

"No."

"We can still put you under protective custody just tell us where you are and we will pick you up."

"I'm fine I don't need your protection now. You wasting your time going after the wrong people it's Demetrius, and the Copperheads are the ones you should be targeting!"

"But Brooke!"

I hung up, handing the phone back to the driver.

We drove through to suburb called Oneroa where the driver drove down this gravel stretch of road that leads ashore. There was a black steel gate, the fence had razor wire on top. I got out I saw the keypad and read the piece of paper Connor gave me. What! I chuckled at four digit number for security was 1111. Not the most intelligent sequence of numbers for a safe house.

The gate retracted, and my eyes flinched at this jewel he had been working on. A cobblestone driveway leads to a two story house enclosed by a glass fence. The place is on the cliffs edge. You could see views of the ocean and the other islands. I opened the gate to walk along the pool to head to the dining room. I could see the lounge and bedroom upstairs. I kicked off my shoes and sat poolside dipping my toes into the water. On a hot day like this, it is a godsend. A glass of wine would nice now. I spotted a beach chair, and I lay on it for a nap. Interlinking my fingers over my tummy, I closed my eyes.

***

I shook hearing the screech of the metal gate opening. I blink adjusting to the lack of light. I stand to hear the familiar sound of Connors bike. I ran up to gate, and Connor rode through. I hugged him so glad he is back.

"How'd it go?"

"The cops raided the Farm."

"What!"

Connor nods flicking down the kick, to get off the bike.

"What did they want?"

"The detective was trying to pin shit on us. The good thing about that spot you can see cops coming a mile away."

"Oh."

"I told them I'm holding a meeting in three months' time to let things settle."

"Why not stretch it to nine?" I asked.

"Too short." He says. "Besides I don't see Demetrius adhering to promises."

Connor wraps his arm around me and says "So in the meantime, it's going to be you here and me." He kisses my lip then sucks my lower lip pulling it back. His face turns to the side. "Like my little love nest?"

"I do. If we came here earlier, we would have had a kid a lot sooner."

Connor smiles when he lifts me up, "Well I better take you to the bedroom?"

"Why not..."

***

I woke to see Connor standing in his black boxers by the sliding door looking out to the ocean. It's raining, and the water trickles down the windows. The soothing sound of the rain hitting the rooftop makes me want to fall asleep again. I looked at the bedside alarm to see that it is 3 am. I got up carrying the silk sheet to cover me.

"Can't sleep?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I wanted to wait till sunrise."

"Why?

Connor smiled when the rain eased. "Nothing."

He steps to the side and takes the silk sheet wrapping my naked body like a dress. His left fist is clenched while he's doing it. The moonlight makes the material shimmer and shine. I flick my eyes to him. He looks nervous. And in the time I've known Connor that kind of expression is a very rare occurrence.

He clears his throat. "Brooke, when I met you as a 16-year-old teen, I knew you were the one. I love you for the person that showed me kindness and unconditional love throughout the time I've been with you. I want to be more than just, your best friend. I want to be your lover, provider, and protector...

Connor paused as I saw his left fist open. My eyes widened at the white gold diamond engagement ring. Three stones, holy shit they are big!

He whispers, "And most of all your husband."

The words echoes at the same the glint of ring threw my emotions out, I went weak at the knees, and my eyes teared up, my hands fanned frantically to cool my face. He took my hand, holding the ring with his thumb and forefinger. He gets down on one knee.

"Brooke the three diamond stones on this ring represent our past, present... and now the future I want with you." He inhales, "Will you marry me?"

I wiped my eyes, nodding as I said _yes_.

Connor took the ring slipping it on my finger, and oh my god it was so beautiful. There is something about the way real diamonds sparkle that makes me all fluttery inside. I flicked out my fingers watching the moonlight hit the stone at so many angles with the movement.

I held Connor, "I don't want to sound cliché, but this is the best moment of my life."

He held the sides of my face wiping the tears with his thumbs.

"Mrs. Brooke Rourke, I like the sound of that." He whispers.

"Connor I want the wedding after we have our child. I don't want to be with a big belly on our wedding day. You ok with the small request?"

"Sure, anything you want."

Connor paused for a moment when he reached for the silk sheet. Loosening it fell to floor. He held my waist. Kissed my lips then kissed the ring on my finger. So many happy thoughts went through my mind. Happy. Excited. Loved.

He ran his fingers over my breasts, squeezing my hardened right nipple.

He whispers, "They are getting bigger now."

I chuckle. "Yeah. My body will start to transform. You might not be attracted to me."

"Never. What we have goes beyond that. Look at you babe, you're glowing."

Smiling and smitten. I kissed him. "I know."

Connor took my hand and let me back to bed he whispered, "But I will never get sick of making love to you."

***

Brooke Winters

9 months later

The months went so quick that soon my belly was ready to pop. I lay in Auckland hospital ready to deliver our baby. Connor held my hand as I grunted to squeeze this baby out, I squeezed his hand so hard I noticed his face lose color, as he started grimacing. It was then I heard it. The sound of a baby crying. They cut the tube, and there... she is. _A girl._ With a full head of hair snuggling up to me. I kissed it as tears filled my eyes. I looked up at Connor to see him wiping his eyes. Shocked at the rare time I have ever seen him weep. Tears of joy.

"Damn she beautiful Brooke!" Connor says, "She's got your eyes, nose." Connor ran index finger on her toes. "She has my feet."

"Stop it."

I laughed as our baby, started to calm.

"A girl Connor."

"We were right." He says, "What name are we going to give her?"

"Ruby Rourke. Of course, its Ruby Winters now but that will soon change."

"It will." Connors lips pursed nodding in agreement, "Ruby..." he says smiling, "I like it."

"Do you want to hold her?" I ask.

"No. no, no. Best the baby bonds with you, cause she's crying."

"Come on take her."

Connor lifts Ruby holding her. He whispers things I can't make out, but I feel so fatigued and tired. I sleep.

***

Connor Rourke

Gosh, she's beautiful. Holding my baby daughter. A piece of me. I struggle to suppress the swirling amount of emotions that enter my brain. I press my lips on her forehead as she opens her eyes to look at her father. Damn. My nose presses to the top of her head. That baby scent. I can't believe she's mine.

I whisper. "Ruby, I'm gonna protect you and keep you safe. Daddy's here now. I won't let... You-"

THUD!

I Shook. When all those rotten copperheads streamed in. Two by the door, three busted in and him...

Fear and terror hit me like a ton of fucking bricks.

Demetrius.

He walks in with that smug look as all his men fill up the room.

Fuck there's nothing I can do!

"Connor well, Congratulations on you being a father. Parenthood is a joy, everyone should experience. I did."

Demetrius walks forward wearing his leathers. He holds his hands up.

"What do you want?" I say, "And how the fuck did you find us?"

"Not important at this point. He looks like you Connor. Can I hold him?"

"No. And it is a she."

"Ah, a girl. She's gorgeous Connor what is... her name?"

"Fuck off. The lot of you."

Demetrius comes closer, one of the henchman grabs Brooke. She screams when he covers her mouth. Muffling her screams.

"Let me hold my granddaughter." Demetrius says, "And I promise I won't hurt any of you." He comes closer threading his hands into my arms. I resisted. But any sudden movement by me may hurt my baby. I let go. Clutching my fists as Demetrius holds my girl. My fists ready to strike my mind trying to figure out where to hit, but powerless to do anything. I was outnumbered, and my loved ones were all vulnerable.

"You know Connor if you weren't such a stubborn son, none of this discord would have ever happened." Demetrius smiles, and Ruby opens her hands. "I hold this little one thinking what Sarah would have had if she didn't die all those years ago. How everything went down." He flicks his eyes to Brooke. "How that bitch Brooke changed everything. I wonder where I went wrong with you son. Only that you were born to a family, who treated you like a mongrel from the beginning, perhaps the priests at your church fiddled with you."

"Fuck you."

Demetrius starts to step back. Flicking his eyes to the door.

I move forward when I'm blocked by his smelly goons.

Demetrius hisses, "I lost my family that day Connor. My wife my child and you. And holding this new life in front of me I get to start over."

I gritted my jaw, "You fuck don't you take her!"

"You see Connor I was robbed of everything and now I have a chance to get everything back."

Demetrius stepped back more, and I lunged forward before two of his men blocked me. Brooke screamed I got pushed back.

"Demetrius I swear to god I will kill you!" I scream "Give me back my girl!"

Whack!

I feel a knock to the back of my head, I see black. I blank out.

***

"Connor!" I hear, "Wake up!"

Connor!

I jolt. My head aches like someone had pushed a knife through my fucking skull. My eyes open to see Brooke tied to the bed. Her face is puffy. I check my watch a few hours have passed. I stand stumbling over to Brooke, I rip off the duct tape on her mouth.

"Connor they took her!" she cried, "They took our baby!"

I stood, stumbling over to bed. I took out my flick blade and sliced the cable ties.

"You have to get him, Connor!"

I stormed out the hospital ward and into the carpark when I saw Lance drive in with the Land Rover. One of the prospects was holding Ruby in the front seat, who was crying.

"Lance what happened!" I say, "Oh thank god she's alright."

We went back into the room and saw the nurse tied up in the toilet. I freed her and headed to Brooke who cuddled our baby. So relieved we got her back. I punched the wall Frustrated. I turned to Lance.

"What happened?"

"Demetrius pulled up the farm and handed over the baby. We were all puzzled, then I called you. You didn't answer so I came over. Demetrius said some shit about you being a stubborn Egyptian pharaoh and him being Moses?"

I paused to look at Brooke, she began to breastfeed Ruby. Who then quieted down.

"It's a Bible story I told him about over a few beers about the ten plagues Moses warned the Pharaoh about if he didn't let the Israelites go."

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"It's his way of asserting his arrogance like he's a prophet of God. The first was capturing Brooke and setting her free. The second was him burning the clubhouse. The third was him turning up to the farm." I say, "Now he took our baby."

Brooke burst out, "For gods sakes, Connor just give him what he wants!"

"No." I say, "Then he wins."

Lance shakes his head "Come on man, these businesses that we are doing... they are losing money. Boss, there's no other way. The Copperheads are pushing us out of old channels we still have a foothold, to make some money and have them on good terms."

I raised a brow, "Good Terms. I shit you not Lance, I am not going to be bullied into becoming my father's lap dog once more. There was a reason why I did what I did to ensure a sustainable future for the club."

Lance shakes him, "For fuck's sake Connor. Are you blind? Can't you see, how like _nothing_ your dad came in? Damn it! There may not be a next time!"

"Damn straight. Because I'm bringing the war to him!"

"What?"

"Assemble the men, we are gonna turn this city upside down to find him!"

Lance squeezes his eyes, before shaking his head he takes out his phone and heads outside. Brooke grabs my arm.

"Connor!" she says, "Wake up!"

"Brooke please understand, once I let relinquish control, it changes everything."

"I'm taking our daughter, and getting away from all this!"

"Brooke, please. Don't do this to me things are hard as it is. I'm not running away. And we can't hide. I'm going after Demetrius, he being alive is like a lump of cancer in my back that needs to be cut out. When I put him into the grave with two holes in the head. We will all be safe."

I ran my hand down the side of her face.

"I've never made a promise I couldn't keep." I have asked for so many chances to make things right. For her to trust me. I just wanted this chance to set things right, even if it costs me my life. Before I die in desolation, I want my vengeance.

"Connor, promises are all I hear. I might not be back. If you... come... back."

Tears fall from eyes, "I understand. Just know I did what I did is because of us."

"No! Connor, it's because of your selfish anger!"

I said nothing. I wiped my face with the towel.

Lance bursts in, "Connor we gotta go back. Copperheads are attacking the farm!"

"What!"

"Yeah, Demetrius is there too."

"No, you stay here and look after Brooke. Get her back to the safe house!"

"Which one?"

"Brooke will show you. Go!"

***

Tevita Suarvea (Rooks)

I floored the pedal of the Holden Commodore heading to Auckland hospital after reports of the Copperheads storming the place. There are a couple of units behind us. Lights blazing. Sirens blasting. The confidence having backup going into a potential hostile situation. I didn't expect Brooke to give birth so soon. I spoke with a security officer who was on site, was oblivious to the things that happened. He sounded like a fat fuck by the way he heaving on the phone. Probably had a donut in his mouth reading the newspaper when shit went down. We are driving north on the motorway when I turn to Jessica who is engaged in a text conversation with dick pic - Jake.

"Hey!" I say.

Jessica puts her phone away. "What?"

"Focus on the job will ya?"

"Okay man. Get off my back it was only a reply to a message to wish him a great day."

"What does this guy do for a job?"

"He's a plumber."

"Jesus. A shit plunger."

"He owns his own business, he employs three guys under him."

"Let me guess their names, me, myself and I."

"Shut it, Rooks."

"The guy messages you ten times a day. If he owned his owned business, it would be one or none. I don't get your anti-social generation writing novels on your phones when we ring broads in our days."

She puts her phone away, "It's what people do now when they are in love."

I wind the window down. Hot air blasts in.

"Why you do that! The aircon is on full blast?"

"Can't stand the smell of bullshit coming out of your mouth."

Jessica shakes her head, then crackle of the receiver alerts us.

"This is dispatch, we have a shooting in progress. 165 redoubt rd. Pukekohe."

"The farm!" I say "We are turning around."

"What about Brooke?"

"I'll drop you here. I'll get one of the units to take you. See what info you can get out of Brooke."

"Ok. Take care out there."

I flinched, "Will do."

I turned around on northern motorway heading south back to Pukekohe. The time is 5 pm, and the traffic is backed up again. I drive on the shoulder blitzing past traffic when I see behind me a motorcycle weaving in and out of traffic. Connor.

Regardless of what Brooke said about them changing for the better, I still have a hatred for gangs. The so-called community work Connor did like feeding the hungry in schools, garnered media attention. Trying to soften the perception of the Black snakes but beneath the image is potential dark underbelly they all ultimately revert to. The history and the legacy.

I take the turn off down the rural motorway when Connor rides up beside me.

I hold my pistol ready to shoot when he hold his palm out. I wind my window down.

"It's Demetrius! He's the one attacking us!"

"Fuck off, Pancake. Let me do my job."

Connor shakes his head and guns it leaving me in the wake of the noise and the smell of his exhaust.

***

Brooke Winters

Lance gathers my things, packing my bags. I hold Ruby kissing her Forehead.

"Where is this place Connor took you to?"

"It's on Waiheke Island."

Lance nods, "ok. I'll book the ferry now."

Lance goes on his phone walking outside the room to talk. Ruby starts to cry, and I whisper to her. Poor girl.

He comes back in. "Ok. Ferry's Booked. Let's go."

We exit to the car park, and Lance opens the boot to a gray Land Rover. We head east to the ferry at Half Moon Bay.

"Connor never told me about this place, what it's like?"

"Stunning. It has views of the water and everything."

"So that's where he hid you for the last 8 or so months." He breathes out, "Can't blame him. With all the shit going down with the Copperheads and the detective on our tail. The worse thing Connor wants is collateral damage."

The Land Rover stops at a stop light. I look up at the red right, the rumble of the engine makes me zone out.

"You okay?" Lance said sweating in streams from the forehead, hands shaking.

"Yeah."

Lance reaches out his shaky finger almost touches the cheek of ruby. Before he retracts it. Clenching his fist.

"She looks like you."

We pull up at the Freshchoice supermarket, and Lance waits his eyes are shifty. He looks at his phone.

"Brooke, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

He pulls out a pistol.

Terror hits me.

"No!" I say, "Connor trusted you!"

Ruby starts to cry he squeezes his eyes, "God damn if Connor wasn't so fucking stubborn we didn't have to do all this Brooke. Our hands were forced. Demetrius is going to use you to give complete control of the Black Snakes over to the Copperheads. But what I really want is the lost shipment of meth that Connor hid. I know it's in the safe house you were staying at."

"You traitor. Connor is going to kill you."

He shakes his head, "Unfortunate, but it is what is. I tried everything to influence, but it all failed. Now we're here."

"Demetrius told me he's going to kill the both of you once we arrive at the safe house. He is waiting by the ferry now." He says, "But as rotten as I may be. I am not a murderer of a woman and a baby. I held Sarah while she bled to death remember?"

I blinked when Lance reached out touching the forehead of Ruby.

