He didn’t finish the sentence, just let it trail off. After one more hard glare, he turned around and strode off. I watched until he got back into his car, not trusting that this was over. If this was the last I ever saw of him, it was still too much.
Shoes scraped against busted concrete and I turned my head, watched as the driver slash whatever the hell he was moved back onto the pitted sidewalk.
“Is it safe to move yet?” he asked, a black eyebrow winging up as he tugged his sunglasses off and studied me with eyes the color of steel.
“You’re one of Ryan’s.” I made it a statement, not a question.
He ran his tongue over his teeth and then shrugged. “More or less. Jake’s the one in charge, but yeah, Ryan brought me in.” He stowed the phone back in his pocket. “So. Robert Cantrell.”
“Name’s Bobby,” I said, correcting him. “You?”
“Thomas Sinclair, but everybody calls me Ace.”
“And why’s that?”
The only response I got was a slight smile. Then he nodded at the suitcase. “You want to straighten that up or just deal with it later?”
I glanced down at the mess Dale had made of my suitcase, all the neatly folded clothes now twisted and tangled. I crouched down and just grabbed everything, throwing it back in. I was just glad it hadn’t been my bag with my books and my mom’s picture. I could only imagine the joy Dale would’ve taken in trashing that stuff.
Ace joined me. “That’s one pissed off cop, Bobby.”
“Yeah.” I had to force the zipper on the suitcase this time and Ace grabbed it, applying pressure with hands the size of dinner plates. The man was massive.
“He hate everybody or just you?”
I thought about it, then shrugged. “He hates me, probably dislikes anybody who doesn’t hate me. Other than that, I can’t say.”
“Why does he hate you?”
I looked up into Ace’s gray eyes. If Ryan hadn’t already told them, they’d figure it out sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. “I killed his brother.”
Ace regarded me with a cool gaze and then nodded once. “That’d do it.”
I stared at him as he picked up my suitcase and put it with the rest of my luggage. How in the world had I found these people who didn’t react normally when I told them who I was or what I’d done?
If life hadn’t taught me better already, I might’ve actually let myself feel hopeful about the future. All I let myself have though was the fact that I actually had a future that, at least for a while, didn’t involve me starving or freezing my ass off. That was enough.
10
One month had made one hell of a difference in my life.
One month ago, I’d been jobless and freezing my ass off while I walked around in my home state of Kentucky. Now, I was standing outside in the warm, soft air of a California spring day, my head tipped back to take in the sun as my mind tried to process everything at once.
Carly lived in a house a little north of Los Angeles. Actually, the word house didn’t quite fit the building I was currently staring up at. Mansion was more accurate...maybe. It was more a modern-day version of a castle, fit for a modern-day version of a princess.
And here I was, expected to be one of her knights.
I heard somebody moving up behind me on the cobbled stone path, and I turned my head. Jake, clad in a polo and khaki shorts, came to a stop behind me. It was edging up on late afternoon, and while his clothes spoke of a man who looked ready to settle down and relax for the rest of the day, it was pretty clear that relaxation wasn’t something that was going to come to him any time soon. Fine lines of pain and strain stretched out from his eyes, and even though it had been less than a month since I’d last seen him, I could see he’d already lost weight.
“Am I going to sound rude if I tell you that you look like shit?” I asked, turning my head back to the small lake.
It was the focal point of what I guessed Carly considered her backyard. It was more like a small park, complete with several gardens, a running path, a swimming pool and an outdoor kitchen. I wondered if the lake was stocked. I hadn’t gone fishing in years.
“You might sound rude, but at least you’re honest.” His laugh was quick and easy. “I’ve got plenty of people telling me how good I look, how strong. They keep telling me I’m going to beat this.” His smile was fond, but sad. “Bunch of liars.”
“Truth is often very ugly.” I thought of my mother’s end. She’d asked me to be honest with her, even at the end.
“It makes them feel better to think I might get better, that I might pull through.” He paused. His voice was rougher when he spoke again. “Especially Carly.”
Neither of us spoke after that, not for several minutes. He was an easy guy to be quiet around, I thought. Easy and calming, kind of like standing there and staring out over the lake. I bet that was part of why he and Carly clicked so well. She needed that calming influence in her life, that steadying presence.
Now she was going to lose him.
“So what’s next?” I asked after a while. I bent down and grabbed a handful of the small, flat stones lining the edge of the path. Hurling one into the water, I counted three skips before it finally sank. “You got me out here. Now what?”
Jake glanced at the stones in my hand and then held out his own, palm up. I dropped a rock into it. He threw it into the water. Five skips.
“Not bad,” I said, looking over at him.
“I grew up in Montana. Dad had a ranch. Spent a lot of time skipping stones on our pond.” He accepted another stone as he considered my question. “What’s next is, we start getting you settled in and then up to speed. There’s a lot more to this job than what you did in Kentucky. You’ll be getting a hardcore crash course over the next couple weeks.” Then he grinned over at me. “Not to mention some other things we need to address.”
“Like what?”
He just shook his head. “Enjoy the night, Bobby. We’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”
That smirk of his should’ve warned me.
