Текст книги "A Pound of Flesh"

Автор книги: Sophie Jackson

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

10

Those who didn’t know Eva Lane personally considered her aloof and arrogant. But no one, not even those who disliked her, could deny her strength.

When seven thugs, high on whatever they’d taken that fateful night, had ruthlessly murdered her husband, Senator Daniel Lane, she’d remained stoic and calm in public. She received condolences from voters, strangers, and many of her husband’s colleagues with a smile and a nod of thanks. Everyone had marveled at her composure.

But deep down, she’d been dying. Her heart had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole that couldn’t be filled with words of sympathy or touches from loved ones.

Daniel had been everything to her and when she was told he’d died, been beaten so violently that his brain had bled, causing a massive stroke, she’d considered taking her own life to be with him. An easy, selfish, and desperate way out. How could she possibly go on living when the only man she’d ever loved was gone?

For weeks after his death, Eva had taken to the bed they’d shared and cried. She’d screamed, shouted, thrown things, hit things, hit herself, but the pain remained. The hole was wide and cavernous, and nothing could staunch the grief every time her eyes opened and she realized her Danny was still dead.

Nothing except her daughter.

Her little Katherine, who’d witnessed the murder of her precious father, who was silent, pale, and desperate for her mother to give her words that would pull her from the grief consuming her so entirely. Eva knew she’d been selfish in her own sorrow, that her little girl needed her, and Eva needed Katherine, too. Yet Eva could barely look at her without seeing her husband. Every movement, mannerism, and look her daughter gave was so much like her husband that, for a long time, Eva could spend only small amounts of time in her company.

It broke Eva’s shattered heart further and contributed to Katherine’s belief that her mommy blamed her for the death of her hero-worshipped father. She should have stopped those bad men, she’d whimpered. If that stranger hadn’t been there, she might have been able to. The anguished “what-if’s” of a nine-year-old girl who wanted nothing more than to see her father walk through the door again.

During therapy, Eva slowly began to realize what she was doing to her child. She was devastated when she heard Katherine’s thoughts about Eva’s blame. She also understood how lucky she was that she still had her daughter at all—how close she’d been to losing her, too.

And she would be forever grateful for whatever divine intervention occurred for keeping her baby safe. She had a beautiful, living, breathing connection to her cherished husband—and she would always treasure and protect her daughter, for the rest of her life.

Unfortunately, as well as looking just like her father, Katherine had inherited his determination. She was stubborn to a fault and, once decided on something, she was never swayed. Eva knew that her attempts at keeping her daughter safe were bordering on smothering, but dammit, didn’t Katherine see the risk she was taking?

It pained Eva to see her daughter dismiss her worries so easily. She’d tried relentlessly to steer her daughter away from the path she had chosen, to no avail. She sighed heavily now.

“Mom, you look like you’re suffering from gas. What’s up?”

Eva’s eyes shot daggers across her Upper East Side apartment to where Katherine was fixing her hair, looking beautiful in her new birthday dress. “There’s no need to be crude. I was just thinking.” Eva cradled her wineglass. “How’s Ben?”

Katherine shrugged. “He’s good. Busy. He’s coming tonight with Abby.”

Eva sighed wistfully. “It’s wonderful that he’s settled down, married, and in a respectable job.”

Katherine took a deep breath, her arms falling to her sides. “I know you’re desperate for grandkids, Mom, but can we hold off just a little longer before I settle down?” She picked up her glass and gulped her wine. “And my job is respectable. I’m a teacher. A good one.”

Ignoring the retort about the job, Eva laughed. “Oh, darling, as much as I would love grandchildren, I just want you to be happy, and with someone who’ll look after you and love you. There’s no rush, you’re young.” She paused. “But there’s no one you’re interested in?”

Katherine avoided her mother’s gaze as she picked up her purse. “No. I’m happy as I am. In all aspects of my life.”

Eva stared at her daughter, wishing she could explain her fears better. She sighed. “I hope so.”

* * *

The Spanish restaurant in TriBeCa in which Kat had chosen to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday was bustling. She, along with her friends and family, sat around a large circular table drinking wine and nibbling at the delicious breads laid out in its center. Her mother sat to her left, quiet but attentive, while Ben, Abby, Harrison, Beth, and Adam, God love them, with jokes and liberal pours of wine, tried to clear the tense atmosphere between mother and daughter.

“Carter got parole?” Ben exclaimed. “That’s great, Kat!” He lifted his champagne glass.

Kat laughed and did the same, ignoring the look of disdain that flashed across her mother’s face.

