“Man, you’re making me jealous. Go eat some chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes at Millie’s, too.”
Reid snorted and waved his hand. “I’m outta here. What a lifer doesn’t want to hear about is all the chicken fried steak and ass you’re about to score.” Before he departed, he leaned in close to add, his light-colored eyes, a color caught between green and amber, scanning Knox’s face meaningfully, “You need help when you’re outside, I’ve got people. Just say the word.”
“Thanks, man.” Knox nodded, but hoped it would never come to that. He knew some of those guys. A few had served time with them in here. They weren’t men that would ever be clean, and Knox was planning on doing just that. He was going to walk a straight line. Take care of his family. Never fuck up again.
Alone with his brother, the enormity of what was happening pressed down on him. Emotion thickened his throat. “I’m sorry, bro.”
“For what?”
“For landing you in here. And now leaving you.”
“Man, you didn’t put me in here. We did that together. That night . . . you weren’t leaving me at home. I wasn’t having it. I was there beside you every step of the way.”
He wasn’t going to argue with his brother that it had been his idea. His plan. He should have thought to the future and what could come of going after their cousin’s rapist. The outcome seemed so obvious now. He should have considered what going to jail would do to his aunt and uncle, and to Katie, who was already so fragile after the assault. He should have thought of Mason Leary’s family. They didn’t deserve the grief his actions put them through. Only he hadn’t thought. He’d been young and angry and stupid. And he would pay for it all his life,
A guard appeared at his open cell door. “Let’s go, Callaghan.”
He looked a final time at his brother. He didn’t move in for another hug. They’d said all they needed to say. No use dragging this out. For either one of them.
The pretty bastard grinned that smile of his. The one that was still disarming and full of life—that said he wasn’t beaten and that wasting his youth in this place hadn’t ruined him. “See you on the other side.”
He nodded, the lump in his throat preventing him from saying anything more. Turning, he walked out of his cell with his small bag of items, every one of which he would probably burn once he was free of this place.
He passed a blur of steel bars and faces as he left the cell block. Only one face crystallized from all of those staring at him.
Reid watched him from a table on the bottom floor surrounded by the usual crew. Reid’s words played over in his head: Don’t ever fucking come back here, you understand?
An ugly sensation twisted through him as it sank in that Reid would never have that. He would never get out. Sure, he had done bad things. He was a bad man. No one was really innocent in this place. Reid deserved to be in here like the rest of them, but Knox knew that without Reid, he and his brother would have been fucked from the very beginning. In every meaning of the word. As far as he was concerned, Reid was blood.
Reid nodded and sent him a wave, his lips lifting in a half smile of derision that told him he was at that very moment thinking about the chicken fried steak and ass he thought Knox would be getting.
Knox sent him a single nod, knowing this was the last time they would ever see each other.
The guard led him out of the cell bock, buzzing him through doors and down halls until he was in the admin wing and moving through the same processing room he had first arrived in eight years ago.
“Good luck,” an officer he had never seen before said blandly as she directed him to sign his name on the bottom of several release papers. Her expression was bored as she inquired, “You need transportation?”
He hesitated, thinking of his uncle. He hadn’t seen him in five years. They only talked on the phone these days. He and North had demanded that his uncle quit visiting them because he’d hated seeing the old man’s face . . . the lost look in his eyes as he sat across from him. He’d made the demand as much to spare himself as his uncle. No doubt the same reason North was doing it now.
“Bus station’s not far,” he commented. “I can hike it.”
She grunted, clearly not caring one way or another. He doubted he was the first guy to leave these walls without a ride waiting.
She scratched at her chin and slid him his release papers and parole information. He gave it a cursory glance before taking it. Reading material for the bus ride. There would be rules, of course. As guilty as he felt for getting out before North, he didn’t intend to screw up and lose his parole.
“Here’s your account balance.” She slid him an envelope. He peered inside. He had over nine hundred dollars accrued. Some of it was money Uncle Mac or Aunt Alice sent him—despite him asking them not to. The rest was from eight years of bartering.
He shoved the envelope into his bag and moved on. His heart started hammering faster in his chest as he was buzzed through another door.
He was finally escorted outside. He stepped into rippling waves of sunlight. August in Texas was no joke. Especially in the badlands. He felt his pores open wider, desperate for breath. For air that wasn’t so sweltering hot. His T-shirt stuck to his back like a sweaty hand he couldn’t shake off. It seemed even hotter than in the yard. The sunlight glinted off the cars in the parking lot, waves of heat undulating over the metal hoods and asphalt.
“C’mon. Walk you to the gate.”
Squinting against the bright day, he followed the guard down the path and through the sally port. He could already detect a difference in the guard’s manner. He didn’t look over his shoulder to eye him. He wasn’t worried that Knox was going to get the jump on him. Guess not too many inmates jumped a guard as they were being led out of prison.
He showed his papers to the guards on duty at the sally port. With a quick cursory glance at his face, they handed him his papers and nodded for him to go.
