Prologue
HANK
MORE THAN TEN YEARS AGO
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Fletcher.”
I stand and repress the snicker from escaping my lips.
There’s nothing honorable about anything going on here today.
My face is carefully neutral, and I button my suit jacket before clasping my hands casually in front of me.
The public defender beside me is practically shaking with nerves and is going to be zero help today.
“You may be seated.”
The judge is someone I don’t recognize and I’m thankful—there’s already enough small-town bullshit involved in this to last me a lifetime.
He’s a stern-looking middle-aged man with dark hair that has grayed at his temples.
Pulling a pair of reading glasses from his robe, he peers at the papers in front of him before addressing the court.
“Mr. Thayer, please stand.”
I do. And I’m relieved—not for the first time—that my family isn’t here for this fuckery. They wanted to be here but I couldn’t stomach them seeing me this way. I made them promise—all of them—to stay home. They did, and it’s honestly the only reason I’m not falling apart right now.
The public defender clambers to his feet beside me but I don’t look at him.
Showtime.
“You’ve agreed to a plea deal; is that correct?”
Agreed is a loose concept in this case but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Yes, your honor.”
“It says you’ve entered the Alfred Plea; is that correct?”
“Yes, your honor.”
It probably didn’t make a difference in the long run but it did to me.
The plea I’d entered basically stated that I acknowledged that the state had enough evidence to convict me and I was agreeing to their terms without admitting I was guilty.
It was made very clear to me that I was never walking out of here a free man, and the guy shaking in his ill-fitting suit to my right isn’t doing me any favors either.
Although, favors are probably what got me into this mess—not mine, but someone else’s.
The man in the black robe studies me for so long I want to break under his scrutiny but I can’t.
I won’t let myself. I’m twenty-two but I’m not stupid.
I doubt there’s a single person outside my family who believes in my innocence.
Even if they did believe me, there’s too much money being thrown at this situation ensuring I go down for this.
“Hank Marcell Thayer, you have accepted a plea deal acknowledging three years to be served at the state penitentiary and ten years’ probation following your release…”
His voice trails off as my mind wanders. I should be paying attention but this moment is something so surreal my body is trying to brace for impact.
“Bailiff, please take the defendant into custody and bring him to the holding cell to be transferred to West Tennessee State Penitentiary .” That part I hear loud and clear.
The cold metal of the handcuffs tightens around my wrists as they’re secured behind my back.
A firm hand on my arm guides me toward a side door.
My face is emotionless as I walk past the prosecutor’s table.
I don’t look at him, but I see his look of satisfaction out of the corner of my eye.
He’s talking to Trooper McGuire and there’s a smugness that raises my hackles.
I don’t react.
I can’t.
The hallway we step into is as bleak as my future. I force everything I love from my mind and prepare myself to survive these next three years until I can go home.