“So, when do your sessions start?” Beth asked.

“Sessions?” her mother interjected, her dark eyes flashing. “What sessions?”

“Kat meets with this … Carter three times a week,” Beth answered, her stare on her entree. “No security or anything.”

Eva blanched. “What?”

Great, Beth.

Kat breathed deeply, counting silently in an effort to keep her temper. “It’s part of Carter’s parole, Mom,” she answered, frowning over at Beth. “Very few tutors get the opportunity to do it. It’s important. You should be proud.”

Her mother gawked, her eyes damned near falling out of her head. “I would be prouder if you taught children in a middle-class elementary school. I mean, really, Katherine.” She put her glass down. “What makes these people, these prison officials, think that putting my daughter in danger will change these monsters one iota?”

“I’m not in any danger,” Kat assured her again.

Her mother blinked. “Your father thought the same. He was all for campaigning and helping the less fortunate, and look at the thanks he got.”

Kat’s heart thudded in her chest. “Carter’s not like them. He’s trying to better himself.

“Don’t dismiss my concerns, Katherine.”

“She’s allowed to worry, Kat. We all are,” Beth added. Adam placed a hand on her shoulder. Kat opened her mouth to ask what the hell her friend was playing at.

“Of course I am,” Eva said instead. “You’re my daughter.”

Her mother’s words strengthened Kat’s fire of determination. “Yeah,” she snapped. “And it’s your daughter’s birthday dinner, so can you just let it go tonight?” Kat closed her eyes, beating down her anger. “I’ve contacted the library on Fifth and Forty-second to reserve the reading room. He’s released on Tuesday. Our first session is a week from then.”

“Well, that’s great news,” Harrison said before Eva could say any more. He smiled sympathetically across the table at Kat. She returned his gaze before looking at Beth, who was murmuring quietly to Adam.

What the hell was going on? Sure, Beth had always spoken up about Kat’s mother, all but excusing her overbearing protectiveness, but this was something else.

Adam cleared his throat. “Austin’s here,” he said as his brother came toward the table with—much to Kat’s embarrassment—a gorgeously wrapped present.

“Hi, guys.” Austin shook Adam’s hand and lowered his voice. “I just got off the phone with Casari. We got ’em.”

Adam’s features sharpened. “Austin, man, I told you; be careful that—”

“Later,” Austin bit out. He hugged Beth and turned to Kat. “Happy birthday,” he said, laying the gift in front of her. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Austin, you really didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense. It was just something that made me think of you when I saw it in San Francisco. Open it, please.”

“I will. Austin, this is my mom, Eva Lane, and her partner, Harrison Day. Mom, this is Austin Ford.”

Her mom’s eyes widened when Austin kissed her hand. “A pleasure,” he uttered before he shook Harrison’s hand and took a seat at Kat’s side.

“Quite. A young man with manners,” her mom murmured with a pointed look at Kat. “How very rare these days.”

Ben snorted from across the table, making Kat smile. With all eyes on her, she started ripping at the deep purple paper to find a large transparent box, which contained a beautiful snow globe. Instead of snowflakes falling around the miniature Golden Gate Bridge, millions of small stars and bits of crystal spun and glittered as they caught the light.

“Austin, that’s gorgeous.” Beth gasped.

“It is,” Kat agreed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed her cheek again, allowing his lips to linger a little longer than before.

Austin was once again a pleasure to be around, and Kat decided that she liked it when his finger would graze her arm or his hand would lightly catch the skin of her back when he rested it on the back of her chair. She liked when their eyes met and she liked the sound of his laugh and the way he said her name.

But there was still … something off. She was attracted to the guy. But a few times she’d shifted uneasily in her seat because that undefinable discomfort settled deep within her. Kat tried to ignore it, but it never disappeared.

* * *

Standing on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant after dinner, Ben hugged Kat warmly. “Happy birthday. Jesus, your mom was in rare form tonight. She needs to lower the dose.”

Kat chuckled into his shoulder. “She’s a nightmare. She and Beth both.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed. “What was that about?”

Kat shrugged. “Who knows? I can’t even …”

“I think your mom’s a little taken with your friend.” Ben glanced at Austin, who chatted amiably with Eva. Ben’s face turned serious. “You need any info on this guy, give me a call, okay? Dirty little secrets are my speciality. Plus it gives me an excuse to play on Google.” He smirked when she pushed him away lightheartedly.

Kat turned to Abby. “Please take your husband home and smother him with a pillow.”