"Brooke give me the address?"

"What about Connor?"

"At this moment he is on the farm where he will discover all our brothers have been killed. Demetrius is going to give him a call when he's going to storm over like the hero he is. They are going to kill him after he signs the documents, I'll be filling my boat with product."

"You double-crossing bastard." I weep, "No. I'm not telling you."

"Brooke, Demetrius will harm your baby to get you to tell him. I am doing this for you out of the goodness of my heart. This is the only way!"

Goodness of his heart. Whatever. Lance pulls down the window and lights up, there is some shoppers pushing their trolleys. I think about screaming for my life when the gleam of his pistol reflects from the sun. Lance blows his smoke out of the driver's window.

"Brooke! Look at the opportunity I am giving you. The baby you are holding has a future because of me, do what's right. C'mon tell me."

I squeeze my eyes, hearing the cries of Ruby. "Okay, 133 Sandpit Road, Oneroa. The code 1111."

Lance takes out a pen from the glovebox and writes it down on his arm. He turns to the prospect.

"Hey, take her out of here. Wait for my call. Then take her where she wants to go."

Lance gets out of the car and heads past the supermarket to the ferry.

***

Connor Rourke

I ride into the farm to see the burning barns. Smoke and smoldering ash trails towards me from the wind. The tractor is burning, its green paint is blistering, and Its massive tires are melting like candlewax. I see what's left of my brothers scattered everywhere. Two local cops are on the scene, bewildered by the carnage. I see Tommy on the ground clutching his chest. Blood dripping by his mouth. I bolt over to him.

He coughs out blood. He's wheezing. "Boss, they got us. Out of nowhere right after Demetrius," he coughs "Ah! After he dropped off the baby to Lance."

I press my hand on his wound to stop the bleeding. Tommy shakes his head.

"It's too late for me boss. I'm ready to see Jesus."

"Fuck off Tommy you're too young to die." I wipe my eyes, "After all we've done?"

Tommy cracks up "Ha, maybe the guy in the ground then."

I turn my head as I see the ambulance staff coming along with the detective.

"Tommy help is on its way."

Tommy smiles, his right hand lifting his cross for more kiss. He closes his eyes. Lips still pressed on the cross when the cross drops from his fingers. A childhood friend passes over vengeance hits my soul.

"Goodbye, my friend. I'll see you soon."

The detective is there standing with a rifle in hand. "Connor let me do my job and let me get Demetrius," I said nothing. I stand to look at my hands, the ambulance tends to Tommy. He detective walks over to me. "I know you are going to do something stupid."

His phone rings. The detective speaks with the person.

"Where's Brooke?" he asks breaking his phone conversation.

"She is safe."

"With who?"

"Who cares?"

The detective bites his lip before picking up his phone. He walks away to chat before he comes back to me. "I want you to know something about Brooke, she came to us asking for witness protection on the basis that you get immunity if she testifies against the club."

"Bullshit."

"She told us about Demetrius plans to continue the distribution of meth down your contacts."

My jaw grinded, realizing I have been lied to by Brooke. I woman I love.

"Listen, tell me where to find him. With Brooke's testimony, I can put these assholes away and close up the channels. I can't afford to have him being back in business again." My mind fogged feeling betrayed by the ones you fight for. "Your girlfriend did what she did for the sake of the baby! Get it through your thick skull that she wanted none of this. All this bloodshed is cause of you."

"Listen asshole this is all on Demetrius. I tried to turn things around."

My phone rings, and it's him. What fucking timing.

Demetrius says, "Son, I'm sorry I had to be this way. We wouldn't be in this predicament if you just said yes."

"I swear to god I'm gonna hunt you down!"

I step back as the detective approaches. He turns lending an ear to my conversation.

Demetrius says, "You have a nice place here on Waiheke Island, Great views. Swimming pool. Brooke..."

"Aw shit!" the muscle in my jaw pulsed, fucking traitor. "Lance..."

"Yes."

"How long has he been a mole?"

"Well, Connor you have this odd ideal about loyalty. God knows I raised you with an understanding of it. Perhaps in a sense, you took it literally. But people are people and when you shortchange their livelihood. People get hungry. People get desperate. Interesting things happen or has happened. You can offer a promise of a new world for the club when you are feeding them with breadcrumbs and false dreams. Even the half that stayed with you flipped when I showed them the green. The true reality of the Black Snakes. That has always been the legacy of the club, making money."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to sign a waiver, and an email relinquishing your place as president. I want the message delivered to all 50 chapters nationwide."

"Where do I sign it?"

"You know where I am."

"Okay."

"Don't be stupid and involve that meddling detective or you'll find your family dead."

"Time?"

"Tonight 7.30pm."

I hung up the call with the detective hovering around.

"What he say?" The detective said. Hands on hips.

"Who?"

"Don't play games with me. It's Demetrius."

"It was my lawyer, Mata Usi."

"Listen Cockface. If the situation were different, I would have turned my back and let you and your gangs neutralize one another. But I got off the phone with my partner and Brooke has ditched it with one of the Copperheads. She's in grave danger, and she has your baby."

"I know..."

"Let me help."

"Fuck off. Like you said, let us wipe each other out to the brink of extinction. You can go back to issuing tickets."

I start up my motorcycle to head out to Waiheke Island when I see the headlights of the Land Rover flashing its hi-beams, bringing with it a dust cloud behind. I squint when it pulls up next to us.

Brooke!

I open the passenger side door as she gets out with the baby. So many emotions hit my head. I'm angry and relieved at the same time.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Lance let me go."

"I don't get it. Demetrius called me saying he had you, hostage."

She shakes her head, "Lance let me go."

"Why?"

"He was after the meth you moved there."

"Well, he is going to be pissed off when he finds out it's all in the ocean. When I said clean slate, I meant it. I'm headed over to get Demetrius. Even if Lance saved your life, he would have no mercy when I shove my pistol down his throat." Brooke cries, Tears stream down her face. "I have to do this, to avenge the deaths of my brothers it's the honorable thing to do."

The detective steps in, "Fuck that. The honorable thing to do is be a real man and step aside and be a father to your kid."

"Do you have any idea what Demetrius has done to me? The torment on my Family! I can't let this go!"

Brooke whispers, "Not even for me?" she pauses "For us?"

She nurses Ruby when she hands her to the detective. Ruby is crying when the detective starts singing, Jesus his tone death rendition of Twinkle twinkle little star, Puzzled the both of us. The detective cradles Ruby in his arms. Brooke wipes her eyes, sniffles and she starts to wriggle the engagement ring off her finger. Brooke walks up to me placing it on the rubber of the handle bar.

I squeeze my eyes. "Don't do this Brooke you know, I'll be back."

I look at the detective, he says, "It's a suicide mission. You are out manned outgunned. Don't be a dickhead, tell me where they are..." Ruby reaches out touching the stubble on his face. I'm torn inside with a vengeance. I see another cop car arrive and it's the female cop I saw before at the hospital. She raises a brow at the detective holding the baby.

I put my hand on the handlebar clutching the ring.

"I beg you. Don't go, Connor," Brooke says, "Stay with me. Is this what you envision our life to be? A never-ending circle of Violence?"

The Detective hands Ruby back to Brooke and says, "Connor, I had that same look in my eye when I let revenge rule my life. I'm knee deep in it that now I'm fucking drowning. You are probably too fucking thick in the skull to listen, but I'll give you my ten cents." He says, "Step the fuck aside and give me the address. You have a woman that loves you and a little kid to take care of. I never had the chance to have a decision as you have. I know the result of the one you taking. It's path filled with death and destruction."

I paused the feeling of anguish and vengeance inside too much for me. Turning my head to Tommy as the ambulance people lift the sheet to cover his head. I squeezed my eyes. Then I started the bike. I turned to Brooke. "I love you."

***

Brooke Winters

If it wasn't the words, it was him riding away that sent sadness deep into my heart. I gave the baby to Jessica to hold feeling so weak at the knees. I fell to the ground and cried.

The detective shook his head when Jessica, came up to him.

"Should we follow him Rooks?" she says, "This is our chance to get them."

"No." He says, "there's no drugs, and besides we can't call backup this time."

Jessica raised a brow when he folded his arms. He smiled. Raising his right hand pointing."

Connor's motorcycle is doing a burnout, and I hear the faint scream of Connor. Shouting the longest f-word I have ever heard. It echoes.

"The hell is he doing?" I say.

The detective laughs, "He's getting it out of his system."

The smoke drifts to us. I see Connor sitting on the bike before he takes off his Black Snake's vest. He tosses into the flames of the tractor watching it burn. He turns the bike around heading in my direction.

Yes!

He rides up to me then switches his bike off. He turns to the detective "He's at 133 Sandpit Rd. Oneroa, Waiheke Island."

"I'm sorry Brooke." He says, "I'm so fucking sorry."

I ran into his arms, "I'm so glad you're not doing this Connor."

"Believe me I wanted to... But... argh! I want to be with you Brooke. I want to marry you and raise our daughter together." Connor has my engagement ring threaded in his right index finger, I wriggle it out and place it back on my finger. Connor whispers, "Brooke, I'll never leave you alone again." He says, "I promise."

I hold him, and Jessica brings our baby to me. Connor runs his finger on Ruby's cheek, her eyes open and she smiles. Her tiny hands grasped Connors' index finger. Connor breaks down in tears.

He turned to the detective, who loading up on weapons from the boot of his police car. He says, "I'm glad you came back to what matters the most."

Connor said, "Get that bastard for me will ya?"

"I will. I have the opportunity to take down the whole organization I won't be taking names. I'm taking the head off the copperheads. When I finish, it will just be Copper."

"Good," Connor says as he kisses Ruby's forehead.

Connor takes Ruby and holds her pulling up the blanket as we watch the Eagle One helicopter land. The detective loads his weapons in a bag then he puts on a vest. The rotor wash of the helicopter blows wind in our faces. Flattening the grass around us.

I say, "Think he will make it back?"

"No. There is enough guns at my place to take down a small army. C'mon lets go home. I have a new family to take care of and a girl I want to marry. I held Connors hand while he had Ruby in his arm as we made our way back to the car.

A family _at last._
Thank you for reading _Driven by Desire_

Please visit my  Facebook page for more romance stories.

There is plenty more there for you.

The following stories interlink with _Driven by Desire_

To get the full experience of my world check them out!

Damage – Nick Bourne

Iridescence – Brendon Rain (Included)

Fight for Love – William Alipate

Tevita Suarvea: Copper – (Mar 2017)*

Thanks again,

David

Iridescence

~~~

### David Manoa

Copyright 2016 David Manoa

AMAZON Edition v.2.1