He turned and faced the final gate, waiting as it rolled open. He didn’t so much as blink. His eyes watched as the gate parted, the gap to his freedom ever widening, yawning open to reveal the world outside. The life he had been denied for eight years. Freedom. It was his now. The gate slid home and came to a jarring stop.
With a deep breath, he stepped over the line.
BRIAR ENTERED THE HSU along with Dr. Walker. She had more butterflies in her stomach than knots of apprehension—which, considering the last time she’d visited this place, was really messed up. It had been two weeks, but she should have been filled with all kinds of panic and trepidation. Bad memories could cripple a person, but she could only think about seeing Knox Callaghan again. Telling him thank-you. Staring into his intense blue eyes and seeing what she had seen in those cobalt depths when he was dragged away. That sizzling connection between them . . .
Shaking her head, she told herself to stop. There was no future in weaving a hero-fantasy around an inmate. That could only lead to nowhere.
Thank you. That’s all she wanted to say. What she had to say. Two simple words and nothing more. She couldn’t allow herself to feel more than gratitude toward him, and yet she did.
She viewed him differently now. What he had done—at risk to himself—changed him in her eyes. Everything had changed. He didn’t scare her anymore. The appreciation she had felt for his body, his face . . . it almost felt okay now. He wasn’t some evil person. He was a hero.
Josiah was already there. He rose from behind the desk to hug her. She hadn’t seen him since that night in the hospital, and it felt good to touch him, to reassure herself that he was all right. Murphy had pulled through the worst of it, too, and was offered early retirement. Full pension. A new corrections officer stood at the door. A woman in her thirties. Briar couldn’t help thinking she appeared both more alert and fit than Murphy ever had.
“Josiah.” Dr. Wal
ker reached out to shake his hand when they finished hugging. “So good to see you again.”
“Thanks for coming back.” Josiah grimaced. “No one would blame either one of you if you didn’t.”
“The same could be said of you,” Dr. Walker reminded him.
Josiah shrugged. “I’ve been here for ten years. Wouldn’t know what else to do with myself if I wasn’t clocking in.”
“An LVN as qualified as you could always find work elsewhere, but this place is lucky to have you.”
“Well, I heard the warden is interviewing new potential staff today . . . a PA that served in the army. Guess what happened in here really shook him up and made him take action.”
Dr. Walker brightened. “That’s excellent news.”
Something inside Briar sank. It was just a fleeting sensation, but she couldn’t deny it. She should have been glad her time here was coming to an end, but in that split second Knox Callaghan’s face flashed through her mind. No doubt he would visit the HSU as regularly as before, but she wouldn’t be here to see him . . . to put her hands on that big body that had filled her dreams and made her all jumpy inside. She wouldn’t hear his deep voice roll across her skin.
She sucked in a deep breath and pressed a hand to one of her heated cheeks. Dr. Walker caught the sound and sent her a concerned look. “Are you all right, Briar?”
He meant was she okay to be here. He had thought it too soon for her to come back to the prison—he’d even suggested she not come anymore at all—but she insisted on joining him his first day back.
She nodded. “No, I’m fine. Should we look over the patient files for the day?”
Josiah nodded and motioned to the desk. “I have them pulled up right here.”
Dr. Walker moved ahead of them. Josiah followed at a slower pace, looking her over carefully. “You sure you’re all right to be here? You know, no one would blame you for not coming back.”
She nodded again, maybe a little too vehemently. “Really, I wanted to come.” I had to come back.
Dr. Walker sank into the chair behind the desk and started clicking through files open on the laptop. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose in that way he did when he was concentrating.
She crossed her arms over her chest and slid Josiah a glance. Attempting for subtle, she asked, “So, any word on what happened to the inmate that helped us?” As if she didn’t know his name. “He didn’t get in any trouble, did he?”
Josiah turned to stare at her. “Oh, Callaghan? No one told you?”
Dr. Walker looked up from the computer. Apparently he wasn’t concentrating so hard he wasn’t paying attention. “I forget to mention that to you, Briar. He was paroled for his actions that day. Isn’t that nice? Something good came out of that horrible day, at least.”
Her stomach dropped. “Paroled?”
“Yes, well it appears he was eligible months ago, but denied parole. After a conversation with the warden, they agreed to move his next hearing up and approve his release.”
She stared at the doctor’s smiling face before turning to face Josiah. He nodded at her. “That’s right. They released him a few days ago.”
“Oh,” she murmured dumbly, hoping she didn’t appear as shocked as she felt. “That’s . . . good news.”
Dr. Walker’s gaze drifted back to the screen. “The least of what he deserves for saving our lives.”
“Of course,” she whispered, wondering at the emotions tripping through her. Displeasure that she would never see him again. Happiness that he was no longer locked up in this place. Hope . . . excitement that she might see him again on the outside. The last emotion, she swiftly crushed.
There was no way she would see him again. He probably wasn’t even local, and even if he was, it wasn’t as though she would go looking for him. Nor would he look for her. That would just be creepy. She probably wasn’t even an afterthought for him.
She glanced at Josiah and met the weight of his stare. His all too knowing stare. She blinked and forced a smile that hopefully conveyed blandness . . . that she was not reeling from the news that she would never see Knox Callaghan again.