Abby laughed, taking Ben’s hand.

“Come over for dinner soon,” Kat told them. “I’ll make my special meatballs.”

The hug Kat shared with her mother was awkward. “Happy birthday, Katherine. Call me. Tomorrow. As soon as you’re home from working with those—Just call me.”

Kat held her eye roll. “I will. I’ll see you soon.”

Kat hugged and kissed Adam and Beth. “Everything okay?” she asked them both.

“Yeah,” Beth replied with a small smile. Adam nodded. “Just tired.” Beth looked over at Austin. “Maybe Austin can take you home, huh?” She winked conspiratorially, gestured unsubtly toward Austin mere feet away, and muttered indelicately about “getting in there.”

Austin laughed as Kat blushed and shook his head. The two of them stood on the sidewalk, neither knowing what to do next.

“Can I give you a lift?” he asked, pointing toward his car.

“Sure,” she replied.

The Range Rover was spacious and smelled of leather and cologne.

“You have good taste in music,” Kat noted as the CD changed from one song to another while they moved through the city traffic.

“Thanks,” Austin replied. “I don’t get to indulge it much, other than when I’m in the car.” He looked at her for a moment.

“Did you enjoy your trip to San Francisco?”

Austin cocked an eyebrow. “It was work. No matter where you are in the world, if you have to work, it’s never good.”

“I guess. Though I bet it wouldn’t be too bad if it was the Maldives or the Caribbean,” she mused.

Austin chuckled. “It was good,” he continued. “I finalized a big deal. I also thought of you. A lot.”

Kat stared at her hands, wordless. They’d exchanged many texts since their first meeting. His were never pushy, always considerate. Hearing him say the words, though, was a little different.

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “Too fast?”

She replied with a slow shake of her head.

“You look wonderful tonight, Kat.” His dark eyes flitted down to her legs. “That color is great on you.”

She ran her hands down her red wraparound dress, the compliment stirring indistinct emotions.

They spent the rest of the car journey this way, comfortably happy to share the silence once the music stopped. Austin put the car into park and turned off the engine when they reached Kat’s building. She slowly unclipped her belt and reached for her purse and birthday gift bags from the footwell.

“Thank you,” she said as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Her stomach felt heavy. She cleared her throat to try and push the odd sensation away.

“No problem,” Austin replied. “I had a good time.”

“Me too.” She met his gaze and smiled gently.

Austin smiled back. “I know we’ve only met a couple of times, but I’ve enjoyed every minute.” As always, his gaze was steady with a hint of CEO intimidation. “Would it be okay for us to have dinner sometime?”

She hesitated only briefly. “That … sounds good.” Austin grinned, making his face softer.

Kat’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes were determined and dark. The only sound in the car other than her heart thumping was the creaking of the leather seat as he slowly leaned closer. She didn’t move. She wasn’t sure that she could. The feeling of wanting to bolt but also wanting to stay exactly where she was sent a shiver up her back.

Austin stopped, his face only two inches away. “Kat,” he murmured before he leaned closer and his lips found hers.

Kat stayed still as their mouths melded. It felt … nice.

After a moment of stillness, Austin cupped her left cheek and opened his mouth. Kat reciprocated by opening hers. She began to lose herself in the sensation of kissing Austin and surprised herself when she moaned softly as their tongues touched. Her hand found the back of his head, and she leaned closer. The feeling in her stomach twisted, but she fought to ignore it. She hadn’t kissed anyone in so long.

Why should she deny herself this? Who was she denying herself for?

Austin hummed when Kat’s tongue rubbed his, and he sucked its tip before she withdrew it from his mouth.

His hand dropped slowly from her cheek and slid down her bare arm as they moved together, synchronized, their heads moving slowly from one side to the other. His hand met her knee and he moaned deep in the back of his throat. His palm rubbed gently across her skin before moving slowly up the outside of her thigh. Kat tensed but moaned again when his fingertips danced under the hem of her skirt. He pulled his lips away for one split second and leaned his forehead against hers.

“Kat, we either need to stop right now or … Jesus.”

Kat leaned back, seeing the lust and truth of his words on his face. She blinked, trying to clear her head. This wasn’t her. Although Austin was handsome and undeniably charming, she wasn’t about to lose herself in a night of crazy fucking.

“I think we should slow down,” she said, finally moving back in her seat.

Austin exhaled and rubbed his hands down his face, apologizing into his palms.

“Don’t be sorry,” Kat said. “I’m not. It’s just … maybe we should take things slowly?”