~~~~

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as

the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, information storage and retrieval systems, or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from the author, with the exception of a book reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

~~~~~~

Brandon Rain

Sunday 9:30pm

I get it every time I wait for her to come out of the shower. The pin prickling sensation that comes down from head to my toes. The slight adrenalin anticipation that builds up inside me. The arousal that causes the twitches down below. The scent of her shampoo that wafts in our bedroom. Lying in bed, naked under the cream silk sheets, I relish our alone time. Hours of caressing and intense lovemaking.

Samantha is a beauty alright and, as her man, I have the honor of kissing her from head to toe. That's the intimacy we make time for every Sunday. Instead of binge watching TV shows that rot your brain. We talk. We make love. We sleep. Ready and charged for another working week. Life is good right now, and I'm grateful.

She walks into our bedroom patting her hair with the towel. I sit up as she sits by the dresser, the hairdryer blowing the tendrils of her brown hair in multiple directions. Her deep brown eyes avert from my hungry gaze. I'm eager to ravage her body, starting with kisses to her neck.

She laughs. "Easy tiger."

I raise my hand like a claw, she giggles. She angles her head using the brush to comb through. She stands. Her petite, curvy figure looks like a piece of art wrapped in white cloth.

She walks up to the bedside, her arms raise as she ties back her hair.

The towel falls to the floor.

I smile staring at the ground, a glimpse of her sexy legs. Calves so tight and smooth. She kicks the towel away showing her perfectly manicured toes sparkling with red nail polish. She raises her right foot onto the side of the bed. I grasp it, kissing her kneecap, smoothing my hand into her inner thigh.

"Come here... sexy!" I growl.

I pull her into me, grabbing her like a lifeguard saving a drowning woman. She giggles and tries to resist, but I want her too much to let her go. I'm holding her, my breathing heavy from wrestling with her.

I say, "Your skin is dry."

She whispers, "Really?"

I reach for the massage oil in one of the side drawers. I turn Samantha on her back, her fingers on the headboard. She angles her head trying to look back. I tell her to close her eyes. Her creamy colored skin feels so smooth that it doesn't need oil. But I know how my touches arouse her. I pour the oil, and her body quivers as it falls to the base of her lower back. I start there, rubbing the oil with my thumbs in a circular motion.

She groans.

I take the oil and pour on her rear. I watch with fascination as the oil creates this delicious sheen, I massage her there spreading the oil on her plum shaped butt. My erection begins to spring aroused by her moans. I move my thumb and fore forefinger into her sex. She jolts, then I feel her pelvic muscles work against it.

"I want more of you..." She says.

She raises her upper body and her rear lifts as she clutches the headboard. I move forward, my hardened arousal pressed against her rear. I lean forward, kissing the nape of her neck before running my hands through her hair, pulling through the hair tie. Her hair falls down her back and shoulders.

I feel the oil moistening the tip of my arousal. I lean back clutching her hips. My tip is teasing, touching the lips of her pussy. Samantha tries to move back, so I glide inside her. I hold her at bay. A quarter of my length inside.

"I want you inside deeper..." she whispers, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"Turn around. Lie on your back." I say "I want to see your eyes..."

I lean back as Samantha changes position. Her knees are up. Her legs deliciously open. I run my hand on her sex to feel she's wet. Hot. And so ready. I climb up. She holds her hands to the sides of my face. Her penetrative stare locks in to me. _I slide in_. Her eyes close for a moment. I feel her.

I moan, feeling her tightness. The way she opens her eyes to let me know she's adjusted for me. I lean in kissing her.

I say, "I love you so much, you know." I withdraw when Samantha grabs my rear – she clutches. Hard. She moans as I begin to slide in and out with a relentless loving rhythm.

"Ah!" she moans. "I know..."

My weight falls on her. My mouth nuzzles her neck, then my tongue, suckling kisses as I angle the penetration to the way she likes it. Heavy moans an audible cue that I'm there.

It continues.

I say, "I want you to come for me, Samantha."

She says nothing, but I feel her begin to tighten around me. She raises her hips in time with my rhythm, causing a spine-tingling sensation deep inside me. I increase my pace because I want to meet her at that place where our climax combines.

She shudders. The first sign.

She clutches me tight. The second.

She cries out my name, then she shatters in pieces of pleasure, causing me to come in pulses of euphoric ecstasy. Joy and closeness again. I wrap myself around her, watching her drift off to sleep.

I'm a lucky man to make love to a woman as beautiful as this.

Lucky.

***

Moonlight shines into our bedroom. I can't be bothered drawing the curtains. I usually feel uncomfortable sleeping at night with them open. The sensation of being watched disrupts my sleep.

But this night is different, for tonight the sky is clear and stars twinkle and sparkle. And in our bed, I lie next to my girlfriend of five years. Samantha Evans. With the window slightly ajar a gentle breeze blows in making her skin react with goosebumps. I pull up the duvet to her collarbone and move closer, threading my arm through to hold her.

In a deep sleep, she breaths with a calm, soothing rhythm. Locks of her brown hair cover her cheek. I brush them aside behind her ear. Damn, how did I end up with a woman as beautiful?

"Samantha..." I whispered.

...

I notice the way her eyes are moving. They say when that happens you are dreaming. Maybe she's dreaming about me riding on a horse as I approach. Dressed like a prince. Perhaps she's dreaming about the way my kisses will fall on her shoulder. The light presses of my lips, my hands holding her hips. My body pressed against her.

Three sources of stimulation that make her cheeks blush. But there was always one more.

My voice.

"Samantha, you awake?"

Her eyes squeeze when her hand rubs them.

"Umm..." she replies, "Brandon what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Why did you wake me?" she says, "What's the time?"

"1:30 am."

"What!"

"Sorry, I thought you wouldn't wake."

"I heard you the first time." Her eyes open, and she breaths in. Her hand sweeps across the stubble on my face.

My eyes flick to the sky when she turns to look. "Why didn't you close the curtains?"

"I forgot."

"Want me to close them?"

"No," I say, "It's nice for a change to stare at the sky, to think."

She turns around when we spoon.

She says, "What were you thinking about?"

"You, and your dream."

"My dream?"

"Yeah, you were in what they call REM sleep. Do you recall what it was about?"

She paused a beat.

"You awake?"

"Yeah, I remember being on a beach with you and we were looking for oysters on the rocks. I watched you take a knife out and open one up. Then you slurped it down. So gross."

I chuckled, "Then what happened?"

"Umm... it gets fuzzy from there." She flinches, "Oh I remember taking the knife and splitting the shell of another one when you winced."

"A bad one?"

"No. Your jaw moved up and down, and your tongue was swirling around inside your mouth. Then you took my hand and put a pearl in it with your lips. Gosh, it was gorgeous, the way it shone like a rainbow, the way the surface refracted the colors. There's this fancy term, but I've forgotten it."

"Aphrodisiac."

She bursts out laughing as I kiss her neck.

"That is definitely not the term I was thinking about."

"I was..." I reach in to squeeze her thigh before running my hand up to her breast. I squeeze. Samantha turns around and kisses my chin.

I say, "I sound like a broken record, but I love you. You know that, right?"

"I do. Tell me what's on your mind, honestly?"

"I was thinking about life. About the things we take for granted, Jesus I sound so philosophical."

"You're not. That's what attracted me to you."

"Not my charm and good looks?"

"No. Definitely not that, I assure you." She smiled, "Carry on with what you were saying before."

"Uh... yeah, I was thinking about the division I caused between you and your mom. Being with me, an older guy and all." I say, "And all that drama with your ex, Matt."

Samantha sits up and rakes her hair, exhales.

"Me and my mom used to be so close. I just don't get why she disapproves."

"Well, she was blunt about it when I met her. Her words were, you're too old and broke for my baby."

"Gosh, I'm twenty-four. When will she realize I'm an adult?"

"She never will. Parents are like that."

"It's not like you're old. Forty is ok."

I raised a brow, "Eh? I'm thirty-five."

She smiles, "Only joking, Brandon."

"Give your mom time. Eventually, she'll warm up to me."

"I hope so, I miss talking to her."

"Hey, you shouldn't shut your mom out 'cause of me, you know."

"I know. It's just that every time we talk, she always raises the issue about you. It bugs me, 'cause I try and change the subject then it comes back to you. I wish she was accepting like my dad is. Besides, it's a different feeling now."

"We got on well. I like your pops."

"Ha, you two acted like brothers to be honest. You talked for hours about UFC."

"He didn't care too much about my age. Basically said to me, if you love my daughter, and you have a job then you are ok by me."

She laughs, "That's my dad alright."

SMASH!

I jolt when I heard the sound of glass smashing outside. I get up to look out the window. I see two kids breaking into my car.

"Brandon, what is it?"

"Two kids are trying to steal my car."

I take my bat and storm outside, naked. I scream.

"Hey!"

I see that they are two little shits, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. They jump out terrified. I recognize them both. One holds his screwdriver as a weapon as I near, when they see me waving the bat. His eyes avert down. Out of fear he drops the screwdriver and runs.

"Get out of here!"

I watch as they run, then Samantha comes out, holding the phone against her ear. I take the phone and end the call.

"What you do that for?"

"I know them."

"Who?"

"It was Shirley Jones' sons," I said, "Little punks."

"Really?"

I nod as I inspect the damage. They smashed the rear quarter window to open the door, and they ripped out the ignition and the surrounding plastic.

"It looks like they stuffed up the keyhole, how am I getting to work tomorrow?"

"It's gonna take a week for them to replace the barrel. Ordering brand new parts for this car from Japan takes a while."

"Gosh, and a week out from our holiday? This is the last thing we need."

"What's our excess on the insurance?"

"I think it's about $1500."

"I believe that it will be cheaper to fix it ourselves rather than mess up our no claims bonus. I can get a rear quarter window from a wrecker for twenty bucks and the ignition barrel fixed for two hundred."

"How am I going to start the car?"

I kneel and brush away the smashed glass to pick up the screwdriver. I put the head in the barrel and turn. The car starts.

I look up at Samantha whose arms are folded. I hand her the screwdriver.

I say, "Your key, madam..."

***

Samantha Evans

The next morning.

I sit in my car before taking out the screwdriver to start it. I examine the tool with its long steel stem and its yellow amber handle. I look around to see the glove box open with paper and the car manuals on the floor. The thieves didn't even bother to take the five hundred dollar dash cam I had stored in there. I mount it on the windscreen then I put the screwdriver in the ignition and start the car, heading to work. It feels awkward as I stare in the wing mirror to see the plastic that Brandon taped around the smashed window flutter from the pressure. I take the turn onto the motorway heading toward the Harbor Bridge when I decide to wind down the window.

The cabin pressure causes the plastic to blow out, and it blows high into the air. I shake my head, annoyed at the little shits that did this. I start to hit traffic on the motorway, and slow right down.

To my right is St Peters College, the place Brandon attended, and to my left is Mt Eden prison. I notice the plastic hovering still, then it floats in the direction of the prison. It sticks again to the copper building against the frosted windows which I assume are the cell windows. Gosh, that's where the two brats should have gone.

I arrive at work to receive a message from Brandon.

02102602465: Hun, the weather report said it's gonna rain tonight can you pick me up?

I reply with a yes, then gaze at the sky, not a cloud insight. But that's the thing with Auckland weather, four seasons in one day. I walk through the sliding doors where I'm greeted by work colleague, Wendy.

"Hey girl." She said, "I noticed the big gaping hole in your rear quarter window. What happened?"

"Some teenagers tried to pinch my car."

"Really? Oh, my god! Did you call the police?"

"I tried to, but Brandon stopped me."

"What?"

"He worked out that it wasn't worth the hassle messing with our no claims bonus on our insurance. Plus, we know the kids who did it."

"Oh, I understand."

"He has contacts that can fix it up. He's certain it will be less than the damn excess payment."

"I wish my man was that handy? He's a rare breed you know."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a man's man. Not afraid to roll his sleeves up and get stuck in."

I laughed, "If he is as you describe, he would have put a ring on my finger by now."

I hold my left hand up wriggling my fingers.

"Jeez, girl you still all flustered about that?"

"Well, it's been two years now." I said, "I don't know if it's him or me. It just feels right for me."

"Trust me. You're young! What, you're turning twenty three this year?"

I nod.

"Maybe he's waiting for another couple of years when you mature."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, girl don't be offended. When I was your age I didn't know what the hell I wanted. I travelled the world and came back world-wise at twenty nine when I knew what I wanted.

"Yeah, you said you wanted someone with a dick and a job, if I remember correctly." We both laughed, "I do want Brandon. That is one thing I do know."

"Have you considered an O.E? Maybe head to Europe for a few years?"

"No, travel doesn't interest me. I saw the world with my parents at a young age. I hated it. Living in London for two years, then Dubai, then Korea."

"Wow, what did your parents do?"

"My dad was a teacher, teaching English, taking up contracts here and there. I hated the prospect of getting settled in making friends, to then be uprooted and moved to another country and start all over again. I'm glad we are settled now."

Wendy glances at her watch, then said. "C'mon, we better get on the phones before we get our asses kicked." I follow Wendy, but I feel it might be time to bring up this conversation with Brandon when I see him tonight.

***

Brandon Rain

5pm

Work has finished. Overcast skies have started to pepper light rain on me. I breathe deeply, taking in the scent of rain as the road gets coated. I check my phone and read the message. Samantha is stuck in traffic. Maybe another half hour, tops.

Then it begins to rain. Hard. Pelted by the elements I take shelter, the sound of it putting me in a trance. There is something soothing about it, nature's white noise. I think about the dream that Samantha had, with the pearl. I read somewhere that our anxieties and desires manifest in our dreams. And also in our nightmares...

A pearl, symbolizes innocence and beauty – or a new beginning... Was this supposed to represent a ring? I pondered on that thought while the rain eased. The fresh earth smells linger as I see the headlights of our car approach. I notice the plastic rear quarter window missing. I open the passenger door and get in.

I kiss Samantha on the cheek, but see her out of sync.

"You okay?" I say, "What happened to the window."

"It blew out when I drove on the motorway."

I look behind at the whole back seat soaked. That musty smell makes my nose twitch.

"I better make that a priority to fix it."

I turn to Samantha to see her grinding her jaw. She does this when she bottles things up. Before opening my mouth, she interrupts.

"Prioritize?" she shakes her head. "I wish you would prioritize things that are more important to us."

I flinch from the tone of voice and the comment.

I say, "What are you talking about?"

The rain begins to start again, and the streetlights switch on. She pulls up to the side of the road. She looks for the screwdriver to switch off the ignition but it's fallen under the seat.

"Can I ask you something? And I'm going to be blunt about it." She grabs the screwdriver from under the seat and points it at me. It gleams as the end gets close to my face.

I swallow, "Sure."

"We've been together for nearly three years. I'm twenty-two, going on twenty-three, and what I want is to take the next step. I thought I could be less direct about it, but it seems you didn't pick up my hints." She pauses and her eyes glaze, "Or want it as much as I do."

"Hey... Why is there such a rush? Look it's on my mind. I just feel that it's not time yet. We have only been living together for a year."

"So you want to wait, so if problems arise you can run away?"

"I'm not running away from anything. It's a big step with so much planning and so much saving on my side. For the ring and all."

"I don't care about the fricking ring. Hell, I'll drive us right now to the gas station and get a packet of cheese rings so you can put one of those on my finger." She wipes her eyes, "All I hear from you, Brandon, is fricking excuses!"

"Hun, they are not. Listen, what I want more than anything in this world is you. A ring or engagement is never going to change the way I feel about you." I lift her chin and kiss her lips. "I want to do this properly. Of course, I want to get married, but just give me time. You won't have to wait long, I promise."

She nods. Suddenly flashing lights pull up behind us. Blue and red light saturates the inside of our car.

"Shit, the police," I say.

The rain stops, and we see an officer step out in a hi-vis jacket. He's holding his flashlight, approaching. Samantha winds down her window. I eye the officer who peers in, shining his light on the broken plastic around the steering wheel. His pale face is gaunt, but his muscular frame sticks out. He's big bloke, that's for sure.

He says. "Turn off the ignition."

Samantha wedges her hand down the center console and pulls out the screwdriver. The cop reacts by grabbing her hand with his left and with his right he starts punching her in the side of the face.

WHACK! The first hit gets Samantha on the side of the face. She screams when I react my grabbing his fist when he comes in the second blow.

"What the fuck are you doing!" I shout.

"Let go of me!" the cop shouts as his left hand holding the flashlight hits Samantha. She panics and floors the gas pedal. The car moves with such pace that I let go, but the policeman grabs hold of Samantha's fingers clutching her jacket.

"Stop the vehicle!" the cop screams.

Samantha slams on the brakes jolting the officer as he hits the A- Pillar with his shoulder.

Thump!

She stops the car, and I see the cop's face was dragged across the concrete. He's clutching his leg, his face bloodied. A second cop car arrives and rams us to the side of the road. The impact winds us, and we get out.

The bleeding cop is hobbling over when the cops that crashed into us run out of their cars and tackle us to the ground.