My internal clock was all out of whack, and while the clock on my nightstand might’ve said seven, my head and body thought it was eleven, so the good news was that I was already up.
The bad news was that I hadn’t slept worth shit.
Not surprising. Even before I’d gone to prison, I hadn’t slept well, and being there hadn’t done me any good. Plus there was the fact that this wasn’t anything like any other place I’d slept before. The soft bed back at the Seelbach didn’t have anything on this place.
And the bed wasn’t the only thing about this place that wasn’t usual for me. I had my own little cottage, set back on the far side of the lake, a few hundred yards from Carly’s place. They’d told me that five of the six-member team lived on the estate. The sixth member was married, so he worked two days on, two days off. He was the one who’d been away for his daughter’s birth when Carly had been in Louisville, and he didn’t take night shifts. I wouldn’t be taking them yet either. Once I was trained, I’d join in the rotation and take my turn bunking in the house at night.
But first...training and other prep.
The other prep?
I stared at the needle and shoved past the doctor. “No fucking way.”
“You’re getting a physical.” Ryan said as he and Ace blocked the door.
If I wasn’t mistaken, Ace looked like he was holding back a laugh. I glared at him.
“Fine. He can check my blood pressure. I’ll piss in a cup, the whole nine yards. I don’t need that fucking needle jabbed into my arm.” There was a reason I didn’t have any tattoos.
Ace looked over at Ryan. “I thought ex-cons were tougher than this.”
“Kiss my ass,” I suggested and tried to shove through them.
I was shoved back. Not too roughly, but not exactly gently either.
“Sit down,” Ryan said. Amusement lurked in his eyes, but he was nice enough not to outright laugh in my f
ace. “Come on, it won’t take long.”
I was about ready to tell him to move, or I’d shove his teeth down his throat when I heard a woman’s voice. A voice I would’ve known anywhere.
“Hey, Ryan, have you...” Carly’s words trailed off, and I backed away as I caught sight of her coming up behind Ryan and Ace, going up on her toes to peer at me over their shoulders.
Now I really felt trapped.
“What’s up?” she asked.
Ryan studied me for a moment, and then stepped aside and let her enter. “Bobby’s getting his physical done for the insurance package and it seems he’s not that fond of needles.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I tried to ignore the doctor who was inching closer to me, cautious, but clearly determined. Sweat broke out across the nape of my neck and forehead. That needle. Aw, fuck...
I tensed. The bite of alcohol stung my nose and I flinched. My face was burning, but I couldn’t stop the involuntary reaction. I’d always hated needles, ever since I was a kid.
“Look at me.”
At the sound of Carly’s voice, I swallowed hard and tried to find the steel that had gotten me through nearly a decade behind bars. “You know, I had to have one of these things done after I got out. It’s only been a year. Why not just get those records?”
She smiled. “You only had the basics done, Bobby.” Her hands cupped my face. “Don’t look at the doctor. Don’t think about the needle. It’s going to be over with before you know it. Just don’t think about it.”
“Easier said than...” I hissed in a breath as I felt a pinch and started to jerk away, but Ryan and Ace were already there. The thought of having to be held down in front of any woman was humiliating, but having Carly see it happen would’ve been so much worse. I managed to keep myself still.
“See?” She flashed her dimples at me. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“You’re not the one who got stuck with a giant-ass needle.” Still, I kept my eyes on hers and worked on breathing. Because I was so focused on that, I was only vaguely aware of what the doctor was saying. When Carly nodded at me, I nodded stupidly in response without even realizing what I was nodding about.
Then it happened.
Something wet swiped down my right arm. Alcohol. I tensed. They were going to stick me again. My eyes slid down to look.
“Hey, Bobby?”
Instinctively, I looked up as Carly leaned toward me.
“What do you think about my shirt?”
I blinked at her. Her shirt? Dropping my gaze to it, I found myself staring down at the swell of her breasts. Her shirt was just a tank top, worn over a sports bra. She’d been working out. I could smell the scent of sweat on her, warm and clean. I didn’t know why some women got freaked out by the idea of sweating. I found myself thinking about leaning in, licking right down...
Something jabbed me in the arm.
Again.
“Son of a bitch!” Shouting, I tried to jerk away.
Ryan and Ace grabbed my arm as Carly ducked away. It was over in less than ten seconds and I jumped up as soon as I was let go. I glared over at the nurse who was calmly disposing of the syringe. Ace coughed politely as he took a step back, but Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t even blink. The doctor was busy with the little vials of blood he’d collected.
“What the fuck was that shit!” I gestured at the doctor, ignoring the way Carly leaned up against a wall, her hands tucked behind her back. She looked on with wide-eyed interest. Without giving Ryan a chance to answer my rhetorical question, I directed my attention toward the doctor and nurse. “Aren’t y’all supposed to get my consent before you jab me with needles?”
“We did.” The nurse looked from me to Carly and Ryan, a slightly amused smile playing across her lips. “I asked if you had an allergies to vaccines and if you wanted to receive the tetanus shot. Your record indicated you hadn’t had one in well over a decade, so you’re certainly due. You nodded yes to indicate your agreement when I explained.”