He smiled and lifted her hand to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on her knuckle. “Slowly works for me.”

“Good.” Kat pulled the handle on the car door. “Thanks for the lift. Good night, Austin.”

“Good night, Kat.”

She was still in a haze as she made her way across the lobby of her apartment building and, at first, didn’t hear Fred on the welcome desk calling her name.

“Miss Lane!” Fred waved to catch her attention before she reached the elevators. “Miss Lane!”

“Yes, Fred?” she asked, approaching him.

“Good evening, Miss Lane.” He grinned, revealing two adorable dimples that took the attention away from the large gap between his front teeth. “I have a package for you. It was delivered this afternoon.”

From under the desk, he pulled out a square parcel wrapped neatly in brown paper. “I didn’t catch the man’s name, but he said it was important to get this to you.”

Kat eyed the package curiously. “Thank you, Fred.”

Once she entered her apartment, she dropped everything on the sofa, changed into sweatpants, and grabbed a glass of apple juice before parking herself on the other end of the couch cross-legged. Just as she reached for the mysterious brown package, her cell phone pinged with a text. Austin.

I really enjoyed tonight.

Kat sat back with a sigh, letting the tips of her fingers whisper over her mouth.

I did, too. Thank you for the gift. It was beautiful.

A beautiful gift for a beautiful woman.

Kat still hadn’t thought of a reply when he texted again.

I look forward to our dinner. Happy birthday, Kat. Sweet dreams x

Good night.

She set the phone by her side. The odd sensation that had remained all night in her abdomen immediately bloomed and curled tightly. She placed her hand against it, trying to push it away.

How ridiculous.

Austin was great. He was a nice, safe guy, and there was no way she was going to let a silly inexplicable feeling stop her from having something that could be incredible. It had been too long since her last relationship—a three-month fling with a compulsive liar and cheater—and she deserved some happiness. Resolute, she reached for her apple juice and heard a light thud come from between her feet. She looked down to see the brown paper square Fred had given her.

“What are you?” She picked up the mysterious package and began tearing the paper open.

A gasp left her when she realized what it was. She stared through tear-filled eyes at the 1937 first edition of Walter the Lazy Mouse in her hands. “How?” She ran her fingers reverently over the front cover. “Oh God.”

She opened it up and saw a brief message neatly written in black on the inside of the front cover:

Peaches,

Here’s to achieving anything you put your mind to, no matter what the obstacles.

Happy birthday.

—Carter

11

Carter had barely slept. He was pumped and excited, much like a small child on Christmas morning.

At seven on the morning of his release, he was busy packing up his books and other belongings into a small box with great enthusiasm. The sheet of paper stating he had officially been granted parole was now his most treasured possession, and, at regular intervals, he would open it up and reread it, just to make sure that shit hadn’t changed in any way.

It hadn’t.

Carter’s civilian clothes were what he’d worn when he entered the facility. He was smug as shit when he saw that his gray Ramones T-shirt was now tight across his arms and chest, thanks to Ross’s vigorous workouts. He smiled and shook his head, pulling at the sleeves in an effort to give his biceps a little more room.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered before he pulled on his dark-wash jeans and his black boots. Denim and cheap cotton had never felt so fucking good. Next were his rings. He placed the thick silver band on the thumb of his right hand, a silver-and-black Celtic cross on his middle finger, and a sweet Harley-Davidson insignia on his left index finger.

“You nearly ready?”

Carter turned with a smile to see Jack leaning against the open door of his cell.

“Pretty much,” Carter replied, fastening his brown leather belt around the waist of his jeans. “When can I go?”

Jack glanced at his watch. “Doors open in ten. We’re waiting on Ward.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Carter muttered. He looked around his cell to see if he’d left anything behind, then picked up his box and pulled it close.

“So.” Jack pushed his hands into his pockets. “I delivered your little gift.”

Carter avoided his counselor’s gaze. “Great,” he replied casually. “There was enough cash?”

“More than enough, and I wrote exactly what you asked me to.”

Carter’s stomach somersaulted, thinking about Peaches receiving the book. He wondered if she liked it. He wondered if she thought it too much or too cheesy.

“I have to ask …” Jack continued, inspecting the toe of his right shoe.

“What?” Carter snapped.

Jack smiled knowingly before looking up. “I just wanted to know how the hell you managed to find a place that sold the book on such short notice,” he finished with an innocent shrug.

