Chapter 12
Flynn
“Are you listening to me?”
I blinked into awareness as my parole officer stared me down. Shit, my mind had drifted off again.
I just kept hearing my front door close as Bailey walked out of my life. Because he had, hadn’t he? No. He hadn’t walked; I’d pushed him.
Telling someone you’re a murderer would do that.
“Sorry.” I rubbed at my gritty eyes. “Didn’t sleep great.”
In fact, I’d lain awake for hours, replaying my last words with Bailey. Memorizing his small, hurt voice as he begged me to tell him it wasn’t true. As he tried in vain to see the man he thought he knew.
But he didn’t know me. Not really. Didn’t know what I was capable of. And that’s why I couldn’t be with him.
His brothers, my job, those had been convenient excuses to not get involved with him. The real truth was simpler. I didn’t deserve happiness. Not after what I did.
Especially not with someone as amazing as Bailey.
“You look like shit,” Winslow said, ever the tactful friend when you needed one.
He chewed the end of a pen cap as he assessed my shitty appearance.
The cap was already a mangled mess. If he kept on, it’d disintegrate under his sheer force of will.
But that was Winslow. My size was intimidating, but his energy was far more powerful.
“Are you on something?” he asked suddenly, eyes sharp.
“No.”
“Your eyes are red-rimmed. You’re not focused. Your head is a mess.”
“I took a piss test when I came in,” I said.
“Which is why I really hope you’re clean, Flynn. In my line of work, I have to send a lot of guys back to prison.”
“I know.”
Winslow kept talking. That man loved the sound of his own voice. But I couldn’t hold on to the words, not when they were so meaningless after Bailey walked out.
He’d left when I told him the truth. I knew he would, so why did it hurt so much to know that I’d run him off? He’d never look at me the same, and that was a good thing, even if it ripped me to shreds.
No more temptation. No more daydreaming about a man and a life I couldn’t have.
“Flynn!”
I jumped, refocusing on Winslow. “Sorry! I’m not on drugs, I swear. I’ve got a lot on my mind, is all. I’m distracted.”
“You sure as fuck are,” Winslow grumbled. “I’m trying to tell you that I like you, Flynn. You’re one of the good ones. Get your shit together.”
I nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I will.”
He sighed. “Talk to somebody about whatever’s on your mind since you clearly don’t want to talk to me. Don’t fuck up your second chance at freedom. I want you to be one of my success stories.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it,” Winslow said, catching my eye. “When shit goes wrong, a lot of guys give up. Think maybe they’re better off in prison. Maybe they don’t belong out here with everyone else. You’re not thinking that garbage, are you?”
Was I? Not exactly, but…
“It was easier, sometimes. Everyone in there was like me. They’d made unforgivable mistakes. Out here, there’s good people. People who are better than me.”
“Don’t fall into that trap, Flynn. There’s shitty people walking free. Believe me. And there’s good men in prison. Who’s to say those mistakes are unforgivable?”
“Me,” I said. “My mistake was murder. There’s no fixing that.”
“No,” he said softly. “But you were protecting your brother. You were under incredible duress, Flynn. That’s why your sentence wasn’t more severe. If the justice system thinks you’ve paid your dues, why do you insist on punishing yourself more?”
That brought me up short. At the time of my sentencing, I’d been relieved that the jury understood the situation I’d been put in. But the life I’d taken weighed me down. My time in prison changed me.
I wasn’t the same man who stood in that courtroom.
“You can’t lose hope for a better future,” Winslow said. “Otherwise, we might as well lock you back up right now.”
Winslow was right. Until now, I’d been driven to rebuild my life. I couldn’t give up. For one thing, Aiden would never forgive me.
I’d already pushed Bailey out of my life. I couldn’t give up my brother too.
Halfway to my car, my phone rang. I checked the caller ID.
Holden Cross.
Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.
I’d been so caught up in losing Bailey that I hadn’t even considered that he might tell his brothers the truth about me.
I stared at my phone as if it were the grim reaper come to collect.
My heart wrenched painfully.
I’d confessed to Bailey so that he’d leave. Or maybe as a test to see if he could handle the truth about me. But never once, in all my recriminations, had I ever believed he’d tell anyone.
That was incredibly na?ve.
I answered the phone. “Hi, Holden.”
“Were you at the pool hall last night?” he asked.
That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “Uh, yes.”