The injured cop takes out his baton and begins to hit me in the back. The strikes are so hard that, even when I tensed, the pain was unbearable.

"You fucker!" he screams as he hits me again and again. I curl up when he starts hitting my head. I peek to see Samantha, cheek on the ground, crying and shouting.

The two officers that had restrained her bolt over and restrain the cop.

"Calm down Dillinger!" The officer restrains him, but when he holds his hands up, they let go. I look up to see him clutching his shoulder. He kicks me in the ribs and spits on me.

"You're fucked, you hear me!" Dillinger says, "You are _so_ fucked."

***

One month later

Mt Eden Prison

Cellblock 1

Dillinger was right.

Mt Eden prison was originally a military stockade built in 1856, repurposed as a prison ten years after the walls were constructed of basalt rock from the adjacent mountain. Peering through, it feels like the place is a fortress. A castle.

Prison security leads me out in cuffs as the first gate opens. The spiral of razor sharp barbed wire jiggles as it goes across. A sharp horn sound rings when the green metal doors open. Escorted into the processing area. The cuffs come off, and the guard directs me to Cell Block B.

Fear seems to encapsulate me as I see the inmates. There are two levels of cells on the perimeter. In the middle are tables and chairs bolted down to the gray painted concrete floor.

The guard, who introduces himself as Rob, stands beside me. He is an obese man, balding with a large beard. He points ahead while I get uncomfortable stares from the heavily tattooed men. One with a bulldog on his cheek licks his lips and purses them, like he was kissing me.

Rob says, "If you abide by the rules and do as you're told you'll be right. You have access to one hour of exercise per day. Meals three times a day. You are allowed visitors twice a week for a period of 45 minutes. Make trouble or get in shit with me, I will bring it down to one or not at all. Remember there are gangs in here. Don't be associating yourself with any of them. A man with a pretty face like yours will be ravaged by the sodomites in here. But, mind you with the crime you committed, assaulting a police officer and all..." he smoothed his brown beard, "Hell, you'll be a celebrity in here!"

"Is there a chapel? A place where I can pray."

Rob laughs as he points to the crowd. "You think these sick fucks deserve salvation?" he pauses, "Do you?"

"I'm not guilty of what I was accused of."

Rob raises a brow, "That is a cliché I have heard too often. Mt Eden is a private run facility. It makes money by filling beds and keeping prisoners in. Do you think rehabilitation is in their best interests? These greedy fucks are driven by money. They cut corners by making the two chaplains redundant and forced everyone here to reapply for their jobs on lower pay.

This whole cell block was nothing like they told us. State of the art facilities my ass. The government thought this was a sweet deal by not having to spend money on the construction of this god-forsaken place. Now we have to put up with an understaffed prison and shit that doesn't work properly. Look, even after two years the bloody paint is blistering."

I grind my jaw while Rob laughs sarcastically. We walk through the crowd as I hear the whispers and shouts. I notice the inmates seem to fear Rob, as they step aside.

Fish...

Fresh meat!

The whispers pepper my mind. The threats linger.

Rob stops in front of my cell and points to it. Everything hits me. The totality of my situation. How I'm so fucked. I weep. I catch the attention of my cell mate and the inmates that are watching from the tables. Stirring up with laughter.

Rob pushes me into the cell and slams me against the stainless steel divider where the toilet is.

He hisses, "Pull yourself together! If they see any sign of weakness, they will come for you."

I wipe my eyes when Rob steps out of the cell.

Rob hisses, "The fuck you looking at. Get outta here!" I look at this short weasel looking bloke who smirks as he walks away. Rob steps back in and slips something into my pile of clothes. My cell mate nods as he takes the clothes and places them next to him.

I say, "What do you mean they?"

"Who do you think?" he said, "The gangs. Wash your face then meet me on the balcony."

I wash my face when peer up to my reflection in the stainless steel mirror. I turn to my bunk bed as the cellmate takes out a thinly pressed plastic bag that has marijuana in it.

He throws my towel at me, "Mind your business, fish!"

I wipe my face and walk back out to the balcony to see Rob holding a baton, hitting it on the rail.

"Ah, that's much better, Mr. Rain. Perception is reality here. And this will be your reality for the next seven years. I've seen a lot of things in here."

"They said I'm eligible for parole in three."

"Ha! You think beating a cop up will see you out that early?" he shook his head, "Get outta here."

He extends his arm and points to segregated groups.

"Human nature causes men to do despicable things to each other, especially in an environment like this. See to your left there, the group of tattooed men with the bulldogs on their cheeks?" My eyes flick to them as they play cards. I nod. "They are members of the Head Hunters. A motorcycle club that deals in methamphetamine. See that man with the burns on the side of his face? That's Jasper Kayne, their leader. Almost a quarter of the prison population are affiliated or in their ranks."

We walk to our right, seeing another group with tattoos of intertwined snakes.

"Every gang has a rival, and these sons of bitches are the Black Snakes. That ugly motherfucker with the traps as big as his head is Sargedog. You know the irony with all these guys locked up in here? They do more damage indirectly than if they were on the outside."

I turn to Rob, "Why you telling me all this?"

"Because at some point, you need to make a decision. Keep to yourself or join the gangs for protection. Because at some point someone is gonna throw a fist at you. Maybe you should be praying about that."

Rob laughs as he walks away. I go back to my cell, sit on my bunk and look out towards my window, watching the vultures plan...

***

Samantha Evans

Justice...

Somewhere along the line, we grow up thinking that truth will set us free. That justice will prevail. That karma will pay you back. My man is rotting in a prison cell, an innocent man! And I feel at times so helpless.

It's 1 am. The first night in three years I have had to sleep in a bed alone. How quick my life changed. There's that point where you cry so much that your eyes can't produce any more tears. I look out the window to see the light streaming in. The dust motes floating in the air. I want to close the curtains but feel so weak. So tired.

Never give up...

I leap up and hobble to the window to draw the curtains. The flickering light of my laptop at my desk catches my attention. I sit and resume my application to the Supreme Court.

I take the marker, crossing off the days before I can see Brandon again. Only six more sleeps.

***

Morning.

I wake to find my mouth all slobbered on the keyboard. I wipe my eyes then observe the time in the corner of the screen. 7 am. My phone rings, and it's our lawyer, Matthew Lincoln. He was as shocked as I was when they delivered the verdict. That he decided to help with our appeal to the Supreme Court free of charge. Matthew has been so supportive but what makes this difficult is that I used to date him before I met Brandon. I could have used another lawyer, but Matthew is someone I can trust. I just wish it wasn't so awkward when I ended things so abruptly with him. I was the one who broke his heart.

My phone goes to the answering machine.

"Samantha, pickup it's Matt. I know you're there."

I pause thinking, then I lift the handset, "Matt."

"Sammy..." the name he called me when we dated.

"You okay?"

"I just woke up."

"I need your affidavit done, ASAP."

"I know, I'm finding it hard to remember everything that happened."

"You have to try, for Brandon's sake."

"I can't believe the two officers lied under oath..."

"That's why I need your updated affidavit so I can compare. Already there are inconsistencies in what they said compared to what you told the jury earlier. I only clicked on it last night, but it won't be enough to convince the jury. I need more details."

"Tell me what you have. Maybe it might jog my memory."

There's a slight pause when I hear him putting me on speakerphone. I listen to the shuffling of paper then a large thump which I'm assuming is a large pile of paper.

He said, "I read the statement that Officer Nelson Dillinger gave. At 5:30 pm he witnessed a domestic situation and pulled up behind you. He then said that Brandon hit you on the side the face and head when he intervened."

"That didn't happen. I was the one who was driving."

"Let me finish. This was backed up by Officer Smith, who said Brandon was driving. So we have two officers that told me you were not driving but when I examined the photos on the scene the car seat was adjusted to your height. How tall is Brandon? Six-foot-one?"

"He's six foot three, and I'm five foot five."

"Exactly. Also, Officer Dillinger said that Brandon tried to stab him, but the fingerprints on the screwdriver are yours."

"Jesus Matt, why didn't you get this sooner?"

"I tried to adjourn the case as long as I could so I could have more time to think about it. But the judge thought I his wasting time. And the police weren't cooperative in releasing your car in time. I had to take it up with the police complaints authority where the investigator had to step into speeds things up."

"Matt, that's enough there!"

"It's not. I rang the judge, and he said we need more. I need your full account. I require more evidence."

I pause trying to rack my brain but everything went so blank from the time Officer Dillinger hit my head. I feel frustrated. "Matt, every day my man sits in there while we do nothing!"

"Calm down, Samantha it's a start. When you see Brandon tell him about the development, the thing he needs now is reassurance and hope, that we're doing something. Sammy, things might seem helpless right now but talk with Brandon when you see him. Maybe he might help your account of that night."

"Okay."

"Oh, another thing, the towing company is dropping off your car today. The investigator is finished with it and will touch base with me in filing a serious misconduct charge against the officers. That should ruffle a few feathers..."

Officer Nelson Dillinger

***

Nelson Dillinger stares at cracked mirror in the police locker room. Another officer slams his locker door, making Nelson flinch. The fog from the steam of the showers distorts his reflection until he places his palm on the mirror. He swipes down once to see the permanent scars on the side his face. Flashes of that night fuck with his mind. As Brandon held his arm while she dragged him across the ground.

CRACK!

The sound of his shoulder dislocating before he hit the ground face first. A rage beckons within Nelson as he clenches his fist. Brandon in jail isn't enough. He wants him to pay for he did.

"Hey!"

A voice booms through the thick steam in the locker room. Nelson sniffs as the scent of sweat and soap goes to his head. Out from obscurity walks a rookie holding a piece of paper.

"I should have never listened to you!"

"The fuck you talking about?"

Officer Robin Smith is a rookie: a first year sworn cop. He shoves a paper into Nelson's bare chest. It sticks to him, and Robin sits down, hands over his head, elbows on his knees. Nelson examines it to find out he and his fellow officer are under investigation for serious misconduct. Nelson screws up the piece of paper and clenches it within his left hand when the rookie stands up in front of him.

"For god's sakes Nelson! I can't have this. Not Now! I just bought a bloody house! I can't afford to be suspended."

Nelson flicks his eyes behind him, and grabs him by the throat and shoves him against the mirror. "Calm the hell down. It's two cops against one man. The bitch can't even remember what happened. We won the case. It's over. The police complaints authority doesn't have a leg to stand on."

"We should have told the truth." He pauses, "You should have told the truth! Now you're dragging me down with you."

Nelson grinds his jaw, irritated, then pushes Robin's head against the mirror, smashing it.

"Harden up." He says, "It's already too late. Pull yourself together. Like I said they don't have any evidence. This piece of paper is an empty threat from an organization that is a toothless tiger." And with Robin's heavy breathing Nelson takes the scrunched up paper and shoves it in his mouth. "If it makes you feel better. I'll do some digging around. I have contacts in all facets of society."

***

Brandon Rain

Saturday

Visitation.

10 am

One thing I've learned about being in prison, is how time drags. Outside these walls, when I had a job and a girlfriend to go home to, how quickly time revolved. So busy that you wanted more time. Here I want less, you're constantly looking over your shoulder. The paranoia and fear affect my perception of the world. But for 45 minutes I get to see my world. My girl. My hope. Samantha.

I'm one door behind the visitation room. Sunlight is streaming in, making her look so angelic. I can see through the window to Samantha wearing her dark blue jeans and her favorite dark green sweater. Her brunette hair is tied up. She has her smoky eyeshadow making her light brown eyes light up. She is strumming her fingers on the table impatiently. Her heart-shaped face looks so gaunt. All this stress is showing on her body.

I make a mental note to ensure I don't make her worry about me.

The door opens, and I walk over to the table. Samantha leaps up, her pearl earrings jingling. The first thought is to hold her.

I do.

Hearing her sob in my arms hits me in the deep trenches of my heart. I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to cry, but the noise of the inmates around us as they visit their families hardens my heart. I hold the sides of her face.

"I missed you so much, Samantha."

She nods, "How you holding up in here?"

I hesitate, "I'm doing well. One week down. Seven years to go..."

Samantha closes her eyes then shakes her head, "No, don't even think that way Brandon! I'm going to get you out."

"Baby it's done. You have to accept the reality that I'm gonna be here. If I keep to myself and play by the rules, I could be out in three."

"No. I don't want you spending another night in here! You're innocent for Christ's sake." We sit, turning the chairs towards each other. She holds my hands, squeezing them. "I spoke with Matt, he -"

My hands retract, "What!" I say, "The hell are you still talking with him? We should have never let him take the case for me. He was pretty much a cardboard cutout on the whole bloody case, I never should have let you talk me into using him. Damn it, Samantha that was my savings gone on him."

"I know. And he feels bad about it." She says, "That's why he's forfeiting his fee for your appeal to the Supreme Court."

"What's the point? Two cops' word against an account of a wife beater?"

"Calm down. Matt found some evidence that could make our case go to a retrial. I just need to redo my affidavit, and it's positive. We could go back to court."

I look at Samantha, her expression in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. This place is wearing me down already. Tell me what Matt said."

***

Samantha fills in the gaps in my uncertainty. Belief and hope fill my heart. I'm a lucky man to have a woman like Samantha by my side. Rob, the guard, calls out to advise the last five minutes. The last forty of them have gone at a blistering pace.

I said, "If things go to plan, how soon could I go to a retrial? What time frame am I looking at?"

"I don't know. I'll ask, I've been racking my brain on the events of that night."

"The doctor said you suffered some head trauma. I still can't believe that asshole hit you."

"Things are coming back in bits and pieces. Brandon, can I ask you something?"

I sat back, "Yeah."

"Please stay positive for me." She raises my hand and kisses it, "For us."

"I will. Tell me how have things been at home? Are you back at work?"

"Back to work next week. The boss has let me use all my accumulated leave."

"And Daisy. How is she?"

"Gosh, she misses you. She is always scratching at the door to let her out at five in the morning. She still thinks you're going to take her for a run."

"A bit hard to do that in my predicament, huh?" I smiled.

"Very." She said, "I should leave her outside, but she wants to lay on our bed and sleep leaving fur everywhere! She's so cute wrapping her tail around her nose, though."

"Damn, I forgot, it's spring. She's starting to moult. You'll need to brush her every day, outside. I know you hated to do it, but I found it calming."

"Yeah I noticed you liked to do it, after we would argue."

"Had to tell my problems to someone." We both laugh, then the buzzer rings. I stand, holding Samantha. We wait as Rob walks over to take me away.

She says, "The prison guy said I can visit twice a week. One during the weekday and one on the weekend. I still have two weeks that I can use."

"Don't waste it," I say with a surprised look. "Save it for when I get out. We can take Dad's boat for a sail somewhere."

"Somewhere far away."

I nod as Rob takes out the cuffs to chain me up. And the countdown starts. Six days till we meet again.

***

Rob opens up the cell, and I step in. My cell mate Pita Tupou stands and says "Is it true SRT are coming in?"

Rob fixes a stare and nods, "There's too much competition here. I need to flush them out for Jasper's sake. Who told you?"

"One of the newbie guards who smoked a joint with me."

"Well, I better have a word with the newbie to ensure our rivals don't know. Just make sure your stupid ass isn't caught when they come."

"Do you know when?" Pita asks.

Rob shakes his head then glances outside the cell. "No. All I know is it could be anytime this week." He says, "Just make sure."

Rob closes the cell door, and I'm looking at Pita. "Hey, who are SRT?"

"Mind your business, fish."

I grind my jaw and turn on the basin to wash my face. Pita jumps off the top bunk then says "You still got some of that weed I gave you?"

"Yeah, thought I might smoke it the night before I get out of here."

Pita chuckles, "It would have turned bad by the time seven years have passed. Where is it?"

I go under my mattress and take the joint out. Pita snatches it and flushes it down that toilet.

"Hey!"

Pita shakes his head, "SRT stands for Special Response Team. They are cops who come into the prison to assist in the shakedown for drugs and contraband. They do this once a year or if there are grounds for suspicion."

"Cops?"

"Yeah. Volunteers from every precinct come in to rough up a few inmates behind the protection of their body armor and batons. The fuckers even cover their faces to hide their identities. I reckon it forms some sort of stress relief for them."

I swallow.

***

Officer Nelson Dillinger

Saturday

5 am

Nelson Dillinger is hunched over in his seat in the briefing room as the lead detectives, Sione Suarvea and Anna Beckett, brief the exercise. Nelson's right foot is shaking, hands sweaty as he anticipates heading into Mt Eden Prison.

Officer Robin Smith sits beside him giving him a cup of hot coffee. It's Nelsons preferred; black, no sugar. Just a pure caffeine hit. Steam rises from the cup and Nelson blows on it, sending the acrid aroma across to the two detectives.

Anna Beckett flashes a glance at Nelson, looking like she didn't like the beverage at all. She says, "You guys are the first here. We start the briefing in thirty minutes."

"Perhaps you could give us a heads up?"

Anna turns to Sione Suarvea. He says, "Can't hurt. I notice you get nervous around groups of people. You should have taken those public speaking courses they offered at the Hive."

