Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I found myself grinning.
“You think you could?” I questioned curiously.
He nodded. “I know I could.”
My lips twitched. “You ride?”
His head tilted. “Motorcycles?”
I nodded.
“I had one before I moved into my new home.” He gestured to the world around him. “But I told Izzy to sell it to help pay for my mortgage.”
Now was not the time to tell him that he most likely still owned that bike.
But, I couldn’t let him think that his sister had not been struggling to make sure he had a life to return to when he got out.
“Uhh, about that.”
Chapter 17
I’m a fucker upper. I fuck things up. That’s what I do.
-Izzy to Rome
Izzy
Today was visitation day with Slate, and I couldn’t wait to go talk to him.
I had so much I wanted to tell him, and it was like a bubbling pot inside my chest.
My happiness about where I found myself was palpable.
I’d even ran by my Abuela’s house and gotten a few of Slate’s favorite cookies.
The guard usually allowed Slate to sit in the very corner, away from the farthest guard, meaning I might get a chance to slip him the cookies.
If I did get the chance, then I’d give them to him.
Usually they didn’t care. Most of the time it was the inmates around him that I had to be careful of since you weren’t allowed to give any prisoners food and drink.
But, like I said, Slate was loved by the guards, and if I didn’t get a chance to give them to him during the visitation, then I’d slip the cookies to the guard, and they’d find a way to get it to him.
Against the rules, but what-the-fuck-ever.
“Good morning, ma’am,” the guard, Cosby Johnson, said. “How are you?”
I grinned. “I’m great, Cosby. How’s the new baby?”
Cosby grinned. “Little rascal is a whole forty-five pounds. When I got that Golden Retriever for my wife, I had no clue that he was going to grow so fast.”
I snorted. “Goldens don’t get that big. But they do grow fast from what I understand.”
Cosby skipped over the box of cookies, did a cursory glance in my purse, and then handed it back to me.
I wasn’t sure why they even bothered at this point. I could’ve hidden any number of things in there, and he wouldn’t have found them.
Again, that likely had a lot to do with my brother.
“Have a nice chat,” he said, waving me through the line.
I smiled at him and moved out of the way for the next person to be checked—which was a lot more thoroughly than I had been—and headed for my usual seat.
Once everyone was checked in, they’d bring the inmates in.
Until then, I busied myself on my phone, studying up on my driving laws.
Today I was getting a driving lesson.
I wanted to make sure I was prepared.
I was nervous as hell and, honestly, questioning whether or not this was the best idea.
Maybe I was just not meant to drive. Maybe, if I drove, I’d have an accident and die.
I was so focused on my thoughts that I hadn’t been paying attention to the inmates coming into the room until Slate dropped down in front of me, scaring the absolute crap out of me.
“Boo!”
Slate’s grinning face had me reeling.
I screeched, then reached forward and punched him in the arm.
“Slate, you bastard. You know I don’t like that!” I growled.
Slate’s grin was unrepentant.
“The last time you freaked out over nothing, you were pregnant,” he teased.
He looked immediately sorry that he’d brought it up.
I narrowed my eyes. “Shut up. And I’m not mad. You’re allowed to mention her.”
His lips twitched. “Sit down and stop making a scene. You know how I hate the attention.”
I rolled my eyes and started with my first bit of good news.
“He’s going to teach me to drive.” I smiled. “And then, once I’m good at it, I’m going to go take the test.”
His eyes narrowed.
“So... I heard that you’ve been paying my mortgage,” he drawled.
I blinked innocently. “Isn’t that what I was supposed to do?”
His eyes narrowed. “What you were supposed to do was sell my Harley, and then use that money to pay off my mortgage each month. I’ve heard that you’ve been paying my mortgage out of your own pocket.”
I opened my mouth and closed it, suspicion filtering through my mind.
“How do you know that?” I hedged.
There was no use in lying. Slate always could tell when I was and didn’t hold any punches when he knew it.
“I was told by your man.” He paused. “And before you get all mad and shit, you shouldn’t. He was just trying to get me to like him.”
I snorted loudly. “Did it work?”
His eyes went hard. “If he protects you, I’ll love him.”
I felt something inside of my chest soften at knowing that my brother would make an effort to get along with him.