Chapter 2
KNIGHT
I cruised into the Lucky Strike parking lot, taking care to avoid pits in the pavement. Redemption Road didn’t have the funds for its own meeting space, so we met here every Sunday when it was relatively slow on business.
I slid into a parking space and cut the engine.
“That’s bullshit!” Hollywood’s voice exploded through the night.
I looked over in surprise. Hollywood and Tex were standing on the other side of a beat-up pickup, heads close together, an intensity to their faces that spelled trouble.
“What did you do now, Tex?” I called, keeping my voice light as I climbed off my bike. “I hope I don’t have to help Hollywood kick your ass. That would make living together a little awkward.”
Tex said something in a low voice that made Hollywood tense with fury. Then he turned to me with a shit-eating grin. “No worries there, Knight. There’s been a change of plans.”
“What change?” I asked, instantly wary.
Tex had agreed to move in with me, and I was counting on getting his share of the rent tonight.
“I’m blowing this popsicle stand,” he said. “I need some space. Some people are getting too needy, if you know what I mean.”
“Fuck you,” Hollywood growled, pushing past him hard enough to make Tex stumble. “You start shit, but you never finish it, Tex. Because you’re a goddamned coward.”
He stormed across the lot. I watched, stunned. It really wasn’t like Hollywood to lose his cool like that. He usually looked more like a model than a felon. That’s how he got his nickname. Hendrix Wood became Hollywood in prison.
He’d styled his hair in a messy, sexy tousle, and his bone structure could rival any leading man’s. But anger twisted his features into something unrecognizable tonight.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked Tex.
He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’ve overstayed my welcome, that’s what.”
“That’s not true. We’re all here for you. The program—”
“I’m done with all that,” he said harshly. “I can’t stay.”
He yanked open the truck door, and I took a panicked step forward. “No, you can’t go, man. You can’t give up.”
“What’s the point, Knight? I’ve already lost.”
He climbed into the truck and started the engine. I stepped up to the open window. “Where will you even go?”
“I’ve got family in Hayworth. Maybe I’ll have better luck over there.” He snorted. “Anywhere’s better than here right now, man. Tell Holly…”
He trailed off, jaw clenching tight. I didn’t think it was anger, though. It was grief.
“What?”
“Tell him he’s right about me. Fuck, I know it. Just can’t change it.” He stared at the door where Hollywood had disappeared from sight. “I never could.”
“Tex…”
“You’re better off without me,” he said. “Someone else will come along. Things always work out for you, Knight. You’re one of the good guys.”
There was a bitter tinge to his words. Tex had a darkness in him. We’d all seen it. He was all smiles and jokes, but there was a heavy weight behind his eyes.
“Wait, let’s talk—”
He gunned the engine and threw the truck into reverse, forcing me to step back. He whipped around and sped for the exit, the pickup bouncing over the uneven pavement.
Fuck. What about my rent?
I headed for the door, wondering what the hell I could do and feeling like a shithead for being so selfish. Tex was going through something. Hollywood too.
That should be more important than my bills.
But hell, they were stacking up, and my paycheck was modest even before all the court fines and restitution was taken out of it by the state.
If only I hadn’t run to Puck’s rescue. Hadn’t gotten into a firefight. Hadn’t shot that asshole biker.
If only I hadn’t fucking joined a motorcycle club to begin with.
I got myself into this mess. There was no blaming anyone else. I just had to suck it up and rebuild my life.
If Flynn could do it after everything he’d been through, then so could I. But it sure didn’t help to have Tex do a runner on me right now.
When I got inside, Hollywood was bowling strike after strike, looking as if he was imagining Tex’s face on every pin. Our new guy, Joyride, was hanging back and watching. He looked like he wanted to join in but was reluctant to make the first move.
Any other night, I’d try to get him to open up.
He’d kept his distance since he joined the program, and the transition from prison to life on the outside could be rocky.
Joyride was young—twenty-three or twenty-four.
It meant he didn’t do as much time as some of us, but it also meant he was damn young when he went in.
His family was upper-middle-class, and in a small town like this? He’d ridden the gravy train his whole life—until he stole his parents’ car and went out for that joyride, anyway.
He’d spun out on the highway. Caused an accident.
Got arrested for grand theft auto. If he hadn’t injured the other driver, he might have gotten a slap on the wrist. As it was, he’d hardly gotten more than a time-out.
There were guys who’d have done fifteen or twenty years for that shit. Joseph Whittaker got five.
I was a little surprised he’d joined Redemption Road at all. Surely, his father could get him a better gig. But I didn’t know what he went through in prison—or how his family and friends might treat him now that he was a con.
It changed things. No one ever saw you the same. Hell, you didn’t even see yourself the same. That was sometimes the hardest part.
I’d approach Joyride when I was in a better headspace. Right now, I was spinning. I walked past the lanes, giving Hollywood space to vent his anger, and joined the program director, Matteo, where he was setting out two boxes of pizza.
“Hey, I need to talk to you about Tex,” I said in a low voice.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “He called me last night. He’s out.”
Last night? So this wasn’t an impulsive decision he’d made while arguing with Hollywood.
“Damn. Did he say why?”
Matteo shook his head. “He just said the program had done all it could for him. He’s moving on.”
“Something went down with him and Hollywood.”
Matteo glanced across the bowling alley, watching as Hollywood flung a ball down the lane. Even this angry, his form was impeccable. The ball crashed into the pins, sending them flying. Another strike.
“Keep an eye on him for me, okay?” Matteo said. “I don’t know what happened, but it sure as shit isn’t good for his morale. We already lost Tex. I don’t want anyone else dropping out.”