Anna develops a scowl and hisses, "That is such horseshit! I've led over a hundred briefings in front of hundreds of people." She says it in a tone that makes Sione sit back

His eyes widen and he mumbles, "Sorry, just an observation."

Dillinger smirks, then says, "Robin and I have led shakedowns in Mt Eden in the past. Our insights will be valuable for your investigation."

Anna glances at her watch then nods. She brings up the map. "Okay, so this is the map of the prison. There are three blocks with the central hub.

"Looks like a peace sign," Sione says.

"I want to start the search from block A to C. We have about 150 officers coming on board so there will be a guard for two cops who will search the inmate and the cell." Anna glances at Dillinger, who is stroking his jaw, his beady brown eyes twitch when he stands. And points a finger at Cellblock B.

"Detective, the best place to strike, is Cellblock B. Starting from A will only alert the inmates in Cell B and C as you are following a linear pattern. Mix it up to keep them guessing. Also, Cellblock B has the biggest concentration of gang members so a surprise strike will yield the best result. But it is also the most dangerous."

Anna nods in agreement.

Dillinger says, "I did a shakedown in Cell Block B last year. Best time to strike is 3 am. I missed a few guys last year because we did it in broad daylight. You should have heard the synchronized sound of toilets flushing. You would have thought the prison was built in a waterfall. I'm happy to lead if it's ok?"

Anna says, "Done."

Sione looks at Dillinger and asks, "Do you like drinking burnt coffee sir?"

Dillinger smirks, "It's the bitterness that I'm addicted to..."

***

Samantha Evans

Saturday

9.30am

My eyes look bloodshot from having stayed up all night writing the events of the fateful evening. Holding the curling iron, straightening my hair, I'm so excited about seeing Brandon again that the fatigue lessens and my spirits lift. I look out the window to see that it's overcast with a light breeze, quite the mismatch, but at least it's not raining. I stand to adjust my clothing. Black jeans, white blouse and black converse sneakers. I head to the door when I hear the sound of a loud exhaust.

My mind instantly associates it to Matt. His convertible red Ford Mustang. He blips the throttle when I open the door. He's wearing a black shirt with a red tie, his black hair all slicked back. His gray eyes widen when I step down to meet him.

"What are you doing here, Matt?"

"I came to talk to you about the case."

"I'm off to see Brandon today."

"Matt looks at his phone, "Oh shit, that's right. Can I come?"

I squeeze my eyes, "Now wouldn't be a good time."

Matt pauses, "Oh, he's still pissed off at me. Isn't it?" I nod, "C'mon Sammy, let me have a chance to explain? I'm trying to do things right by you."

I interject, "By Brandon."

Matt flinches, "Yes, by Brandon." Matt turns off his car and gets out, "Listen, you know me, and I would never act carelessly with a case. I hate to lose."

"I do know you, it was the reason why I chose to split up, but I knew for the sake of Brandon you are the best lawyer out there. And -"

"I am." He says, "Brandon just doesn't like the fact that we dated."

"And rightfully so. What would you do if you were in the same situation?" I pause "Really?"

"To be honest. I'd get another lawyer."

Matt sighs, smooths his face then says, "Okay I get it. But please relay the latest development to Brandon."

"Shoot."

"First things first, did you finish the affidavit."

"I did. I just need to proofread it."

"Sammy it's not a damn novel! I don't want to know what colour the floor mats are. Point for point."

"I have ten pages."

Matt shakes his head, "Send it anyway, I'll go through it." Matt takes out a piece of paper to give to me. "The supreme court have agreed to set up a trial in two months. It's happening, Sammy. It's the first step to getting Brandon out."

Joy hits my heart, and I react by throwing my arms around Matt and I kiss him. "Thank you so much, I can't wait to tell him!"

Matt holds me and stares with that wounded look.

I say, "Matt?"

"Oh sorry." He says, "Old habits."

There was a silence, when I said, "Look I have to go. I'm gonna be late."

Matt checks his watch and says "Hey, I'll drop you off so you get there on time." He flicks his eyes to my car and says, "You don't want to drive that thing just yet."

"No. I don't. Sitting in it brings back dreaded feelings."

"Done deal. Get in."

***

We arrive at the carpark where we pull up next to a prison officer whom I recognize as the one who escorted Brandon on my first visit. He lifts his mirrored aviator sunglasses and calls out to us.

"Nice car. What do those go for son?"

Matt flinches then replies, "It's a lease car."

"Oh." The officer replies, "Makes financial sense, Cars are always depreciating assets even though they are incredible machines to drive. V8?"

Matt nods, when I say "I have to go."

"No problem. Call me if you want a ride home."

"I'll be fine with the bus."

"OK, send through your affidavit and I'll go through it tonight."

I walk to the gate, and I turn briefly to see the officer chat with Matt about his car. He pops the hood and I watch Matt go on and on, most probably about bells and whistles of his vehicle.

***

I wait in the visitation room when I see Brandon come out again. The prison officer takes a seat and watches by the desk when Brandon holds me. I notice he's put on weight, not the bad kind, his muscles feel firm.

I say, "What are they feeding you here? It's like I'm getting thinner, and you're getting bigger."

We both laugh, Brandon leans forward and kisses me. It's the way he does it that gives me that sense of being deprived of any intimacy. The look in his eyes of want and need. He runs his hands around my waist.

I said, "A shame conjugal visits are not allowed huh?"

"Tell me about it. Each time I see you, I miss you more and more."

"Same."

"I might die of blue balls before you get a chance to get me out." He laughed.

We sit down, and Brandon points to the vending machine, with its selection of chips and sweets, and Brandon points to the snickers bars which are his favorite. I go over to get one when the officer who was talking with Matt comes through. I hand the chocolate to Brandon, who immediately wolfs it down.

"Your lady had a sweet ride, Brandon. Convertible Mustang I'd sell my left nut for." The officer says as he walks past. Brandon stops chewing then his eyes flick to me.

"Matt dropped you off?"

I nod when Brandon puts down his half-eaten bar.

"I want another lawyer."

"No! Brandon." I say "He's working on our case for the retrial."

"I don't care! We can find someone else. I don't want that weasel around you!"

"There is nobody else." I say, "Stop being a jealous idiot and suck it up."

"Seems like you're the one doing the sucking." He mumbles.

"Excuse me?" I stand when Brandon grabs my arm and tries to wrench me down.

He says, "I'm sorry Sam. Please sit down."

I pause to see his eyes red when I take a seat. I take his half-eaten bar and finish it off. Brandon puts his elbows on the desk, hands over his eyes for a second before he breathes out.

"Samantha, if the retrial doesn't go our way. Have you ever thought about us in the likely scenario that I'll be here for the next seven years? Jesus, what hell was I thinking to agree to plead guilty and avoid the maximum term of 15 years?

"Brandon. Matt told us the evidence at the time would not have got you off. If it weren't for him, you would be doing 15 years!"

"I know. Seven years is still too long."

"Not with good behavior. You'll do 3 years at most. If the retrial is successful, you could be out by the end of the year."

Brandon looks out the window as he watches the lines of the cars on the motorway. He blinks and points.

"A month ago I drove past this place wondering if the prisoners could see me. In my cell, I can hear the motorway, but my cell window has thick bars and a thick frosted window that lets light in but no view." Brandon holds his palm out as sunlight touches it. He places his face against the window, and points to the right where the cells are. All I see is a glimpse of the bars and the thick frosted glass panels which are about half a meter out from the wall. He points at the sun and the cloud above it which looks like the shape of a bird "One month in this place, and it starts to change you. They take everything away from you. The men in here are fucking animals. It's only time before I start to lose it in here."

Emotion hits me when I place my hand on his. I take out my wallet and slide out a passport photo of me. I open up his palm and put it in the middle. Tears spill from my eyes falling on the photo then Brandon closed it

I said, "Then take this photo of me, so you don't."

***

Brandon Rain

Sunday

2am

I'm lying on the bottom bunk. I hold Samantha's photo before sliding it above me. Having that photo is a great comfort to me. Her eyes looking at me. My imagination goes wild thinking and dreaming.

Sometimes when you look at a picture long enough your vision blurs. Eyes start to water, but you don't want to blink. Then you see it move as if Samantha is with me in real life. I breathe out when that happens, and my eyes close as I fall asleep. When I was a free man I went to sleep with Samantha by my side, and when I woke up it was the same. At least this is a deviation of that. The image of her in my mind, her love tempers my heart.

I dream.

I wake in my cell to clutch the bars breathing in the fresh air. The noise from the motorway engine noises, sounds, tooting. Then I feel these arms snake around my waist. I feel lips press on my shoulder blade. Then I hear her voice.

Brandon...

I turn to see Samantha but this time, our surroundings morph, and we are back in our bedroom. She is wearing white lingerie, she is sitting on my thighs. My hands hold her hips before I smooth them up to the arc of her breasts. Teardrop shaped. Supple and magnificent. My fingers massage her breasts to the point where she closes her eyes and moans. She leans forward and the weight of her body falls on my hands and the pressure of my massage increases.

I whisper, "Every night I dreamed of touching you like this. Caressing you. Kissing you."

She moans, "I like it..."

She grabs my wrists and squeezes which make me release my grip. She lifts her firm rear up and guides my hands to her panties. I slide them down. My cock twitches with the need to be inside her. My mind is fighting to take her but at the same time, I want to relish every second of foreplay before I enter.

I roll her on her back, her hair falls on the pillow. Her glistening brown eyes I'm used to seeing become enveloped by her dilated irises. Her legs lift as I slowly slide her panties down to her ankles and my fingers caress them. Teasing touches that send jolts up her body.

I flick away the panties and nudge her legs apart. Every inch of me is screaming at this point. Samantha breathes with a rhythm that sets the pace. I want to penetrate her. Desperation, desire and love fire through my veins and deep into my cock.

I want her

Need her

She makes me complete.

What I crawl up my first kiss is her inner thigh. A slow wet kiss that lasts for a few seconds.

I crawl up to her pussy blowing gentle warm air on her. Samantha runs her hands down and begins to rub. I crawl up to her beautiful face, she lifts her head as I kiss her. Her hands grasp my cock. I shudder from her touch. It twitches, wanting her hot wet body.

I whisper, feeling the tip of my cock smear against her heat. Her legs wrap around. All that is left is to thrust inside her deeper and deeper "I waited a long time for this...."

BUZZZZZZZ

I jolted out of bed hitting my head on the top of the bunk. The photo of Samantha drops and I clutch it. Pita is by the bars pointing at the guards in riot gear marching below. Immediately I hear the synchronized sound of toilets flushing. Rolls of toilet paper start to stream down on the guards like confetti.

I say, "The hell is going on?"

Pita smirks, "That sound is the prisoners flushing their contraband down the toilet. Rob's way of eliminating the competition."

I watch as the line of guards walks up the stairs to line up in front of the cells. Each cell has a prison officer accompanied by two men in armour. Rob stands in front of mine.

Rob says, "Hands against the wall. Pita get out of the cell." I watch as Pita walks out. I look at the guard, who nods. Rob and Pita turn the other way as the armoured man comes in. He's holding a baton when he lifts up his mask.

It's the cop!

WHACK!

He strikes me in the kidneys. I fall to my knees. The pain feels like I'm stunned, constipated and out of energy all at the same time. He slides the baton to my throat and lifts me up. I hiss and spit.

"Did you think I'd let you get away with you did, you little cunt?" My jaw grinds as he increases the tension. "You think you're safe in here getting three meals a day while I've had to learn to walk again? While the doctors fix these scars on my face that are stuck with me for life."

He pushes me to the bars, and I taste the fresh air.

I say, "Good job. One day I hope you get exposed for the scum that you are."

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK

He strikes me in the back then turns me around. I see him for who he truly is – a piece of shit who hit my woman and lied to put me in here.

Whack

He strikes me in the jaw. Blood seeps from my lips. I spit on the ground.

"You think you are so tough with your chicken shit baton and armour. God help you if I get out of here."

Whack

"Shut the fuck up!" I look up as he takes out a bag of marijuana and smirks. "Have fun in the hole..."

Whack!

He hit me right in the forehead, and I hit the ground. When I look up at him holding the bag up to the officer, two more guards rush in, cuff me and take me off to solitary confinement.

***

Solitary Confinement

The hole

Despair

I wake in a cell devoid of space. I sit up to see to my right the steel door with the slider. The wall in front of me is about two arm's lengths away. By the head of my bed is a stainless steel toilet and a small sink above.

The light comes from the fluorescent bulb above me. Its buzzing sound makes me numb. I can barely breathe. I spot the grate in the wall. I place my face beside it to calm me. Feeling the faint flow of air. My body is aching, and I wipe the dried blood that has crusted on my right eye. I reach over to the sink and switch the tap on, watching the stream of water before cupping to splash my face. I look at my blood soaked pillow for a moment before I turn it over. I stand to limp to the door.

THUMP THUMP

The door is so thick that the sound is muffled.

"Hey!" I scream "Let me out!"

I hit the door again before becoming tired. I sit on the bed squinting at the light coming through the window. Fatigue takes over, and I lie on the bed to sleep. Hours pass. I lose track of time but my bruised and battered body only wants to sleep and in my dreams, I'm tormented again by the nightmares of my beating.

SHUCK

My eyes open to see a tray slide through the bottom. I walk over to open it; peanut butter sandwiches and a carton of milk. Yesterday it was meatloaf. Before that, I don't remember. I look at my fingers to count the number of times six. I try to remember the frequency. The time. My thoughts become muddled. I scratch my beard when I pull at its length. I can grasp it with my fist.

I bob down to look at my reflection in the stainless steel. My hair is long. Nails are long. I look like a vagrant.

And that is the most dangerous thing about being in solitary: the madness that starts to take hold of you. I put my head against the door. I can hear the muffled screams of the other inmates. To offset the madness I look at the photo of Samantha. Thinking about her wants and desires. I should have married her...

I start to think of the word I want to say, how she would react. I start speaking aloud.

"Samantha Crystal Evans... from the first..."

No. She hates being called by her full name, sounds too formal. Speak from the heart, Brandon, you idiot. Say what you feel.

"Sam, you know I love you so much that I'll do anything for you. But what you -"

THUMP THUMP

"Step back!" A voice commands as the peephole is opened.

I step back and recognize Rob, who is pinching his nose. He leans by the door as the bright fluorescent light burns brightly behind him.

"Jesus you look like shit." He says "Who the fuck were you talking to? Jesus?"

"No one." I cough, "What was that cop doing in my cell?"

Rob looks outside when he steps in. He hunches down eye level with me.

"Listen. Officer Nelson Dillinger is just some dirty cop who wanted to take his shit out on you. It's a shame that your circumstances had you run into him. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not gonna sugar coat it for you but being here is gonna be the safest place you can be."

I shake my head "I can't stand another day in the hole. It's messing with my mind. I'm literally going insane in here."

I smooth my face, "I've missed out on my visits with Samantha."

"Yes. When she turned up I told her."

"What day is it?"

"Saturday" he glances at his watch, "The time is 7:04 am."

"Rob. I have to get out of here. I'm fine. I have my retrial in maybe two to three weeks. I'd rather risk it in the general population and have my visits back than to be cooped up in here."

Rob stands up, and his mouth turns inwards. I look at him "I have to see Samantha today..."

He nods, then shuts the metal door. He looks through the thick Perspex window, then says, "Six weeks..."

I bolt to the door hitting it with my fist. Rob is just staring at me, emotionless, as I swear my head off.

***

Samantha Evans

Saturday

10:01am

I stand with the other families outside the main gates of the prison. For the past six weeks, I have been sick with worry from the lack of information they gave me. The response I got was that Brandon doesn't want to be seeing me at this time. Which I knew to be utter lies. I held my umbrella while the rain pelted me. I watched as a woman with her two kids huddled close to her as she shielded them from the rain.

Gosh, it got me that those kids so young are to grow up knowing their father in a jail cell. What an effect it will have when they become older. The line shifts and just before the gate, I recognize one of prison guards who was with us. I grab his arm as he walks out.

"Sir, is Brandon ok?" He pauses and looks down to the ground. "Please Sir, Brandon's retrial is in a week!"

He flicks his eyes up and says "Brandon is okay. He was caught with contraband and got six weeks in solitary confinement."

"What!" I say, "What kind of contraband? Brandon doesn't do drugs."

"Ma'am, it is what it is. Come back in six weeks' time."

He tries to walk away. I wipe the tears from my eyes. I grab his arm.

"Come back in six weeks' time!" he screams.

He shouts so loud that I release my grip. I smooth my face when I look at the two kids who are staring at me. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn. It's Matt.

"You alright? What was that about?"

"Brandon is in solitary confinement for the next six weeks so he won't be able to attend the retrial next week."

Matt shakes his head and strokes his jaw, "I'll see if I can get a court injunction to get him out of there to attend the trial. But I'll have more luck, I think, getting an adjournment."

"Another one?" I say, "How many times can we adjourn?"

He nods, "It's down to the mercy of the judge, but I have to give a very good reason now."

"Will my affidavit be enough?"

"No, but when I went through the novel. I did find something, hence the reason I came over here straight away."

"What is it?"

"When you described the events prior, you mentioned you and Brandon were arguing. You touched on the weather, how the rain was so directional, the wipers -"