“I got a call that Bailey was there shooting pool. Some guy hit him?”
“Oh, yeah.” I unlocked my car door and slid into the driver’s seat. “I broke up the fight, though. He’s okay.”
“He’s okay,” Holden said flatly. “Good to know. Someone said you two left together.”
“I…”
“Is he with you right now?” Holden asked sharply.
I dropped my head back against the headrest, a noisy exhale escaping. Bailey hadn’t told him. Holden wasn’t calling to fire me.
Yet.
“Well?” Holden pressed. “If he’s there—”
“He’s not.”
“So what happened?”
“Maybe you should ask Bailey that.”
He huffed. “Sure, because my little brother always takes my calls when he knows he’s gonna get an earful. Just tell me I don’t have to worry about him, Flynn.”
“You don’t need to worry,” I said. “I helped him ice his black eye and gave him some painkillers. He drove back to campus.”
“You let him drive all the way back there? What the fuck, Flynn?”
“He’s not my little brother,” I said shortly. “And he’s an adult. Holding him hostage would be illegal, and I’m already on fucking parole, Holden.”
That shut him up. Maybe too good. Shit. This man was still my boss.
I sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right,” Holden said. “Bailey’s not a kid, and you’re not his keeper. Thank you for stopping the fight. You probably saved his ass.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not my brother, but he’s still…Bailey. You know?”
“Yeah,” Holden said, fondness seeping into his voice. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Well, probably not exactly. Because suddenly, that kiss was at the forefront of my mind. The softness of his lips, the brashness of his tongue. The way he’d gone for it, committing fully to kissing me without knowing I was even into guys.
It was reckless, maybe, but brave too.
If I hadn’t bumped his bruised eye, if he hadn’t winced, I might have gotten pulled into a deeper kiss. I might not have put on the brakes.
I could imagine it now. Laying Bailey out along the length of the sofa.
Covering him with my body, holding up some of my weight so I didn’t crush him, but sinking down enough to mold us together.
To know the firmness of his chest, the warmth and resilience of his muscle, the framework of the body that had drawn my gaze more than once.
I’d dip my head down, graze my nose along his neck, and just breathe him in…
“I should go, Flynn,” Holden said, shattering the fantasy.
I startled, immediately guilty. “Okay. Me too. I have to…”
“Yeah. Sorry for giving you shit about last night. I mean, of course you didn’t fuck around with him. You’re a good guy.”
He ended the call, and I pulled up my text stream with Bailey.
There was an old message there from last summer.
Bailey:
You killed it on that transmission today. Thanks for your help, Flynn.
Flynn:
Anytime.
Bailey:
I’m leaving for college tomorrow. Want to go out with me and have a proper goodbye party?
Flynn:
Isn’t your family having one tomorrow?
Bailey:
Yeah…
My chest ached as I considered what might have happened if I’d gone out with Bailey. If I’d not resisted the pull between us.
Maybe we’d have hooked up and he’d have forgotten about me once he got to Thurston. Maybe I’d have only gotten one night.
But damn, I’d give anything now for even that much time with him. Now that he was completely out of reach, I didn’t want to resist anymore.
I wanted him.
Too bad I’d fucked that all up.
I clumsily typed a text to him, stopping to delete and correct words several times. My damn fingers were just too big for smartphones.
Finally, I had a message that was readable, and I hit Send.
Flynn:
Please call Holden. Let him know you’re okay.
I held my breath, wondering if he’d answer, but there was no sign he’d even seen the text. But of course he didn’t want to talk to me after last night.
With any luck, he’d at least have mercy on Holden.
I switched streams and sent a quick text to Knight.
Winslow had said I should talk to someone, and I thought maybe he was right. I needed to get my head straight before I had to return to work Monday and face Holden and his brothers.
Flynn:
Can we meet up for a beer?
Knight:
Sure. Ball Breakers?
Flynn:
No. Anywhere but there.
Knight:
Fieldhouse, then. See you in ten.
I tossed my phone into the console next to my seat and started the car.
The Fieldhouse was downtown, tucked into Main Street not far from Sauced, a pizza parlor, and Jerkers Soda Shoppe. I didn’t venture out to eat often, but I’d had food from both places because Holden often got takeout when we were busy at the shop.
Knight was already at the bar when I walked in. He waved me over.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
I smiled ruefully as I sat down. Of course he knew this wasn’t a normal social call. “Thanks for meeting up away from everyone else.”
