Snatching the keys to the old truck that I’d planned on leaving in Dad’s barn, I took the stairs two at a time and arrived outside to find Braxton arguing with Luce.
“Listen, Diana,” Braxton growled. “I just want to stay in tonight. Can we please just watch a movie?”
Diana immediately disagreed. “No. I’m going to prom. With or without you. Sorry.”
Braxton growled.
The girl I was calling Luce in my head, wasn’t actually a Lucy. Or a Luce. Luce was a Diana. But pronounced “Deana.” The reason I called her Luce was because she reminded me of the famous actress Lucille Ball.
“Come on, Luce.” I held out my hand for my date for the night. “Let’s do this.”
She blinked at me, momentarily stunned. “Luce? Are you sure? I mean, this is a high school prom.”
I grinned. “Yep. Luce is your new nickname. Let’s go.”
I’d graduated two years ago. It wouldn’t be that weird.
At least, I didn’t think it would.
“Let’s go.”
It was one of the best nights of my life.
CHAPTER 1
Blocking is for weak bitches. I want you to see my shit and cry.
-Bain’s secret thoughts
BAIN
Nine years later
“Thanks for the ride,” I grinned at my friend. “And thanks for getting her ready for me.”
“If by ‘thanks for getting her ready for me’ means, ‘thanks for taking my bike to the shop so I don’t have to’ is what you’re saying, then you’re welcome.” Wake laughed. “What are friends for?”
He was right.
Friends were important.
My friends more than most.
I’d met Wake Westfield while I was serving eight years in prison for murder.
Well, I’d spent six of the eight years I was sentenced to there, anyway.
Then, like a rainbow appearing in the middle of a storm, I was let out on parole with no notice.
Which led me to now.
I was heading to the shop to pick up my bike. Then I was heading to the diner to grab a burger and fries.
God, I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into one of Moe’s burgers.
I’d been thinking about the damn thing nonstop since even before I’d gone to prison.
“Anytime,” Wake said. “See you later?”
Wake had invited me over to spend time with him and his sister, as well as his daughter, for dinner tonight.
“Yep,” I confirmed. “Just got to get the familial obligations out of the way.”
My parents and brother were meeting me at the diner.
They’d asked to pick me up, but I wasn’t interested in spending four hours in a car with my brother, whom I couldn’t stand.
As in, if there was something that I could do other than that—like spend another ten years in prison—then for sure, I’d rather do that instead than spend it with Braxton when I didn’t have to.
“Good.” He winked and headed for his truck, which he’d had to drive to pick me up and take me to my bike at the shop.
He’d also taken care of getting me a new ID, bank cards, and a new social security card.
Meaning, as I walked into the shop, I could pay for my own shit.
“Help you?” a woman asked.
She was cute, blonde and had the curliest hair I’d ever seen.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m here to pick up my bike.”
She looked up then at the sound of my voice and I saw the lovely gray eyes that she had.
They were so pale, though, they were almost eerie.
“What’s your name?” she asked quietly.
So quietly, it was almost impossible to hear.
I had to guess that was what she asked, honestly.
“Bain McDempsey,” I answered, hoping I was right.
“Bain.” She closed her eyes. “Red bike, blacked out?”
“Yep,” I confirmed.
“Got it,” she turned to the computer and started typing away.
When she was done, a printer started to whirl and then she was bending under the desk to retrieve a paper, which she then handed me.
I handed her my card, and she pulled out a set of keys from inside of her desk.
She tossed them to me and said, “First bay door. Nobody is here, or I’d call someone to bring it out.”
I gave her a chin jerk and was on my way five minutes later, flying down the back roads of Accident, Florida. Something I hadn’t been able to do in some very long years.
I arrived at the diner, Moe’s, ten minutes later.
The first person I saw was my mother, who was practically hopping from foot to foot as she waited impatiently for me to get off my bike and get to her.
I made it two steps past my bike and had one foot up on the curb when my mother’s tiny body hit me like a linebacker.
“Oooof,” I said as I fell backward off the curb.
I was able to catch myself with the help of my dad, who saw my dilemma and steadied me by placing his hand on my shoulder.
I grinned at him, then hugged the shit out of my mom for the first time since I had entered prison.