"Were streaking from the worn rubber... sorry can't help with the way I write."

Matt's eyes light up, "No! That was perfect. What did you write after that?"

I put my hands on my mouth as I remembered. "The blinking red lights on the dashcam!"

"Yes! That's it. You said that in the struggle it got knocked. Tell me, does it record sound as well as the picture?"

"Only video in high definition, I think. But it was moving about on the dash before it fell on my lap, before we crashed. It must have gone under the seat."

"Sammy, please tell me if you saw the dash cam when you got the car back from the investigators?"

"Yeah I pulled it from under the seat. It was hanging on its wires so I can see why the investigators missed."

Matt shrugged "Normally they are thorough. But anyways let's shoot back to your house and play the footage. If it plays out right, I can use this as a reason for an adjournment."

I breath in deeply and hope enters my heart. I can't wait to see the footage the dashcam captured. Fingers crossed that will be enough to set my man free...

***

Officer Dillinger

Saturday

12pm.

Carpark at Burger King.

Nelson Dillinger sits on the bonnet of his police car, licking the mayonnaise off his fingers. He chews down on the third of four chicken burgers to satisfy his insatiable appetite. The rain has stopped and the sun comes out turning the puddles to steam.

His eyes flinch when he spots Rob driving in his tiny hatchback. He winds his window down as he and Nelson stare. Nelson screws up the burger wrapper and throws it.

"There's a bin for that, you know," Rob says.

Nelson laughs as he takes out another burger. Rob gets out and sits on his bonnet, pulling out a cigarette. He lights it, breathing in deeply, blowing the smoke below.

"Here, take my last burger. It's sure as shit more healthy than that crap you're smoking."

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, you'd want to eat this one..."

Rob raises a brow when he takes the bag. He inspects it to see the burger, but below are thick wads of cash. Rob flicks away the cigarette and takes the burger out to eat it."

"Healthy choices huh?"

"Yeah, healthy choices."

Rob bites half of the burger and chucks the rest away. The seagulls and sparrows swoop down and start eating the leftovers.

He says, "You put me in an uncomfortable position with that big call you made."

"It was necessary to give Brandon what he deserved, and to keep him out of my hair."

"The dude was already convicted, so what was the fucking point?"

"The point is... that piece of shit did this to me?" he points to his face "And I sure as shit didn't want him to have any chance of a retrial."

"You're overreacting. Who is going to discount the accounts of two fine upstanding police officers like yourselves...?"

"Watch it..." Dillinger growls.

Rob exhales as the birds flock away to their next meal. "If Jasper finds out that it was me that ratted him out, I'm a fucking dead man inside and outside prison." He looks at the stack of cash, pondering if it was all worth it.

"Listen, the amount I paid you will cover your sick wife's medical costs. How long was it going to take you by smuggling small bags of weed into prison? One? Two years?"

Rob grinds his jaw as he looks at Nelson, "Before I left, I saw his girlfriend. Damned woman was crying her eyes out."

"So?"

Rob scratches his jaw, "Nothing..."

"The reality of the situation is, Brandon is going to do the seven years and for each of those seven, I will be there one day to give him the beat down of his life."

"You're fucking insane, you know that?"

Nelson says nothing. Sips on his diet coke. He throws the empty cup to the ground and the ice scatters. He catches glances from a young couple who turn to go inside.

Rob says, "Littering is an offence, you know."

Nelson hissed, "So is smuggling... be careful or else you'll be doing seven years like Brandon."

***

Brandon Rain

Five weeks later.

It took me two weeks before I started to lose my mind in the cell. Human beings by nature are social creatures, so when that freedom is taken away, it affects inmates in various ways. I press my face against the window. I look across to see an inmate thumping his window, screaming to get out.

The bloke has only been in for one week and already he starts playing up by flooding his toilet and sink. The water comes streaming across carrying toilet paper and faeces. The man is crazed, covering the window which is a big no-no. The prison officers gear up in riot gear, knocking on his door for him to clear the window.

He refuses.

Two officers storm in and pull him out. He's naked, covered in shit as they take him to the rubber room; a place where the walls are padded and you are strapped up in a straitjacket. The inmate in the next cell played up the night before using his razor to cut himself. He smeared his windows with blood, drawing a pentagram.

I sit back on my bed staring at the flickering light and the buzzing sound. The mind can only think of a million things before you run out of subjects. No books, no TV or radio, I stare at the walls memorizing every crack and blister. For 23 hours of the day, this is me.

I hear a thump at the door when the guard tells me it's time to go for my exercise like a freaking dog. For an hour of the day, I get to go outside into what they call the cage. Six meters across by ten meters in length. I take my shirt off and do press ups and chin ups. I hang on the fence and do raise ups. Exercise is only the legal high you can do in here. I understand why, in a place like this, drugs fetch a premium. Prisoners will do anything to escape this place mentally.

A pouch of tobacco has a value of 400 dollars! A cigarette sells for ten dollars. There is an economy in this place, and now I'm suffering the consequences.

I notice Rob approaching, sliding his baton on the fence. The scraping sound makes me track him to the door, my jaw grinds, disgusted at this man who turned his back while I got beat.

"Hey! Get over here!"

"What?"

"You're getting out of the hole to return to the general population."

"I had another week they said."

"I pulled a few strings, any longer in the hole you'd probably kill yourself."

"Thoughts like that did cross my mind..."

"It happens to everyone that comes in here. When I watch the news to see those terrorists who torture people that's nothing compared to the shit you've been through. Although I'm in two minds about solitary, some people do need it. The crazy ones and guys like you who have been setup."

"The hell you talking about setup?"

"I'm giving you a heads up. That cop put in the word that you will be fighting in Jasper's fight club. So be ready."

"I'm not fighting anyone!"

"You have no choice." He says, "Shit, inmates are already placing their bets."

I rub my eyes, "What are my options?"

"You can leave and fight. Resuming your visitations. Or you can stay in the hole."

My hands clench the fence. I'm paralyzed by the decision.

"Well?"

I nod.

***

Samantha Evans

We arrive home, and I dart over to my car. I open the glove box, so relieved that the dashcam is there. I inspect it to see splotches of blood. The LCD screen is also cracked. I switch it on to see if it still works. The LED light is red, indicating that it needs to be charged. The battery in my car is dead, so Matt takes it, and we walk to his car. He plugs it into the cigarette lighter and switches his car on. My nerves are on edge as the screen backlight gives this white glow behind the screen. I grab a tissue to wipe the blood.

"No, don't!" Matt says, "If moisture gets in or you press against the screen you might damage it."

The company logo boots up, my nerves are on edge.

Then the screen becomes garbled. "No! It's broken."

"Wait."

Matt turns the dashcam around and stares, then he picks at the crusted blood that reveals a rubber seal. He peels it away and presses on the end when a piece of plastic pops out.

"What is it?"

Matt smiles, "Freedom."

He hands it to me, and I recognize it. It's an SD card to which the dashcam records.

"I have a TV that supports SD cards inside. C'mon, I'll get this thing booted up."

In our lounge, I flick open the bottom front panel to reveal the SD slot on the TV. I slot in the card, and it boots up with two thumbnails. One was from the day before: an image of the road and the day was sunny. The next one had a picture of the road where Brandon worked, rain on the windshield. That's the one.

I turn to Matt, who is by the cabinet holding a photo of Brandon and I on a beach in Hawaii. It was taken two months into my relationship with Brandon. Matt blinks then he looks at the other photos.

"Matt?"

He jolts, "Yeah." He places the frame back on the shelf. "Sorry."

"I got the footage."

"Great, play it."

Matt sits on the couch next to me and pulls out his notepad.

"Okay, before we start I'm going to record the date and time. I need you to pause it when I say, so I can do a timeline of events."

"Play?"

"Go"

The footage starts off with me driving on the road.

"Great!" Matt says, "We got audio too."

Everything replays as I remembered, then it hits me, about the argument I had with Brandon. I press fast forward when Matt stopped me.

"Hey, what are doing?"

"Taking you up to the bit when the cop came."

"No, I need to watch everything."

"It was just an argument Brandon and I had. It's not relevant."

"Sammy, it is." Matt flicks through his notes, where he brings up the statement of the officers. "Look they both said that Brandon was driving. I need to listen to audio and watch for any clues of that."

Matt puts his hand on the remote, and I exhale letting him grab it.

Gosh, so embarrassing having an ex-boyfriend watch the argument of getting married. Compounded even more when I turned down Matt when he proposed to me. I turned to him to see the look of hurt in his eyes. His eyes were red. Muscles in his jaw popped. He was fighting the emotion inside to look at me.

"There." He paused the footage and there was an image of the road ahead, but the heavy rain obscured pretty much everything.

"There's nothing there."

Matt flicks through his notes when he says, "So you picked up Brandon from work where he works as a mechanic."

"Yeah."

"What was he wearing?"

"His hi-vis overalls."

Matt takes the pen and points at the outline. "In the cabin, you can see the reflection on the dashcam. That confirms he was a passenger. Play." We continue. The dashcam recorded right up to the time we got hit.

"Stop!"

Matt says it so loud I get a fright. The image of the dashcam recorded between my legs shows me driving and the officer's face as he reached in for the first punch." Matt looks at me, then says, "We got this son of a bitch."

I smoothed my face, and said "Hopefully Brandon will be out of solitary when I see him to tell him the good news.

***

Brandon Rain

The sound of my cell door opening alerts my inmate, Pita. He sits up and scratches his head as I step inside. Now I have space, a TV to watch and books to read.

"Well, look who's back from holiday, pumpkin!" Pita says "You enjoy it?"

"Shut it will ya?" I say, "When can I use the phone here?"

"Lunchtime, Fish.

Pita starts chuckling as I sit on my bed smoothing my head. It's 10 am Friday and sounds in the whole cellblock overwhelm my senses. He rambles on and on, and I start getting a headache. I guess that's what the hole does to you, being alone in a quiet room. I need to call Samantha asap to tell her I'm out. I lie on my bed looking at the top just about to put the photo back in place. Pitas head drops down from up above, and his hand is holding a plastic cup.

He says, "A welcome back present." I take the cup and smell it. "Go on, drink pussy."

"Smells like piss."

He jumps down and takes the cup and takes a sip. "I assure you it's not."

He hands the cup, and I drink. "Immediately I start coughing as the alcohol coats my lungs.

"How the heck did you get that in here?" I say "tastes like wine."

Pita smiles, and he lifts my pillow by my feet to show me a plastic bag with more.

"We call it hooch but to the initiated my brother, it's called prison wine."

"The hell is in this thing." I take another sip, and it starts to taste better, "Homebrew huh?"

"Yeah, grape juice with apples, oranges fermenting in this plastic bag here. Apparently I have the best hooch in here, dudes are paying me for it."

"How did you get the yeast?"

"Ah, my secret ingredient."

He opens up the bag more, and there is a sock tied up amongst the alcohol. The smell is putrid when he shows me what looks like soggy bread."

"Bread?"

He nods, "Mouldy bread."

I wince, looking at the green growth when he says "You know the secret to my wine that has all these guys lining up?"

I drain the rest of the cup, "What?"

"My sweaty sock...."

Instantly I spit out the wine spraying it like a geyser. Pita is cracking up laughing, and he assures me he's only joking. I wipe my mouth and look to the window hearing the comforting sound of traffic.

"Hey Fish, on a serious note..."

"I know." Coughing, I turn to him. Pita has his arms folded, stroking his chin.

"It's fucked up I know, but everyone that's been through here has been in the fight club."

"Even you?"

Even me." He says "It's a rite of passage here. You man up or become known as a bitch."

I shake my head, "All I wanted to do, is do my own thing and not get in anyone's way. Do my time and already I've been beaten up, and I have to go through the same shit again!"

"Rob gave you a choice remember. Told me you were a dumb motherfucker for wanting to come back."

"Am I?" I say, "What happens in this fight club."

Pita sits down and takes a sip.

I ask, "What did you do to get in here?"

"Honestly?"

"You don't seem to be a guy to murder a man in cold blood."

Pita smiles, then says, "I was sent here because I was implicated in fraud. I'd just started work at a bank when suddenly I had millions in my bank account."

"Damn!" I say, "Did you actually see the amount in your account?"

"Yeah. I can relate when you say you were in the wrong place at wrong time. I was caught buying an engagement ring for my girl."

"Huh?" I say puzzled. "You said you were... "

"I used my own money." He says "I fell in love and got fucked over when I used to fuck women for money."

"You use to be a male prostitute?" I say, "Like gay for pay?"

He frowns. "No. Gigolo for rich and wealthy women exclusively."

I crack up laughing at how ridiculous he was sounding. "C'mon don't bullshit me."

"God's honor." He says, "So you can imagine when Rob found out how he used that against me. Said if I didn't do as he asked he'd tell everyone in here and said I'd be turning tricks on the inmates." Pita smooths his face, "You should have seen what happened to a paedophile that got sent here."

"Shit what happened?"

"Rob showed his charges by sticking them up on the wall. As soon as the inmates got wind, he got beat within an inch of his life. I held the door while the guy broke off a broomstick and stuck it up his arse. You'd think being here with all these low lifes that they wouldn't care but when it comes to kids... jeez. That's prison justice for you."

I ponder, thinking about my situation.

"When I got stepped out, I took on one of Jasper's prospects. They paid off a guard to look the other way." Pita stands up and smooths the wall. Chips of gray paint can be seen on his hands. "They did it in this very cell. Four of them come into the cell, two each end. There's no weapons, just bare knuckle fighting, anything goes. Damn, did I take a beating, my face was so fucked up. I was stuck in medical for two weeks. The fight was a mismatch since the bloke used to be an MMA fighter."

Pita brushes off the paint chips, "All I remember was these paint chips on my bloodied face..." I swallowed "You done any martial arts or boxing?"

"Boxing learned off my old man. I use to hit the bags every week for exercise."

"Good, so at least you have something under your belt. All I knew was how to charm women and get paid handsomely for it. Didn't help me in here and I wasn't going to suck another man's dick either."

"You in here for illegal prostitution too?"

"No, mine is a long story, but I'm innocent you know."

"Yeah, Rob seems to think it's the cliché that goes around here."

Pita chuckles, "That stemmed from me probably pleading with the dude. Damn, I was such a bitch when I came in here. Would have been with Jasper's crew if it wasn't for him being his go-to guy for the weed he brings in.

"I saw the pouch when I came in."

"Jasper started playing hardball with Rob, short paying him with the amount of weed he was bringing in. Rob couldn't do nothing about it but at the same time, he needed the money for his missus."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She has cancer or some shit. I don't know why he bothers. I'd be putting that money away for when she goes six feet under."

"So both those assholes Rob and Dillinger set me up so they could teach Jasper a lesson."

"More or less."

"Can't I just go to Jasper and tell him this all a misunderstanding?"

Pita laughs, "Nothing you say will change what is going to happen to you." He says, "You have two options: fight or take a beating."

I pause to think about the consequences of my actions. I take the passport photo of Samantha and stick it on the wall where Pita put his hand.

Pita said, "Well Fish, what's it gonna be?"

I glance at Samantha and say "Fight."

***

Samantha Evans

Friday 12pm

I'm sitting at my desk, staring at the empty call queue. I'm covering for Wendy while she goes to lunch with her new boyfriend, Paulo. I stare at the picture of Brandon and me on his boat as I hold the selfie stick. The weather was perfect. A setting sun and my man holding me, kissing me on the neck while I concentrated on taking the perfect photo.

Gosh, I probably took ten or twenty before I got this one.

I ran my finger over his jaw, the picture taken just as he pressed his lips to my cheek before whispering I want you, over and over again. Suddenly the LED light flashes and I have a call. I answer.

"Welcome to Hunter International, you're speaking with Samantha. How may I help?"

"Sam..."

A shot of emotion hits me. I recognise the voice.

"Brandon..."

"Baby, I don't have much time on this call. I just wanted to let you know I'm out of solitary confinement."

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you everything when you visit tomorrow."

"Hey, I got some good news from -"

"Sam I have to go. I love you."

CLICK

I look my call center software to see the queue of callers that have backed up. Wendy arrives with a look of disappointment.

"How was the date?" I ask.

"Is it a wrong impression if a guy pays for meals with coins?"

I shrug, "Could have had a lot of change to get rid of I guess."

"Sam, the meal cost seventy fricking dollars. The dude pulled out two five dollar notes and the rest in coins."

I raise a brow, "What does this guy do for a job again?"

"Investment banker."

"Really?" I say "Sounds like to me with the change he carries, he could be a window washer."

Wendy chuckles, "God, I hope not. I finally found someone who has a decent job." Wendy sits down and directs the calls from the queue to other operators.

I say, "Brandon called me just before."

"Really."

"He's out of solitary confinement."

"That's great, so you seeing him tomorrow?"

"Yeah, speaking of which I need to call Matt so he can come with me to explain the ins and outs of the appeal case."

Wendy goes all silent, and she takes a sip from her drink bottle. She does a thing with her lips when she starts holding back.

"What?"

"Isn't it weird having Matt back in your life again?" she says, "Handling your case and all."

"I had no other choice. I knew Matt was an excellent lawyer."

"But not a great boyfriend."

I pause.

"I saw him drop you off to work this morning. Are you..."

"Wendy!" I say "How can you even think like that?"

