Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Are you sure they won’t find any sign of the Hernandez brothers, Marcum?”
“Positive. Got it all handled. How about we go to that doctor’s appointment now and check on my granddaughter.”
“It could be a boy,” I tell him trying to shake off my fears.
“It could, but it won’t be. It’ll be a girl with her mama’s grit.”
I think on his answer and smile. It’s a huge compliment. Marcum likes me. I suddenly get a vision of a little girl with her daddy’s dark locks and eyes, and I like it. I like it so much, I kind of hope Marcum is right.
It’s a fucking free for all. I’m being sentenced for my escape. Nothing is going according to plan, and that’s because of one woman. Jenna. The bitch is laying low again, but only after tipping off the local news stations about the connection between the Vipers and our governor and how a deal was being brokered to get a pardon for me because I was Marcum’s kid. The governor had been steadfastly denying it, but the fucker had also kept a journal. Fucking moron. I figure my shot at getting out of here in a month, to be with my family, is gone.
I’ve seen Tess twice since I’ve been locked up and each time kills me. She visits through glass on a damn phone. I can’t touch her. I can’t hold her and every time I see those damn tears in her eyes I want to scream. Marcum is scrambling, trying to find another angle to help us, but with the governor already in hot water, that’s a long shot at best.
“After considering the facts in the case and the jury recommendations. This court is left with a conundrum, Mr. Kincaid.” The judge begins. Tess is sitting behind me. It’s the closest we’ve been, in what seems like forever. I can catch her strawberry scent in the air, and it makes me ache. Jesus, I miss her. “The court puts a lot of credence in the testimony of Tess Oliver, but the unveilings by the story and subsequent investigation that is still ongoing in the governor’s office cannot be ignored,” he continues, and it feels like my heart stops. This was what Marcum and I were both afraid of. “At the same time, upon review of not only your military record, but that of your prison record, I can’t find anywhere in there that reads you are a danger to society. But in consideration, the seriousness of your previous crime cannot be overlooked.” What the fuck does that mean? I question to myself, trying to stomp out the hope inside of me.
“Fucking hell,” Marcum mumbles behind me, and I hear shifting of bodies too. When the judge starts again with more gibberish, I look down and close my eyes…and wait for him to tell me what I really need to hear.
“I sentence you, Maxwell Kincaid, to an additional year for fleeing custody and evading arrest. To be served in addition to your previous sentence.”
I hear the cries in the courtroom, mostly Tess’s, and I hear Marcum’s cussing, but it’s all from a distance. A year in addition to my previous sentence. It might not sound like a lot of time to someone else but to me, it sounds like a fucking lifetime. A year or longer away from my child, away from Tess. Hell, my baby will be walking before I get to lay eyes on it, and there’s no guarantee it will be that soon. They had turned me down for parole repeatedly before. With this new sentence, I’m not even sure how soon I can get a parole hearing, let alone if Marcum and I can fix it, so I get parole. I can’t even marry Tess unless I do it inside a jail, and that’s not happening. Regrets are burning a hole in my gut. If I could just go back…
“Please rise,” the bailiff calls out, and I stand as if on autopilot. Tess is reaching out to me; I feel her touch on my shoulder. I’m handcuffed; I can’t take her in my arms. Her beautiful green eyes are filled with tears, and she keeps repeating how much she loves me. The deputies come to get me. My lawyer, Tracey McDonald, might look good in heels but is useless. She is spouting nonsense about appeals, and all I can do is stare at the woman I love.
“I love you, Tess,” I tell her. I do. I should have told her before now. I should have told her anywhere, but a crowded courtroom where they are dragging me away from her, and her tears and cries are between us. I should have told her sooner. It’s just another failure. “I love you, Tess,” I tell her, one more time before I turn away.