“Sure. Look, I like the guys in the program. We’re all in the same boat. But some of us are rowing, and some of us are just floating along, hoping we don’t drown. Know what I mean?”
“I think I’m closer to drowning than I ever realized.”
His forehead furrowed. Knight didn’t bother with beating around the bush. “What happened?”
“I, uh, told someone…what I did.” I lowered my voice. “My crime.”
“It didn’t go well, I take it.”
“No, but I can’t really blame him. I dropped it like an anvil on his head, you know? I did it to push him away, but…”
“You hoped it wouldn’t?”
“No, I really hoped it would. I didn’t expect it to feel this way, though.”
Knight lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. A woman who looked as if she’d partied one too many times headed our way, blonde ponytail swinging.
“Hey, boys, what can I get ya?”
“Another of these,” Knight said, pointing to his pint glass. “And…”
He looked at me. I shrugged. “Whatever’s on special.”
“You got it, sugar.” She winked. “For you, it’s on the house.”
“Oh, uh, you don’t have to—”
“Sorry, Gail,” Knight said. “I think his heart is already taken, but I’ll pick up his tab. No worries there.”
She snapped her fingers. “The good ones are never available.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Knight said, as if the man had the first clue what she meant. He wasn’t pretty like Hollywood, but he had a certain rugged handsomeness that turned plenty of heads.
Gail placed our pints on the bar, accepted Knight’s cash, and moseyed down the other end to serve some older guys.
“Don’t worry. She flirts with everyone,” Knight said. “But I wasn’t exactly lying to her, was I? About your heart being taken.”
I scoffed. “It’s not like that.”
“The person you told, the one you pushed away. It was that kid from last night, right?”
“He’s not a kid,” I said defensively, even though I’d called him the same more than once. “He’s nineteen.”
“Right. He’s legal, but not exactly wise, huh?”
I picked up my pint glass and took a big gulp. “I don’t know why I decided to talk to you.”
Knight laughed. “No shame, man. I’m trying to get a handle on what you think. Why you chased him off.”
I pulled a face. “He’s my boss’s baby brother. He’s young. And I’m a fucking killer. That enough reason for you?”
“If that’s how you told him, no wonder he bailed.”
“Yeah, I know. I didn’t sugarcoat it or ease him into it. That was the point.”
“So what’s wrong? You regret it?”
“Of course I fucking do.” I took another gulp. “He’s…Bailey, and I chased him away. It was the right thing to do, but it feels fucking awful.”
“Was it?” Knight sipped his beer, looking thoughtful. “Bailey’s an adult, you said. Why are you so sure you can’t be with him?”
“Kind of a moot point since I already blew it.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But that’s some heavy news you gave him. Maybe he just needs some time to process.”
“You didn’t see his face. It was like I’d told him Santa wasn’t real.”
“Give the guy a break. You told him something shocking. If he knows you at all, he never would have seen that coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he knows you’re not violent, Flynn. We all do. What happened… Well, you told me enough that I know it could have happened to anyone.”
“I can’t make excuses like that.”
“Fine. But it doesn’t make you a bad man.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“More sure than you are,” Knight said. “Come on. You were in prison. You know what bad men look like. That’s not you, Flynn.
So if you like this kid—er, this superhot man, I mean—then give him a chance to accept you as you are.
Give him the whole story.” He gave me a pointed look. “Because I’m sure you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You can’t just drop a bomb and expect him not to run for cover. But once he wraps his mind around it, he’ll come back. He’ll want to know.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Well, then he was never worth your truth in the first place. But something tells me you’re a better judge of character than that. If you like this guy, he’s got to be someone worth liking.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I guess he is. But even if he comes around, how do I ever be worthy of someone like him?”
“Let him decide who’s worthy.” He slapped my back. “Because sadly, friend, you’re a little too hard on yourself. If it’s up to you, you’d never have nice things. You’d punish yourself forever. And that would be incredibly sad.”
“I never knew you were so deep,” I muttered.
Knight laughed and tipped up his pint glass to finish off his dark beer. “I’ve got hidden depths, especially when I drink.”
I chuckled. “You really do. So tell me the meaning of life, then.”
“It’s love, man. So don’t fuck it up.”
As it went, those weren’t terrible words to live by. I just hoped it wasn’t already too late for me.