"Jesus sorry." She raises her head to look at the other operators. "You created a bit of a scene when he rolled up in that fancy car of his. Even when you got out, he was checking you out from behind right to when you walked into the door."

I sigh, "Really? Gosh, I bet there were some comments said, huh?"

Wendy stares at the floor then says, "Yeah."

"Sometimes I wonder why I work here..."

"By the look in Matt's eye, he still loves you."

"I know." I say, "You should have seen his face when I showed the footage of the incident. I brought up the marriage thing before it all went down."

Wendy holds her palms to her face "What!" she says, "And he saw it all?"

"Yeah..."

"I remember when you dated him, he would bring you a massive bouquet of flowers. Annoyed the shit of the receptionist, turning the office into a bloody forest. At least, the place smelled fragrant."

I laugh, remembering the time.

"He proposed to you, right?"

"Who?"

"Matt!"

"Yes, he did."

"Well, you never explained to me why you turned him down. Tall, dark and handsome and rich to boot. Brandon may be a man's man, but when I see those dollars..."

I sigh, "Matt is a driven man. He obsesses over things. His job and money mainly. I just wasn't happy being an afterthought after he chased glory in those things. So how is it when I'm unhappy he has the cheek to put a ring on my finger and think it's all good when he doesn't have the brain to ask me about your feelings?"

Wendy shakes her head, "Must have been real awkward when he saw the footage wasn't it?"

"Matt was two seconds away from bawling his eyes out."

"So with this new evidence you've got, how soon will Brandon be out?"

"I don't know for sure but may be another two months."

"That's if you win right?"

"We will win."

***

Saturday

10:30am

Mt Eden Prison.

There seems to be some event that has traffic pile up delaying my arrival. I wait in the visitation room watching the other families talk with their sons who are imprisoned here. My fingers tap as I wait anxiously for Brandon. Matt takes a call and hovers over by the window.

The door buzzes and I see him. This time his face looks gaunt, the colour drained from his face, but his eyes light up as soon as he sees me. The dead look in his eyes soon dissipates.

I hold him.

I said. "How you holding up?"

"Good."

"Good? Gosh, you were in solitary for almost six weeks."

"I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it."

We sat at the table, my hands rubbing warmth into his cold hands. Brandon's gaze focuses on the floor. He seems detached.

"You okay?"

He nods "talk to me ..." he says, "How's Daisy?"

I smile, "She misses you. She keeps scratching at the door at 5 am to be let out. I don't bother setting my alarm clock now."

"She must miss me taking her on my morning run around the block."

Brandon's eyes have not left the floor the entire time. It's like I'm taking to a hollow shell.

"Hey!" Brandon snaps out of his trance, "What's on your mind?" I say "No bullshit."

"You said there's a chance of my appeal happening sometime soon."

I turn to Matt, who is on the phone still, his shadow cast upon us. I stand to get Matt. Brandon reacts by grabbing my arm.

"What?"

"I want you to explain." His gaze averts to Matt, "Not him."

"Remember the dashcam you bought for me after I had that accident?"

"Yeah, I do."

"We found the dashcam recorded video and sound of the officer beating me. It's enough evidence for an acquittal. Matt has the recording and is drafting the rest of the case."

I watch as Brandon's eyes dart from me to Rob who is hovering around the tables.

He says, "How soon can I get out?"

"The appeal is next month."

Brandon stares at me, his eyes bloodshot. He appears tired. He starts nodding.

I say, "You'll be out of here in a month!"

Brandon keeps nodding, blinking the tears out of eyes. He pinches his nose then wipes his eyes. I hold him and say. "You'll be free to go in a month. That bastard who put you here will take your place for what he did."

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment then I look up at Rob, who flicks his eyes to me before turning to walk the other side.

Brandon says, "I don't want to worry you, but this place is doing things to my head."

"I noticed."

Brandon shakes his head and takes the can of Pepsi I bought for him. "Sorry if I seemed too spaced out before."

I point to Matt, who is looking at us. I say to Brandon. "Hey, you may not like the man but because of him, we are in this place right now. I brought him along so he can get your statement and he can run through the process for when your day in court comes. It all has to play out perfectly if you want to get out."

He nods.

"I'll let you guys talk while I grab some food from the vending machine. I saw the microwave in the kitchen area. I'll whip us up something nice, be better than prison food, right?"

Brandon smiles as I kiss him on the cheek.

***

Brandon Rain

My smile turns upside down as this prick sits down in front of me. Matt Lincoln was the motherfucker who came over to our house when Samantha and I first dated. The bloke was a mess and still is. Matt sits, and we engage in some good old-fashioned stare down. I still remember how pathetic he was when he asked Samantha to take him back. His words still resonate in my head

Take me back, please!

I'll do anything!

I'm the one!

_You don't deserve to be_ with _that poor piece of shit._

Now that last line was the one that galvanized my hatred for Matt. And now this asshole is apparently my saviour _._..

He says, "Brandon."

"Matthew..."

He takes out the folder and goes through the details of my appeal. He's methodical and cold about what I need to do and how to do it. He reminds me of the lawyers that take on the legal aid jobs. The, 'I don't give a shit attitude, dead behind the eyes approach. I'm here to rack up my hours and get paid'.

The only difference is that he is working for free...

My eyes flick to Samantha, then back to Matt who is finishing crossing the T s and dotting the I s.

I say, "Straight up. Why are you doing this?"

"Samantha needed my help. So I'm helping."

"I mean what is your angle?" I say, "You're never going to get her back."

Matt drops the pen and sits up.

"Yes, that true. But you wanted me to be straight up right?"

"Yeah. No need to be fake it. I'm a straight shooter."

"Honestly, I don't know what she sees in you. Before you came along, she had it all. A home, a man with a good paying job and a career as my legal assistant. And you come along, a mechanic who makes less than Samantha, renting a shit one bedroom apartment which looks like a fucking garage."

My jaw grinds and my hands clench.

He looks at Samantha, who is blowing over the hot meal in the kitchen area.

He says "But my feelings haven't changed for her. I love her and I always will. And her happiness comes first. That's why I'm here. For some fucked up reason which baffles me, you are the one who makes her happy. And if I have to work my ass off to free you to achieve that. I will."

"So you're confident you won't fuck this up a second time?"

"We didn't lose the first time. You got three years with good behavior instead of ten without parole.

"Being in prison isn't what I call winning, dickhead."

The scent of hot food drifts over but for a reason I'm not hungry. I stand and nod to Rob who walks over.

I say, "Samantha, I have to go."

"Go where?" she says looking at her watch "We still got 10 minutes."

"We'll catch up next Saturday."

"But the food!"

"I'm fine. Maybe Matt can eat it. With the shit he's been talking, he must be famished."

Rob cuffs me and takes me away as I see Samantha with her arms folded, staring at Matt.

***

Officer Dillinger

Saturday Night

11:11pm

Speed camera duty

Auckland Motorway.

Nelson Dillinger holds the radar detector catching unsuspecting speeding motorists. The eerie copper glow of Mt Eden Prison can be seen from his spot. He grins, thinking of the beat down he gave Brandon. He spots a convoy of street racers and aims at the first car. The LED display provides a reading of 103km in a 100km zone.

Nelson switches on his sirens, adding a notch to his quota. One shy of getting the record. Nelson joined the force to reduce crime in his community but what he discovered was the police are just another extension of the taxman. A business. He flicks his eye to his partner, rookie Robin Smith. His clean cut look reminds him of how naive he was when he joined. Nelson feels no guilt bringing him in on his act. He grins, knowing he's doing him a favour, saving him from the inevitable.

Nelson's phone vibrates and Rob's name shows up on the display. He gets out of the car and stands by the boot staring at the prison.

"What?" Nelson asks. "I'm in a middle of ticketing some punks who are speeding."

"All in the essence of road safety or revenue gathering?"

"Fuck you." He says "What do you want?"

"Brandon is out of solitary now, and the Head Hunters want a piece of him."

"Excellent. Everything is going to plan."

"Jasper wants him in the next round of fights, though it puzzles me since you intended him to be taken out, right?"

"No, having his appeal thwarted was what I wanted. I can't visit a man for the next ten years can I, if he's buried six feet under?"

"Maybe you'll share the same cell."

Dillinger frowns, "The fuck you talking about?"

"If you abide by the rules and do as you're told you'll be right. You have access to one hour of exercise per day. Meals three times a day. You are allowed visitors twice a week for a period of 45 minutes. Make trouble or get in shit with me I will bring it down to one or not at all. Remember there are gangs in here. Don't be associating yourself with any of them. A man who was once a cop will be ravaged by the sodomites in here."

Nelson spits to ground and hisses, "Quit with the bullshit."

"You like the speech I gave you?" he says "It's the one I use for every inmate that I introduce in here. I heard that Brandon's lawyer acquired a valuable piece of evidence that will make him a free man."

"What evidence?"

"Apparently there was a dashcam that recorded the whole incident."

Nelson Dillinger goes silent, his eyes darting from the headlights of the oncoming traffic to the red tail lights of the passing cars. His mind flashes back to that night and he remembers the suction cup and the device he thought was a GPS device.

"Shit!" he screams, "Are you fucking sure about this?"

"Overheard it with my own two ears. The appeal case with the high court commences in a month."

"If I have to snitch you out to reduce my sentence, I'm dragging you with me."

"Whoa. Hold on there. I was never involved in your fiasco." He says, "Besides you want someone like me to protect you when you arrive here. So don't even entertain that idea."

"I'm not going to jail. I'll make sure of that." Nelson takes out the notepad, "Do you know the name of the lawyer?"

"I do. I'll forward the details after this call. But I warn you, if things go pear shaped don't go burning the bridge you have. If Jasper finds out, you instigated the SRT shakedown you'll be in a world of hurt."

Nelson Dillinger ends the call, staring at the prison. The grin now disappears with the threat of his being in there. His phone flashes with the name of the lawyer, and he gets into the vehicle to access the police database to find his address.

The rookie said, "Who was that?"

"Rob."

"What he want?"

"Nothing. I have loose ends I need to cut."

Rookie flashes him a puzzled look as Nelson taps on the screen for the address of _Matthew Lincoln._

***

Brandon Rain

Monday.

11pm

Pita says, "You can't stay in your cell all day you know..."

I say nothing, standing by the window using the end of my toothbrush to pick at a large bubble of paint. I pick at it, and water seeps from it. I hear two clanks on the door, and it opens with Rob is standing there.

Rob steps in and points his thumb for Pita to step out. He sits on my bed, elbows over knees, hands interlocked.

I say, "Pita told me about Jasper..."

"You up for it?"

"I'm not fighting him."

"You're lucky you got off easy."

"What do you mean?"

"Snitching to cops carries an automatic death sentence in here."

"What! What kind of fucked up prison is this?"

Rob stands up and examines the photo Pita put on the wall. A picture of a forest with a motivational quote, what _you plant now you will harvest later_. He runs his fingers over the words before pointing at the tree.

"Do you see this?"

"The quote?"

"No. The image. Over here you see the sun shining light on the trees. Its leaves take in the light while its roots take in water from the ground, and it bears fruit. Fruit that we eat, that sustains us." Puzzled, he elaborates, he says "When you came here you were like the thick cloud that covered the sun..."

My ears strain when I notice echoes of footsteps coming up the stairs. My eyes flick outside to see Pita stepping aside as Jasper waits by the door with three musclebound men. Tension knots my stomach as I clench the end of the toothbrush. Rob looks behind him and nods.

He says, "I like you, kid, I really do. I can understand why you're doing this for your lady. But like anything, there are consequences."

I said, "For things I was never part of!"

"As I said, wrong place – wrong time."

CLUNK

The cell door closes behind Jasper and his two goons. Jasper begins to unbutton his shirt and the two guys brush past him and grab me to stand in front. One of them takes out a cell phone and starts to record.

I'm standing in front of Jasper, who is now shirtless. Bulging muscles on a 6 foot 5 frame. His ham sized fist clenches and begins to pound on the other hand the size of a dinner plate. His massive traps tense and he angles his neck side to side. I hear the creaks and clicks.

Rob cups my shoulder and goes "Good luck kid." Walks a further distance before Jasper presses his hand on Rob's chest.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Out."

"No, no,no." he pushes Rob back, then points at me. "You stand by the door, don't let anybody in." I walk past, puzzled, when Rob goes. "The hell is going on here!"

Jasper cracks his knuckles and says, "I had new arrival told me you were behind the SRT crackdown last month." He spits out his chewed tobacco and strokes his jaw. "At first, I didn't believe it because you have been a loyal worker. But you knew when they were coming in and you didn't even tell me. My men are in the hole because of you and I've lost most of my product. What I hate more than cops is snitching sons of bitches that try to fuck me over."

Rob jolts when Jasper lays a fist right into his stomach. Rob falls to the floor. Groaning he starts to reach for his baton when the two thugs grab it. Jasper rips his shirt off. Robs gut is hanging over his belt, and Jasper pulls off the personal alarm and puts it on the bed.

"Get up, you fat fuck." Jasper hisses.

Rob stands clutching his stomach, holding his hand up in mercy. "Jasper! Wait I can explain. It's the cop, he set me up!"

WHACK! WHACK!

Jasper does a one-two combo, one to the side of the jaw. One uppercut.

"You're gonna fight me. You have no choice."

"No!" he says "I'm not gonna do it! Let me explain."

"No. I've heard enough of your bullshit for years. Did you think I just short paid you for no reason? When I found out you were moonlighting on the other gangs, you were cutting into my profits. And as much as I wanted to shank your ass. I wasn't going to bite the hand that feeds me."

"You still shouldn't!" Rob coughed.

"But now I have somebody else who will do the same job you did. So I have no use for you." Jasper looks at me and grinds his jaw. "Or your wife..."

"What!"

Jasper nods as the thug behind him plays video footage of a woman screaming. Rob snatches the phone and watches, his eyes red as I hear her being stabbed. He drops the phone his breathing accelerates. His eyes widen he's going berserk.

He screams "Jasper!"

He tackles Jasper to the ground and starts laying into him. Jasper is laughing is his face gets bloodied, taking the hits as if it was pleasure. Like the dude was getting a hard on out of it.

Rob grabs the TV off the table before Jasper reacts, kicking him off.

"Now you're cheating..." he licks the blood from lips and smiles, his teeth all stained.

Rob charges again, but Jasper grabs the back of his head and smashes it against the window of the door. Rob falls back as Jasper nods to the thugs to get out. He walks over and pulls a razor, slicing his neck. Blood gushes like a fountain as Jasper turns to me.

He grins taking out the personal alarm and pressing it before exiting. The first thing that comes to mind is to exit my cell. I bolt for the door when Rob screams out "Wait!" I turn, realizing that with him in my cell I'm as good as guilty.

I grab a towel to stop the bleeding, but Rob shakes his head.

He whispers, "That fucker Dillinger..."

"What do want me to do?"

"Bring me up. Open the door."

I open the door. When Rob hobbles over he's hemorrhaged so much blood his face is white.

He says, "I've done some things..." he coughs and clenches his throat tighter." My wife was the one that made me do the things I did."

"I gotta take you to medical!"

"No!" he hisses "I'm sorry for bringing you into this kid. If I can make things right, you have to know, I told Dillinger about the evidence..."

Rob closes the door behind him and walks midway to start of the stairs before he lets go of his throat and starts tumbling down. The sirens begin to sound and the other prison officer's crowd around at the bottom. I close my door, wiping the blood from the window.

I have to get out of here and warn Samantha.

***

Lockdown

The prison officers lock us down in our cells as if I were back in the hole. Pita is scrubbing splotches of blood off the floor. He tells me that if you don't do it quick enough, it coagulates and makes it even harder to remove. I watch as it looks like he making the mess worse, spreading the blood all over the floor. Pita is shaking his head.

I say, "I have to use the phone to warn Samantha!"

Pita stands and switches on the shower to rinse out the rag. He angles the showerhead to the side to soak up the stains.

"Every time this happens all our privileges get removed."

"I'll call a guard then."

"Fat chance, they'll just take it as excuse or lie." He wrings the rag, "When they revoke the privileges they just do that."

"Shit!" I hit the wall thinking about Sam.

"Relax Fish, you should be counting your lucky stars or thanking God that you didn't get shanked by Jasper. Who would have known he was gonna flip like that, huh?" he throws the rag at me, and I wipe the blood off the window.

I say, "That cop that put me in here is going after my girlfriend."

"Nothing you can do, Fish. We don't get out until Saturday."

"God, it might be too late." I head over to the sink and soak it in water.

"The only other chance is to write a letter. I could give it to one of the guards to post but don't write your woman's name use a pet name or something."

"Sam," I said taking a piece of paper out to write the message. "Has anyone ever escaped from Mt Eden?"

Pita emits a chuckle "Is that your plan now, Fish. Escape?" he bursts out laughing again when he takes a cup to fill with his prison wine. He passes me one, and I sip pulling the drain plug.

Pita says, "The old facility there were only two escapes. That were enough for the govt to decide to build these so called state of the art cells we're in. Like any prisoner here, we have talked about it. Escaping from a cell like this, at this height, you have zero chance."

"Has anyone escaped from this building in particular in the last four years?"

"None." Pits drains his cup, "No. I do recall that there was one guy who escaped by smashing the window in the visitation room."

"Its four stories down. No one could have survived."

"No, this joker was clever. Used his family to conceal sheets. Pretended the kids were sick. Tied them together. Lifted the table and smashed the window and climbed down. Still he had about a 2-floor drop, but it was enough for him to get free. He jumped the fence and ran across the motorway. Guy had balls."

