Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
He gestured toward a box in the corner of the office.
Troup would never, not ever, leave that behind if he had the choice.
They were all his things. All his memories.
Photos of me. Photos of Hiro.
“What prison?” I asked quietly.
His eyes came to mine. “It’s actually better for you, anyway. Way closer to your family, and you won’t be out here all alone. Bear Bottom, Texas. I know the warden there, too. Good man. Odd. Standoffish, but fair. He won’t hurt your man.”
That was always a relief.
Mostly, the prison system was a cutthroat world. You had to be tough to survive it.
I’d really lucked out when Troup had been sent to this particular penitentiary.
Warden Stanley was a good man, and although he’d been a tough nut to crack at first, I’d come to really adore him.
The only problem was, I’d have to crack another warden… and this one may not be as easy.
Like before when it came to getting an in with Warden Stanley, I went to my friends.
I wasn’t above guilting them.
I also wasn’t above blackmailing the hell out of them if it got me what I wanted.
The first stop was a friend’s place.
I’d left all my stuff back in Montana, only packing a small bag for both Hiro and me before hauling ass toward the airport.
I didn’t even stop at my parents to allow them to have Hiro once I got off the plane and into a rental car.
Nope, I just drove.
I pulled over in front of Rafe and Janie’s place, staring at the large white house with a look of trepidation.
I knew Rafe and Janie, both in different situations.
I’d met Rafe through the FBI and certain aspects of my job. Janie, I’d met much, much sooner than that. We’d actually grown up together. Though she’d always been a couple of years older, and more mature, than me.
But I considered her a friend.
Considered them both good allies to have.
Reaching for my son in the back seat of the rental car, I unbuckled his sleeping body and snuggled him close to my chest.
Getting out carefully so I didn’t wake him, I walked to the front door of their house and knocked.
It took them a long time to answer.
The dog barking was loud, letting me know that whether they heard my knock or not, likely they heard that there was a reason for all the commotion.
It was a long time later when the door swung open and an older version of the man I used to know opened the door.
Rafe.
He’d added quite a bit of salt and pepper color to his once black hair.
He blinked, then recognition hit.
“Beckham,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“My husband was transferred to a prison in Bear Bottom,” I said. “I need help.”
CHAPTER 20
Imagine if a dick wagged like a dog’s tail when it was happy to see you.
-Text from Trouper to Beckham
TROUPER
I was pissed as hell and I knew that it showed on my face.
“What the fuck are we doing here?” I barked.
Why was I pissed?
Because I’d been transferred from Montana to Bear Bottom, Texas all without informing my wife that it was happening.
It also meant that I’d lost the ability to see her.
“Just chill, okay?” I was shoved into a room with six other men.
When we were done in that room thirty-five minutes later, I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.
“You think he’s for real?” I heard asked behind me.
The pretty boy—Sin.
I looked at him with a shrug. “The sincerity was there in his eyes. He meant every word.”
“I guess I’ll believe it when I see it,” Sin grumbled.
Lynn, the man that was offering us a way out, hadn’t beaten around the bush.
If I took his offer—which I did before we left the room—I would be owned by him. But… I would be out.
And that was an out I was willing to take. Strings or no strings.
Sin’s ‘believing’ came three weeks later right along with my believing.
CHAPTER 21
Well tomorrow fucking sucked.
-Text from Trouper to Beckham
BECKHAM
Three weeks later
“Janie,” I said as I answered the phone. “Did you find anything?”
“I did,” she confirmed. “But I wasn’t the one to do the finding. I have an address for you. Coordinates really. Go to them and pick your husband up.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your husband is a free man as of three p.m.,” she said. “I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I just know that he’s getting out. Though, I think he’s under the assumption that you’re not coming.”
I narrowed my eyes but didn’t bother to ask questions.
It would be pointless.
She probably didn’t know.
“Okay,” I breathed. “Thank you so much, Janie.”
Then I hung up and started to freak out.
Three in the afternoon was just two hours away. I immediately went to my phone to see how long it would take to get there, then looked at my son who was asleep in his bassinet.