That she was not disappointed to learn he was gone from her life for good.
TWELVE
SLAMMING HER FRIDGE SHUT, Briar walked back to her living room and plopped down on the couch to glare at the television. It was a Friday night. She didn’t have to get up for work tomorrow. She didn’t have to do anything, really.
She had already refused Shelley’s attempts to drag her out to a bar. The kids were staying at their father’s for the weekend and Shelley wanted to cut loose. Briar, not so much. She hadn’t felt like doing much of anything since her gig at the prison ended over a month ago. They brought in an additional part-time nurse to help Josiah and a full-time PA. Dr. Walker—or she, for that matter—were no longer needed.
Truthfully, she was relieved not to go back there. It reminded her too much of Knox Callaghan. Too often she found herself thinking about him. She wondered where he was. What was he doing? Was he abiding by the law and living a decent life? Was he back in the arms of some girlfriend? Or lots of girlfriends? She punched her elbow several times into the couch cushion to her left, trying to get it just right to rest her arm.
Eight years in prison. He had a lot of time to make up for. Lots of hot wild sex. Her skin flushed just thinking about. Hell, maybe he had a wife. She didn’t even know.
A text beeped on her phone. She plucked up the phone from her coffee table and glanced down at the message from her sister. Caleb got that promotion! Thinking of celebrating with a bbq.
She typed back: Congrats! Sounds great. I’ll be there. ☺
Setting the phone back down, she stared blindly at the TV until she couldn’t ignore the growling in her stomach. The cheese quesadilla she made for dinner felt a long time ago. She’d gone to the store yesterday and had a fairly well-stocked fridge and freezer, but somehow she had forgotten to buy ice cream, and that was the only thing she was craving.
It was a guilty vice for certain. One she shouldn’t let rule her, but watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory without a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia seemed somehow criminal. The two went together like pot roast and Sunday.
Slipping into a pair of flip-flops by her door, she grabbed her keys and purse. She hesitated and sent a quick look down her body.
She was braless, but going back into her bedroom to don a bra seemed like a lot of work. It was much easier to grab the soft cardigan hanging on a hook by the door and put that on over her T-shirt.
Outside, the evening was much cooler than when she entered her apartment at five o’clock, but they’d had a rare rain shower so it was humid enough that the air sat on her skin like vapor from a sauna. It might be fall in the rest of the world, but this corner of Texas hadn’t gotten the memo. Things wouldn’t really start to cool off until Thanksgiving.
She hopped in her car and drove the three minutes to the corner store. She parked in front, at the far end, distancing herself from the trio of teenage boys hanging out, smoking cigarettes. One was holding a burrito and sucking down a big gulp. He eyed her over the cup that was bigger than his head.
She eyed them without turning her head to look. A trick she’d learned from working in the HSU, she realized. Tugging the cardigan closed in front of her, she hugged herself as she walked, regretting now that she had not taken the time to put on her bra. Covered up in her cardigan, she knew no one could tell, but she felt vulnerable and exposed anyway.
“Hey,” one guy called out in greeting, flicking the ash from his cigarette. He went on to say something else to her, but she ignored him and pushed through the chiming door.
The cashier sent her a cursory glance before turning his attention back to his phone. She walked down the candy aisle and paused, considering the assortment of chocolate bars. Te
mpting, but ice cream was indulgence enough for one night.
She kept going until she made it to the freezer chest of ice cream. Opening the lid, she picked out the Cherry Garcia and turned back down the aisle.
A man stood right there in the candy aisle where she had been contemplating Snickers or Twix only a few moments before. She froze, her lungs seizing tight and shoving out all air.
She couldn’t see his face yet, but there was something about him. The set of his shoulders. The way his dark T-shirt rested against his shoulder blades. The narrowness of his waist. She knew that back. Recognized the hint of sinew shifting beneath soft-looking cotton. Remembered the torso beneath that she had touched on more than one occasion. So many times actually that she dreamed of it. Of him. Even without the scratchy white cotton uniform, she knew that body. She knew she was staring at Knox Callaghan.
She blinked and pressed her fingertips to her eyes, squeezing them shut. She was losing her mind. Why would he be here? It had been two months. Certainly he had left the area. She dropped her hand and opened her eyes again.
He turned in that moment, his fingers looped loosely above a six-pack of beer. In his other hand he held a bag of M&Ms.
His eyes collided with hers. And that’s what it felt like. A bone-jarring collision.
Her lungs hurt but she couldn’t breathe as they stared at each other. There was no ease to the pressure in her chest. It was like someone had pushed a pause button. Neither moved. Or spoke. He was even hotter than she remembered. Memory had somehow dulled the deep blue of his eyes, the sharp lines of his face, the well-sculpted lips. Just like in prison, a few days’ worth of stubble lined his jaw, adding to his edgy good looks.
She couldn’t blink. He looked her up and down, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The stretch of silence got to be too much. The tension . . . too much. Someone had to move. Or speak.
“Hey,” she finally blurted.
“Hey,” he returned in that deep voice that fell like rain on sun-parched ground.