Carter’s shoulders collapsed in relief. “Peach—she, Kat, Miss Lane, had … um, well, shit, she mentioned it during one of our sessions, so I, I looked it up on the Internet in the library and put a hold on it. I was going to get it once I was out, but last week, when she mentioned it was her birthday …” He glanced up, shifting from one foot to the other, altogether uncomfortable as all fuck. “It’s not a big deal, man. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Hey,” Jack said behind a small chuckle. “I didn’t say a word. I thought it was a great gift: very thoughtful.”

Carter watched him cautiously. “Really?”

“Really,” Jack replied with a sharp nod. “I bet she loved it.”

Carter’s stomach twisted again. He hoped so. It was the least he could do for her; after all she’d done and had put up with from him.

“Inmate 081056,” Ward called, sauntering into the doorway of Carter’s cell. “I’m here to escort you off the premises.” He pulled at the cuffs of the white shirt he was wearing under a dark navy blazer.

“Goodie,” Carter murmured with a sardonic glare. Carter followed Ward, a guard, and Jack toward the back entrance of the facility, where he signed one more release form and received yet another copy of his parole conditions.

“How many of these does one person need?” he asked incredulously, pushing the piece of paper into the depths of his box.

“Well,” Ward retorted while he clicked the top of his pen, “we all know how forgetful you can be when it comes to rules, Carter.”

Carter picked up his box. “It was a rhetorical question, dickwad.”

Ward’s eyes shrunk in irritation. “What did—”

Jack stepped between the two men. “Come on now, Wes. Time to go.” He pushed on Carter’s shoulder, guiding him toward the exit.

Carter kept his stare on Ward before he allowed Jack to walk him out the door. The sun was hot for mid-September. Carter closed his eyes and lifted his face, breathing it in.

“That good?” Jack chuckled at his side.

“Yeah,” Carter answered. He opened his eyes slowly and began rummaging in his box. It took him a few minutes of cursing and muttering before he found his Wayfarers and placed them onto his face. “Now I’m fucking ready,” he said with a wide smile.

Jack laughed and rubbed his chin. He looked across the very far side of the lot to see a familiar large, black-haired figure leaning arrogantly against the front passenger door of a very hot muscle vehicle, smoking a cigarette.

“Is that Max?”

“Don’t start,” Carter warned with raised eyebrows. “He’s here to pick me up because I sure as shit ain’t walking home.”

Jack scoffed. “Well, it’s a definite conflict of interest to have him come and pick you up when—”

“Look!” Carter stopped Jack’s lecture dead in its tracks. “This is my release day. I’m finally free of this place and I’m currently in a good mood. Please don’t piss on my parade, J. I’ve had my fill.” Carter’s voice was firm but pleading.

“Fine,” Jack surrendered. “Fine.”

“Okay.” Carter sighed. “So, I’ll see you next Friday?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “Your place at six. Don’t forget.”

Carter shook his head. “Like that’s even possible with the six pieces of paper I have to remind me.”

Jack raised his hand and patted Carter on his shoulder. “Take care.”

“Sure,” Carter replied. “I’ll see ya.” He began walking toward Max, who was grinning like an idiot; his mirrored aviators glinted in the sunlight.

“What’s up?” he drawled around the plume of smoke that slipped from his mouth.

Carter smiled, despite the disheveled appearance of his friend. His AC/DC T-shirt was creased and his jeans looked as though they’d not seen a washing machine in a hella long time. “Not much; just released from prison, ya know.”

“Same old, same old, huh?”

“You know it.” Carter placed his box on the hood of the car and shook Max’s hand before they hugged with a slap of the back. “It’s good to see your ugly face,” he said, taking the smoke Max was offering. He regarded his friend as he took a much-needed drag. His hair was longer and he looked like he’d not shaved in a while. “How ya doin’?”

Max’s face pinched. “I’m okay.”

Carter sighed. “You sure?”

“Yeah, dude.” The smile Max offered was small. “Was that Parker?”

Carter nodded and leaned against the car.

“Carter!”

The two men looked up to see a flustered-looking redhead waving hesitantly and weaving through the parking lot toward them.

“Who the fuck is that?” Max pulled his shades down until they were resting at the tip of his nose. Carter immediately noticed the size of Max’s pupils and the dark lines under his eyes that screamed lack of sleep. He was fucking high. Jesus. It wasn’t even 8 a.m.

“No one,” Carter answered with an exasperated shake of his head. “Hold this a minute.”

He handed Max the cigarette and began jogging between the cars over to his Peaches. He didn’t need Max ogling her while they spoke. If he was high, the asshole might say anything.