"Did they catch him?"

"No, they swept it under the carpet. I heard the company gets fined big time if someone escapes."

"Maybe I can try the same thing."

"Doubt it. After they reviewed it, the windows got toughened, and the tables and chair got bolted to the floor. They even put razor wire at the bottom. So even if you made it you'd get caught up in it. Have you seen what razor does to the body?"

"No."

"The barbs are designed to hook into the flesh. The more you struggle, the more it digs into the flesh. Had this bloke once thought he could scale the wall with the razor wire. Barely made it for three meters before he gave out." Pita squeezes his eyes, "The dude looked like he was disemboweled."

I winced, "Wire cutter?"

"In here? Maybe, it could be smuggled in. But that will take time."

"Best chance is to find the metal stakes that connect the razor wire, loosen them, then find some stick to tent pole the wire. You might be able to crawl under it."

I look out the window again to see some of the prisoners mopping up the blood on the steps. There's my stick perhaps.

Pita fills up another cup then says "Isn't this a case of the cart before the horse? The hell are you gonna escape from your cell, Fish?"

I take my toothbrush and pierce the bubble wide open. I notice the moistened concrete surrounding the window begin to crumble in small pieces. But my fear is I may already be too late.

***

Officer Dillinger

Tuesday

10:10pm

Matthew Lincon lives in a house in the affluent suburb of Ponsonby. His house is a bungalow with a white picket fence with two magnolia trees planted by Samantha when they stayed together. Nelson parks across the street, looking in. He sees Matt's silhouette behind the angled blinds.

Tapping the steering wheel impatiently, Nelson glances to houses at left and right. It seems he's the only one awake. Nelson begins to visualize in his mind the events that are about to unfold. The sense of urgency now beckons him to act with extreme prejudice.

As he gets out of the white car, petals from the magnolia tree drift in his direction. A flower that symbolises purity and perfection clings to a man corrupted by greed and ambition.

He knocks on the door and, while he waits, he takes out the Taser. Hearing the lock turn he hisses "One down one more to go..."

***

Brandon Rain

Saturday 5:59am

Lockdown revoked.

As soon as the buzzer rings and our doors are unlocked, I bolt down to the phones to call Samantha. I lift the handset to ring the house. It rings and rings, then I realize she will be out with Daisy, taking her for a walk. Cell phone calls are prohibited. My mind thinks of friends to ring. But I've used up my one phone call for the day. I return to the cell. Pita is making his next batch of hooch.

"Well, my brother?"

"She's not home."

"The letter I sent would have arrived last Monday at latest. How often does she check the mail?"

"It's always me that clears it. So I don't know."

Pita sniffs his cup of hooch before tasting it. He says, "I guess if she read it, she'd be in hiding. She might visit you today, right?"

"I hope so. I wrote in the letter, only if it is safe to do so."

I take the toothbrush and continue digging away the concrete...

***

Samantha Evans

12 hrs. Earlier

5:59pm

Sitting at the dinner table, I poke my fork into the mashed potato. I haven't heard from Matt this whole week. He hasn't answered my calls, and his office says they haven't seen him. The butter begins to melt, and the steam from the asparagus disappears. My eyes flick to the mail piled up that I have yet to go through. I reach out and pull the pile over to me.

I sort out the bills and stack them in one pile, and there is one unusual letter addressed for Sam Evans. Puzzled I turn it over, and it has no sender's address.

WOOF WOOF _GRR WOOF_

I drop the letter when I hear Daisy barking. She only makes that sound when there's someone unfamiliar or if there's an intruder. It must be Matt! I stand to look out the window but can't see Daisy anywhere. I walk over to the door to put on my jacket when I glance at the letter again... In this day and age, I think about the last time I ever used a pen to write something. But hang on, the way he writes the S like the letter J...That handwriting! It's Brandons!

I take the letter when I hear knocking at the door.

I open the letter.

The knocking gets louder. It reads.

Sam its Brandon if you are reading this Get out of the house immediately! The Cop is coming to kill you!

The shock hits me like a ton of bricks as I realize who it is at the door. I bolt into the bathroom, locking the door.

CRASH

The sound of the front door being kicked in. All goes silent. My ears strain for a minute then I hear heavy footsteps. I look through the keyhole to down the hallway. All I see is a figure shining a torch into the room to the left which was the bedroom.

The figure steps out and the beam of light points straight on my door. The light goes into the dining room. My head hits the doorknob making it jingle.

Shit!

The beam of light goes back to my door. I fricking panic. I look through the keyhole as the beam stays there. I step back from the door as the beam of light penetrates the keyhole illuminating the darkness of bathroom. I climb into the bathtub, lying right down, pulling the shower curtain across.

Shit! The lock!

I climb out quickly when I hear Daisy barking again. I use the noise to cover flicking the lock and climb back into the bathtub. Memories of him hitting me come into my mind. The trauma of it all makes me cry. So afraid for my life. Lying there, I look up to see the dripping shower head. Drops of water fall on my forehead, cooling me. The bathroom window is too small for me to climb through. Wind blows in, pushing away the shower curtain.

I hear the knob turning.

I hold my breath.

The door opens, the dreaded creaking sound making me on edge. I cover my mouth to see the light sweep in like a lighthouse warning boats of impending danger. Only this time I'm the boat. I watch as the light goes in all directions. I listen as he steps in two paces. One more and he will see me!

Then I hear this muffled voice say "Fucking wind."

Another voice says, "She's fled."

Muffled speaks, "Somebody talked, c'mon. Let's go."

The light moves away, and I stay in the bathroom right through to the next morning.

***

Officer Nelson Dillinger

Saturday

10:10am

Sitting in the prison carpark, Nelson sips his acrid coffee. Waiting. Ten minutes pass. A taxi pulls up and a girl wearing a hoodie and dark glasses steps out. Nelson stares, stripping away the clothing in his mind to know its Samantha. He allows her one more visit with his man before he cuts the last of the loose ends.

People are predictable, he says.

***

Samantha Evans

Mt Eden Prison

Visitation room.

10:30am

"Sam, I'm so glad you're alive!"

Tears slide down his cheek as I hold Brandon. "I got the letter in the nick of time. He broke into the house. The bastard nearly got me."

"Are you alright?"

I nod, "I hid in the bathroom and stayed at the bach this whole time."

"We have to report this!"

"Dillinger would have already covered it. We have no evidence. We can't trust any of the police. You can't even prove it was him that came." He says, "Any word on Matt?"

"No. I checked his house and work."

"Shit. He got him."

Brandon spears his fingers through my hair.

I said, "What do we do?"

"I want to you to take a taxi and grab our things. Get the driver to help you collect your stuff and head for the bach."

"Brandon, what you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna meet you out there."

I shook, "What!"

Brandon lowered his voice, "Sam. I'm breaking out of here."

I cover my mouth, "But we can go to another lawyer. We can go for the appeal without Matt."

"Not without the evidence. Dillinger has taken care of that."

Thoughts charge through my mind

What are we going to do?

What about the police?

Brandon leans in, holding the sides of my face to kiss me on the forehead.

"Sam, it will all work out. I have a plan. He boat." He leans back then kisses me on the lips, "Go now."

I leave.

***

Brandon Rain

I watch Samantha leave. The prison guard puts the cuffs on me to take me back to my cell. We walk through the corridors and through the fence line I could see into the carpark. The taxi is waiting and Samantha gets in.

I hear the doors to the cell block unlock. The taxi moves off, when, in the corner of my eye, I see a car follow. The driver's window is down, the person wears a beanie and dark glasses – but that scar.

Dillinger!

I have to get out now.

As soon as the cuffs are removed, I bolt back to my cell. I shut the door behind me and cover the window with wet toilet paper. I grab the sheets from my bed, and pull Pita's from underneath him.

"Hey!" Pita says "The hell is wrong with you?"

"Dillinger followed Samantha here. He's gonna kill her if I don't get to her."

I take away the towel I used to cover the hole I made and remove the bars one by one. Grabbing the laundry bag, I chuck them in there. Then Pita grabs my arm.

"My brother, this is broad daylight. Are you friggin' crazy?"

"I have no other choice!" I say "I need a big favour. Can you start a riot for me?"

"Na man, I'd be looking at a month in the hole, minimum." He says, "Maybe an extra year to my ten-year sentence."

"Please. If I don't stop Dillinger, she will die. Samantha means everything to me. I can't let that happen."

There is a deep moment of silence.

Pita nods, "I knew what it was like to be in love before I came to this place. Sometimes we gotta take our chances for those we care about..." Pita exhales. "I'll do it. I hate crooked cops just as much you do. They are the ones who played a hand in putting me in here without checking the evidence thoroughly."

I start to tie the bedsheets together to make a rope. Pita gets the desk and puts his bags of hooch together.

I say, "You can escape with me you know..."

"Yeah, but I'd rather try my luck with the detective who is looking into my case."

"I remembered him stopping by last night."

I pull myself feet first through the window and feel my shoe touch the frosted glass. I wedge myself between wall and glass and look down.

I watch as the rain streams down the glass panel and walls. The gap is giving enough tension for me to climb down slowly. I peer inside as Pita smiles.

"Here take this!" He hands me an engagement ring. I push back.

"No man I can't take it!"

"Listen to me my brother. They say its bad luck to use a second-hand ring. But I don't believe in that. I bought this with my own money with good intentions. I wish I had a girl like you do, who could have trusted me unconditionally. But I wasn't so lucky. Maybe I'm atoning for my sins as a gigolo, and the marriages I ruined. Maybe that's why I'm here in prison.

I say nothing. My hand reaches out to see how exquisite it is.

Pita says, "At least I know I did some right by making somebody else's life a little brighter."

I clutched his hand, eyes teary. "Thank you."

I begin the descent when the alarms ring. I can hear the commotion inside. I peer through the window of one cell to see a glimpse of the fracas that is occurring. Just the diversion I need.

I reach the bottom, and five meters ahead is the razor wire and a fence that leads to the motorway. I look up to the sky as I get a break from the rain. I bolt to the razor wire fence. I take out the steel bars and used them to tent pole the wire as I crawl underneath. I wriggle my way through half way.

Then the alarms outside ring. I hear the officers screaming. I turn my head and see them running for me. I panic, standing to navigate the rest of the razor wire. In the rush, the wire catches hold of me, slicing my skin. Everything Pita talked about comes true as the barbs lodge in my body, cutting me. It rips my clothes, tearing the fabric and lacerating my forearm. Wires slice my forehead. The pain hits me like 1000 knives.

They get closer, and adrenalin surges through me. I rush through the length. When I make it to the fence that leads to the motorway, I climb up, then see the traffic jam below. I tie the bedsheet to lessen the drop below before sliding down halfway.

I fall in front of a frightened motorist. I blink and wipe the blood from my eyes. In the distance, I spot a motorcyclist weaving through the line of cars. I grab him, kicking him off his bike, jump on and gun down the shoulder lane hoping to God I'll make it time...

***

Officer Dillinger

Dillinger follows the taxi, keeping a two car space back. Following Samantha all the way to their bach, a cottage on the edge of Eastern Beach. He parks up and watches from a distance as Samantha unloads her things. He peers through the binoculars to see a boat tied to a small wharf.

Nelson looks at his watch as the sun sets. Clouds gather and spits of rain begin to fall. He holds his palm out, catching the rain before he smooths his dry lips. His door opens and he waits till Samantha is inside. Clutching the knife, he is about to slit her wrists and tie the last loose end.

"The last one..." he whispers. Watching as Samantha removes her clothes to take a shower, Nelson licks his lips and jumps to the deck, opening the sliding door to slip into her bedroom.

He sees the clothes laid on the bed. Hears the sound of the shower running. Sits in the corner behind the door, scraping the serrated edge against the bristles of his cheek.

Noise of the shower stops. The clunk of the door closing. Nelson watches as Samantha walks in with a white towel wrapped around her. Dillinger angles his head, appreciating her beautiful body. Lust and anger enter his mind when he sees her remove the towel, her naked body exposed.

Nelson stands.

Samantha walks over to the window to close it. The patter of the rain becomes stronger. Torrential. She turns, looking into the face of the man who hit her. She screams.

Dillinger strikes her in the nose with the base of the knife. She falls back clutching her face. Nelson jumps on her covering her mouth with his hand. Samantha tries frantically to breathe through her broken nose.

He slides the cold steel blade over her breasts, licking his lips.

He says, "I remember every scratch you did to me. I counted each one – three in total." He leans forward, flashing the serrated blade in her face. "I'm not sure if I want to return the favor with this or have fun with you..." His rancid breath makes Samantha squeeze her eyes shut, tears sliding to the shells of her ears. Nelson holds Samantha down with such force and strength she can't move.

He puts the blade in his mouth and starts to unbuckle his belt...

***

Brandon Rain

The motorcycle runs out of gas 20 meters from the bach. I run on foot. When I see Dillinger's car, I sprint as the waves from the beach roar up and sea foam hits my feet. I bolt up the stairs and burst through the door. I see that fucker on top of my Samantha.

Before he even gets to turn, I spear tackle him, heading right towards the sliding door.

SMASH

We end up on the front lawn. Dillinger is knocked out. I drag him to the surf. Rain pours. He comes to and hits me on the back of the knees making me fall onto the sand. Sea foam splashes my face as Dillinger gets up and kicks me in the ribs. I fall on my back.

A massive wave separates us, giving me the space to stand. Fists up, I'm staring at the man responsible for all this misery and heartache. He's holding the blade up, stepping in ready to strike.

He says, "So you want to settle this man to man, huh?"

I said, "I told you if I ever made it out what I'd do to you, asshole."

Dillinger drops his knife and chuckles, "Let's see what you got, faggot." He says, "Your girlfriend has the tightest pussy by the way..."

The image of Samantha naked and bleeding riles me up with rage. Like thick gusts of wind and booming thunder. I charge at him, launching a superman type punch to the head. He reacts, ducking and lifting me up underneath the shoulder before body slamming me into an incoming wave.

I feel his hand push my face into the water. I panic, turning as much as I can, but Dillinger's body holds me down like a python coiled around me. A massive wave comes in and pulls us out to sea. The streetlights move further and further away.

Dillinger pops up for air. I start swimming for shore. Samantha, holding the phone, points. I call out to her and she sees me.

Then suddenly my leg gets grabbed. Dillinger folds my arm behind me.

He hisses, "You're never gonna see that bitch again... I'll make sure of that!"

Exhausted, I see Samantha jump into the water. I jolt my head back hitting him in the nose. The hit knocks him out. I grab his stunned body and dive deeper into the darkness below. Nelson comes to and wrestles with me in the water but I keep diving lower.

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the bubbles from Nelson mouth escape. His grip lessens, he lets go.

He can't hurt my Sam any more. Its finished. I look up to see the light above but I've held my breath for long as I can.

I kick with whatever strength I have left to make it to the surface. My eyes are playing tricks. The distance seems so long. I'm terrified. I'm fighting for air. My body is in a state of panic.

The image of Samantha flashes.

I take the ring out of my pocket, clutching it.

I can't hold on much longer.

It is only now I know what to say.

Samantha, I waited for when everything would be perfect. The time when we would have our own home. Money saved. Wedding and ring paid for in full. Material possessions, I thought were important which in the end are meaningless without you.

_You took me in as your man when I had nothing. Fancy things you had when you were with Matthew, things I thought where I had to be. Damn, I didn't have a_ dollar to _my name when I met you. Yet you chose me. All I had was love to_ give _and that is all you wanted._

There is more but my mind fogs...

I release my last gasp of air.

***

Samantha Evans

I see bubbles in the depths, a mane of hair swirling. Light from the moon above shines on Brandon's face. I dive deeper, my lips pressed against his lips. His eyes widen and I feel his moan reverberating my name. I breathe out half a breath to revive him. My breath enters his lungs.

I nod as I use my strength to kick our way up to the top.

It feels like an eternity.

Hold on Brandon.

We can make it...

We do.

I hear Brandon exhale, cough, spitting water.

"Sam!" he groans.

"We're almost to shore. Stay with me."

We move for a moment then we finally hit the ground. So tired, we let the waves push us in our backs flat on the sand.

I say, "It's all over..."

Brandon sits up and I stand, reaching out my arm. He grabs it, then he's down on one knee.

"C'mon Brandon, get up!" I say, "I gotta take you to the hospital."

"Sam, I'm fine." He coughs still holding my arm "It's not over"

"What!" I look out to the ocean to scan the horizon. "Where is he?"

"Wait." Moonlight shines on his face. His clenched right hand shakes when he takes my ring finger. Opening his shriveled hand, there is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen. It twinkles with the moon light, the diamond so pure that if I held it to the stars you wouldn't notice the difference.

Tears slide down my checks. I wipe my eyes. Brandon's grip is firm.

"What I want is to take you as my wife. Things will never be perfect, but I guess that's part of the journey, huh? To live. To love, with you by my side. Sailing together into the unknown with you, the woman of dreams..."

An overwhelming sense of joy fills my heart as he slides the ring on my finger.

I don't even wait for him to pop the question, after waiting so damn fricking long.

I say yes.

Thank you for reading _Iridescence._

Please visit my  Facebook page for more romance stories.

There is plenty more there for you.

The following standalone stories are interlinked with Iridescence

Polynesian Gigolo 1,2,3 – Pita Tupou

Thanks again,

David