My mouth fell open and I looked at her for a long moment before swinging my gaze over to Carly.
She shrugged. “You told her yes.”
“I nodded.” I scowled at her.
“That usually signifies yes.”
I couldn’t exactly argue without looking more stupid than I already felt.
I was a grown man. I’d done hard time. I’d done things that I wasn’t proud of. Things that would have made my mother roll over in her grave. There had been men in prison who’d backed up when they’d seen me coming, and plenty of men outside of prison who went out of their way to stay out of mine.
And I was scared shitless of needles.
“Y’all suck,” I said, moving to the door. “All y’all. You just suck.”
“Ahem.”
That came from the doctor.
I stopped.
“We’re not exactly...done.”
“I’m not getting jabbed with any more needles,” I bit off.
“No.”
Slowly, I turned my head and looked at him. He smiled, but I knew that sort of smile. It was the kind of smile that came with knowing what he said next wouldn’t be welcome.
“We’re done with that, but we have a bit more we need to talk about.”
Two hours later, I was locked up in the little house that was supposed to be my new home. Except if it had been my home, I’d have had liquor available. And I already would’ve been shit-faced drunk.
When the knock came, I ignored it.
It came again and I continued to ignore it.
After three minutes, it stopped and I closed my eyes.
But then I heard the door swinging open a few minutes later and I came off the chair, pressing my back against the wall as I circled around the edge of the room.
Old habits die hard and all that.
I caught a glimpse of him and bit back something ugly just as he came in through the doorway. As Ryan stood there with his back to me, I considered doing something really stupid. It’d be easy...
“If you’re going to do something, do it now.” His voice was level.
Running my tongue across my teeth, I thought about it for two more seconds, and then shrugged the idea off. Mad as I was, fighting was a bad idea. Even if it might feel good. I’d ended up caught up in the mess that was my life all because I’d realized just how good it felt to swing a few punches all those years ago.
Besides, Ryan didn’t deserve it.
“Get the fuck out of here, Ryan.”
I shouldered around him and threw myself back into the chair. It faced out over the wide, placid lake, reflecting the deepening blue of the coming twilight. If I stared at it long enough, hard enough, I could make myself forget what the doctor had made me remember. I could do it.
“Now why would I leave when I came all the way down here just to talk to you?” He took the chair in front of me and placed a bottle in front of me, then set two tumblers down next to the bottle. The green of the bottle glinted at me. He cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry. It’s not bourbon. But I imagine you’re a man who could appreciate a nice scotch.”
“How about I make you eat that nice scotch?”
“Tastes better if you drink it.” He shrugged and cracked the seal.
I watched him, rage bubbling inside me as he splashed some of the amber liquid into the two glasses. After nudging one my way, he sat back in the seat and lifted his own to his lips.
“Get. Out.” I enunciated each word clearly, hoping he’d take the point.
“Nobody else would understand what’s wrong,” he said, ignoring me yet again. “But I get it. It’s been a while, but I’ve been where you are.” He took a sip of his drink. “Well, I can’t say juvie is the same thing as prison, but neither of them are a walk in the park.”
He stretched out his legs and took another slow sip from his glass. Over the rim, he watched me, eyes glittering.
“You know, when I went in, I was about five-eight, skinny as a rail.
Probably didn’t weigh one-twenty soaking wet. I thought I was a tough little shit.”
“Stop.” My gut started to twist. I knew where this was going, and it wasn’t any place good. “I don’t want to hear this.”
He kept going. “I didn’t know anything. I was there a week before I got jumped the first time. A couple of the guards got in there, stopped it before anything really bad happened. Ended up having to go to the hospital, overnight stay.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal.
In prison there were degrees of injury. Injuries that one could mostly ignore and walk off, injuries that required a day or two of medical care. I’d had more than a few trips to the infirmary myself.
“A few days went by and then the same kids got me again.” His voice was softer now. “Except no guards came. I couldn’t stop them.”
Shoving upright, I grabbed the scotch and moved away. I stopped once I reached the door that opened out to a small, private deck, but I didn’t go outside. I just stood there and said nothing. There were things I didn’t want to know, but at the same time, I knew what it was like to have something ugly inside, a poison. And I knew how horrible it was to have to share it. So how could I tell Ryan to shut up when I knew how hard it was for him to say it.
“During those six months, it happened two more times. Same kids each time. One ringleader. Would have happened a third time, but I’d gotten my hands on a shiv. When he came at me again, I...” His voice trailed off.
I looked over my shoulder at him.
He was staring outside too, but as he felt my gaze, he looked back at me. “They pressed charges, found me not guilty. Said it was self-defense. Bruises, broken bones...worse. All of it went back for months. But I’d killed a seventeen year-old boy.”
“What do you want me to say?” I asked, my voice rough.
“You don’t need to say anything.” Ryan tossed back the rest of his whiskey and then refilled the glass. He started to put the bottle back down, then shrugged and tipped some more in. “But I knew what the doctor would ask. I was asked the same thing. And when you came out of there...shit, Bobby. I felt like I was looking at an older, meaner version of myself.”