“Hey,” he breathed, coming to a standstill in front of her.

“Hey,” she replied. “I’m sorry.” She glanced behind him. “I—I know you probably want to get going but, well, I—”

“It’s no problem,” Carter interrupted. “That’s just my buddy Max. He’s taking me home.” He pulled his shades off and tucked them in the neck of his T-shirt. “What’s up?”

Her gaze wandered over him in a way that made his heart race. “I got your present, the book, and I … I just wanted to say thank you. It was—” She bit her lip hard.

“Did you like it?” Carter asked nervously, slipping the tips of his fingers into the pockets of his jeans.

Her eyes widened. “Like it? I loved it. It was perfect and extremely thoughtful. Thank you.”

Carter rocked back on his heels. “Well, you know.” He scratched his head. “You said you’d lost yours and, well, now you have one.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’ve read it twice already. It’s wonderful.”

Carter smiled wider. She seemed so happy. “Good. You’re welcome, Peaches.”

“I also wanted to give you this.” She reached into the pocket of her gray pants and pulled out a small card covered in numbers. “Our first session is scheduled for Tuesday at four at the library on Forty-second. Here’s my cell number and my … my home number in case, well, in case you can’t make it or you’re gonna be late or whatever.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I just thought you should have some way of being able to contact me.”

She handed Carter the card. Was she blushing?

“That’s a damn good idea. Thanks.” He pushed the card into the back pocket of his jeans.

“So,” she continued. “I’ll see you then?”

“Sure,” he answered. Her flustering was unsettling but cute as hell.

“Good,” she replied, taking a step back. “I’ll let you get going. Take care.”

He saluted with two lazy fingers at his temple. “You too.” She smiled bashfully, turned, and walked back toward the facility.

Once she was through the door and out of sight, he blew out an uncomfortable breath. “Fuck.”

Peaches was normally so in control. He relied on her discipline to keep him calm. Their sessions would sure as shit not work if they continued to behave this way with each other. Maybe the whole tutoring thing was going to be an utter bust. He put his shades back on and headed back to the car.

Max was chuckling. “Something you wanna share?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“No,” Carter snapped back at the double entendre. Realizing how protective he sounded, he laughed, attempting to hide his annoyance. “She’s just a lit tutor, that’s all.”

“Tutor, huh?” Max asked, glancing back at the door she’d disappeared through. “Well, fuck, she could tutor me anytime with that ass. That’s some hot junk in the trunk.”

Carter held his tongue and smiled tightly while keeping his eyes on the handle of the car door. “Really, I hadn’t noticed.”

Max snorted and pulled his car keys from his pocket. “That settles it, brother. We need to get your ass laid.”

This, Carter had to laugh at and agree with wholeheartedly. He needed to relax and clear his mind of all this bullshit. He was a free man and he was ready to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

Carter had never been a homebody.

From the age of nine he’d been shifted from one wretched place to another. If it wasn’t from one boarding school to another equally pretentious one, he would, usually after coming to blows with his father, crash on friends’ sofas or floors. He always got itchy feet from staying in one place for too long.

That’s just the way his life was: unsettled.

So he was surprised when he was hit with an overwhelming sense of relief as he pushed the key into the lock of his loft apartment on the corner of Greenwich and Jay in the TriBeCa neighborhood of Manhattan. He pushed the door open and took a moment to allow the smells of the place to wash over him.

Max nudged his back. “You planning on going in there?”

“Yeah.” Carter took a step into the apartment and closed the door behind Max, who had his box.

Carter threw his keys onto a small table and surveyed his home. High ceilings, wooden floors, and cream and brown furniture. His vintage guitar collection remained on the walls along with the black-and-white photographs from a local artist he’d collected over the years. Ornamental Harley and Triumph parts scattered the apartment, shining in the sun that swept in through the ten-foot-tall windows.

Max had arranged a cleaner to visit once a week while Carter was in prison, to make sure everything was just so.

“The place looks good, right?” Max asked.

Carter smiled. “Yeah, it does. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem.” He moved around to the large double stainless steel fridge and opened it to display a large stock of alcohol. “Surprise,” he said with a laugh. “Just for you, my friend.” He opened two bottles of beer and handed one to an amused Carter.

“To your freedom,” Max said solemnly as they clinked their bottlenecks and then took a gulp. Carter had never been happier that alcohol wasn’t prohibited as part of his parole conditions, even at ten in the morning.

He belched loudly in appreciation and grinned. “I needed that.”

Max handed him another. “So, Carter, free man extraordinaire, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”