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she was strong and handling things on her own, demons never left. They stayed hidden, and rose up at fucked up times.
    He drove to Chatham View, the town where Fallina and Violet both lived. It was a large city, far bigger than River Run. He knew where Violet lived, because even if he made sure she stayed away from the likes of him, he’d kept tabs on her. He couldn’t let her go in that respect. He pulled up to her street, drove down the quiet, small road, and finally stopped and turned his bike off across the street from her house. He took a hit off his smoke, and stared at the small house about an hour outside of River Run. There was movement behind the curtain, and his heart picked up pace. The one woman that had helped him through this entire process, never let up on giving him support, and had been the one to keep him updated on the motherfucker that he’d just buried in the ground, was only a few feet away. Hell, he hadn’t wanted her to be involved at all, but she was a stubborn woman. Finally she had moved on, or at least backed off, and he hadn’t realized how much that had hurt him, knowing that he couldn’t have the kind of relationship he wanted with her.
    Violet Wings.
    Her name was gentle, whimsical even, but the woman that he’d known for longer than he could even remember, wasn’t just the person that had given him the location of the asshole he’d wasted—even if he was pissed she had kept track of that shit—but the one woman that he shouldn’t want because of who she was.
    You shouldn’t be here, just watching her like a fucking stalker, waiting to get a glimpse of her.
    He took one more inhale from his cigarette and snubbed it out on the heel of his boot before flicking it aside. Yeah, he should leave, but he couldn’t. Spending nine out of the sixteen years he was sentenced hadn’t taught him anything aside from exacting his vengeance when he got out. His brothers had been there for him the entire time, as was his daughter. But it was Violet that had kept writing him despite the fact he told her to forget about him, to move on with her life, and put all of this shit behind her.
    He’d never told anyone that Violet had been hurt by that asshole. He hadn’t told his club, and not even his daughter. Violet had told him in confidence, kept that shit inside of her for years after the fact, and he had taken pleasure in ending that bastard’s life for his little girl and for the woman that he had grown to care about more than he should.
    Getting off of his bike, walking toward her front door, and knowing he shouldn’t be doing this couldn’t have stopped him. He’d only seen her once, years after they had started talking on the phone and in letters, and that was when she had come to the prison. That had been the only time because he had told her not to come back, that the shithole he was living in for all those years was not a place he wanted her to be. And she’d listened, thank fuck, because the men that lived in the prison were not good. Cain wasn’t good, never was, and would resort to things to make his point known, or to protect what was his. He was dangerous, violent, and that was just who he was, who he would always be.
    He found himself standing in front of her house, his hand curled into a fist to knock on the scarred wood. He brought his knuckles down on the door, and there was the woman that haunted his thoughts for far too many years.

Chapter Five
     
    She heard him knock on the door, and although she’d seen him outside, across the street and sitting on his Harley, she was a nervous wreck. Cain was here, right on the other side of her door, in the flesh, and she was going to be totally honest with him. There hadn’t been any more writing, no more correspondences when she had tried calling him at the prison. He’d all but ignored her, and she knew he thought it was because that was what he thought was best. And it killed her that she had stayed away, that he didn’t want