“Yeah. How’s the new kid doing?”
“Joey needs time to adjust.”
Joey was Joyride. While most of us used nicknames, Matteo preferred to use our real names unless otherwise requested. Tex hated his name, though, and like me, his nickname predated prison, so Matteo respected our wishes.
Matteo sighed. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”
I chuckled. “Makes you miss Flynn, huh?”
“He was a walk in the park,” Matteo agreed, running a hand through his dark waves.
He was a gorgeous man, with sun-kissed skin and dark eyes that drew you in.
Straight as a ruler and happily engaged, though.
He was an ex-con, too, though he was no longer on parole.
He started Redemption Road to help other guys like him get their fresh start after prison.
But he was a success story of his own making.
He turned and clapped his hands. “Okay, everybody! Let’s get started.”
Ghost, our oldest ex-con in the program in his early fifties, sat at a table alone. He wasn’t much for socializing. No one was sure if he’d gotten his nickname in prison because he’d been there so damn long—thirty years or thereabouts—or because he was often as silent as the grave.
Joyride came up the steps and stopped to pile pizza on a paper plate without making eye contact. Hollywood lagged behind him, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
He wrinkled his nose at the greasy pizza that looked as if it’d been under a heat lamp for a year. I wasn’t so picky. I grabbed a couple of slices of the pepperoni-and-jalapeno half that Matteo ordered just for me, poured myself a soda, and followed Hollywood to a vinyl booth near the back.
He huffed as I slid in next to him. “Really?”
“Really,” I muttered. “You gonna tell me what’s up?”
“Nothing to tell.”
Like hell there was nothing. Matteo started the meeting, checking in with each of us about our jobs. My questions would have to wait.
“What about you, Knight?” Matteo asked. “Everything still solid at the tattoo parlor?”
“Cyrus offered to cover my certification if I want to make it permanent.”
He brightened. “That’s great. That gives you some real options.”
I nodded. “I’ll have to apprentice for a while, but it’ll be worth it to make some real money. It hasn’t been easy, living paycheck to paycheck—especially when half my check is taken away for restitution.”
“Seriously,” Hollywood burst out. “How do they expect us to start over in good faith when they make it so hard?”
Matteo nodded. “It’s an uphill battle, I know. I’ve been there. I had the support of a lot of good people, or I might not be here, leading this group. That’s why we’ve got to stick together. Have one another’s backs.”
Joyride piped up. “Is this a work program meeting or a freaking support group?”
Matteo chuckled. “It’s a little bit of both, I guess. Do you have something you’d like to share, Joey?”
Joyride shifted uneasily as we all looked at him. “Nothing to tell,” he mumbled.
“You went for a couple of job interviews this week,” Matteo said. “How do you think they went?”
Joyride shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno. Fine, I guess. They’re shit jobs. My dad could get me a better job in a heartbeat.”
Matteo’s eyebrows inched up, his only reaction. “Hmm. So why are you here?”
Joyride picked at his pizza. “He thinks I’m a fuckup. If he gets me a job, he’ll just hold it over me.”
Matteo nodded. “My dad wasn’t so different when I first got out. Best thing I ever did was get a job at Forrester Bros Auto so I could stand on my own two feet.” He gestured to Ghost. “Elias can relate. He works out at their junkyard now.”
“Yup,” Ghost said, which was the most he’d contributed all meeting.
“They gave me a chance when no one else would,” Matteo continued. “They’re a big part of why Redemption Road is here today. Hang in there, Joey, and you’ll find your way, too.”
The meeting wrapped up, and I nudged Hollywood. “What should we do about Tex?”
“There’s nothing to do,” he said. “He’s gone.”
I slid out of the booth and picked up my empty plate. “Come on, you two have always been thick as thieves. You don’t really want him running off and leaving town.”
“Doesn’t matter what I want. He made his choice.” Hollywood’s eyes looked flinty. “We’re all better off without him.”
He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself. He brushed past me and headed for the door. Joyride was already there, quick to make an escape.
Ghost stood up. “Tough crowd tonight.”
“No kidding.”
“Better than being locked up. They need to remember that.”
Ghost strolled off, tipping his head at Matteo before heading for the door. I helped Matteo pick up the few stray plates and cups left behind. Joyride’s table was a mess, the slob. I used a few napkins to mop up spilled soda, then joined Matteo by the trash cans.
“Did Tex say anything else at all about why he was leaving?” I asked.
“No, I wish he had,” Matteo said. “He was kind of upset when he lost his last job placement. But I thought we were past that…”
“I really hope he’s keeping his head on straight.”
“Me too.”
“Not to make this about me, but uh, he was supposed to move in as my roommate this week.”
“Oh, crap. I forgot about that.” Matteo’s forehead creased. “How much of a bind are you in?”
I grimaced. “Already late on the rent. I was counting on his half to catch up.”
“Okay, don’t worry,” Matteo said. “I’ll ask around. Try to find you a lead on a new roommate. Can you put off your landlord for a few days?”
“Don’t have much choice, do I?”
Matteo nodded. “Don’t leave without a formal eviction. They have to give you some time to find another place.”
Oh, great. Just what I needed. An eviction to go along with my fucking felony.
Matteo patted my arm. “I’m sure it won’t come to that, Knight. We’ll get you sorted out.”
He hadn’t let me down yet, so I nodded. He couldn’t do any worse than me. I’d had weeks to find a new roommate, and I’d struck out until Tex offered to move in.
For some reason, people weren’t jumping at the chance to live with a felon in a rundown trailer park.
Go figure.