Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Look around you, Reese. What did this accomplish? How did being out of control serve you? What did it do for you? Did it make you feel better? How do you feel right now?”
“Like shit.”
“You gave them power over you. You gave your disease power over you. You’re letting your disease have its way with you.”
Reese took a deep breath. “I feel as if everything in my life is spinning out of control.”
“All of us have that happen to us. We’ve talked about it, and how it will continue to happen. We go through the steps, Reese. We can’t control others. That’s an illusion. We can only control ourselves. You call on your higher power for help.”
Reese nodded. He turned his hands over and curled them into fists. “They took my life away once, Ink. I was scared.”
“You’re so new to the program, Reese, you haven’t gotten rid of the way you’ve handled things in the past. You can’t let that be an excuse to do this kind of thing.” Ink stood up slowly and gestured to take in the room.
Reese rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “I know. I do know. I knew when I was hurling things around it was wrong. I called you, Ink, and I didn’t take a drink, but I shouldn’t have brought the bottle into the house in the first place. It was in my truck on the front seat under my jacket. I found it when I got home from work. The phone rang, and it was my parole officer with the news that I was to help this crew rob a series of small convenience stores all in one night. They wanted to hit them hard and get out. That was the plan. It’s not like someone looking like me, even wearing a mask, isn’t memorable. It’s a setup.”
“What were you doing with the gun?” Ink asked. “You’re on parole. You get caught with that, you go directly to prison.”
“It was on the seat with the bottle, under my jacket, fully loaded.”
Master shoved his own weapon in his harness and stalked across the room, wanting to smack Reese. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you pick that gun up and get your fingerprints all over it? For all you know it was used to murder someone. If you know you’re being set up, the last thing you want to do is have a gun someone put in your truck. You don’t have the damn thing on your lap and your fist around it. I think you took too many knocks to the head when you were fighting in that ring.”
Reese nodded. “I did think about that, after Leonard called me. He’s the parole officer, Leonard Stoddard. It was already too late. I had my fingerprints on the gun and the bottle of Jack in the house. Stoddard told me I had to help out his crew or I was going back to prison. He’d see to that personally.”
“Has Stoddard always been your parole officer?” Master asked.
Reese nodded again. “Yeah. He seemed all right. He did his job. Checked to make sure I went to work, and I’d informed the boss that I was on parole. He dropped by the cabin several times to make certain there were no drugs here and no alcohol. He walked around our house like he owned it, but other than that, he left me alone. I thought he was a pretty decent guy.”
“Until now.”
“Yeah. I didn’t see this coming.”
“You certain it was him?” Ink asked. “His voice? Just because he identified himself as your parole officer, doesn’t mean he was.”
Reese went quiet, thinking it over. He was calm now, his breathing back to normal. Ink was that way, calm in every situation, bringing down the tension. He wasn’t a man given to violent outbursts until pushed beyond a breaking point, and then no one wanted to be around a nuclear bomb exploding. That was Ink. Complete and utter calm until the ultimate explosion.
Master took that moment to look at his woman, to ensure she was doing fine. Tyra was back, gabbing away. Ambrielle looked like the little fairy princess she was. Regal. Elegant. Sitting there in that shabby-chic chair, her hair a mass of dark, glossy waves, the leggings showing the luscious curves of her hips, but the jacket he’d given her hiding her full breasts and narrow rib cage. There were bruises on her face, smudges under her eyes, but to Master, that underscored the beauty he saw in her.
She looked straight at him and smiled. Her entire face lit up. Her eyes turned that strange shade of inky violet. Her long lashes fluttered, and she looked so drowsy, as if she might fall asleep right in that chair with Tyra talking her ear off. He knew she’d be mortified if that happened. He gave her a small salute and mouthed, You all right?