He gave me a tired look. “A reduced sentence.”
Any relief I felt was quickly replaced with fresh dread. “You mean I’ll still have to do time. No fucking way. No deal.”
“Probation, Blake. I can get you out of here tomorrow. Stay out of trouble for a few months and other than your record, it’s like this never happened.” He shoved a hand through his hair, mussing its careful placement. “You think I’d let you do time? Give me little fucking credit.”
I released a frustrated sigh. “Fine.”
He stilled. “You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it. Where do I sign?”
* * *
As unaffected as I wanted to be, my heart damn near sang when I was able to put my own clothes on after out-processing. I assessed myself in the small mirror hanging on the wall where I changed. Even though I knew I wasn’t, at least I appeared to be the same man Erica had last seen.
My glasses rested on my nose. I tossed my hand through my hair, which was due for another cut. I hadn’t seen Erica all week, and while I wanted to race home to her as fast as humanly possible, I was also apprehensive about what she would say when I finally walked through the door again.
She was the one who’d set me free. But even if she was the same warm Erica welcoming me into her arms, I knew I wasn’t the same man she’d last seen. This latest brush with the law had been painfully eye-opening. I could be prideful at times, but knowing that I wasn’t the only one whose future was at stake had humbled me.
I passed through the last security door and entered the sterile entryway of the jail. Before me, Michael Pope emerged from the waiting area. He was dressed in an expensive pinstriped suit. He was sporting a nice tan and his graying blond hair was trimmed neatly. For the first time in my life, I felt a little inferior in my current condition.
I walked toward him. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I might give you a ride.”
“I wasn’t expecting you.” Dean had agreed to meet me and drive me home, but he was nowhere in sight.
“I know. I spoke with your attorney already. I let him know I’d take you home.” Michael nodded toward the doors. “Ready?”
“Never been readier.”
The cold air outside hit me and I inhaled deeply, more grateful than ever for freedom.
Then it occurred to me that Max was also here, locked up, breathing the stale air that I’d been breathing for the past several days. “Did you see Max?”
“He didn’t want to see me.” Michael’s face was calm, expressionless. “Maybe next time.”
We climbed into the back of the only black town car parked in the lot. I gave his driver my address, and we drove away from the hell I solemnly swore I would never know again.
I sank back against the seat. Leather, a hint of scotch, and Michael’s subtle cologne, a scent that I’d always associated with him for as long as I’d known him, permeated the cool air of the car. For me, they were the smells of a civilization, luxury, and a life I’d worked hard for and wanted back. Yet as Michael naturally represented all those things, he was ominously silent.
“I appreciate you being here, Michael, but I can’t imagine you flew all the way from Texas to drive me home. What’s going on?”
“No, I came to town to speak to Trevor, actually.”
I frowned. “Why the hell would you waste your time with him?”
He folded his hands on his lap and held my stare. “When the police got hold of him, I thought I might need to intervene.”
I scanned his face, searching for clues. Something wasn’t right. My gut knew it. He shouldn’t be here, and he shouldn’t be wasting a minute of his day on someone like Trevor.
“Why would you need to intervene?”
“When things went south with Max, I hired Trevor.” He cleared his throat. “I took him off the books and closed down Max’s operations first. Then I put him to work.”
What in the ever-loving fuck? “You hired him?”
His eyes lit up a little. “I saw promise in him, an opportunity to turn him into something more. There was something about him that reminded me of you, and I took a chance. The same way I took a chance with you once upon a time.”
“I’m nothing like Trevor.”
He cocked his head and made a small sound of dissent. “A younger you, perhaps. You and Cooper have more in common than you might think . . . Angry, confused, driven toward a mission that had no focus. I could have tried for retribution after learning what a nuisance he’d become of yours. But how do you discipline a rogue like him? You don’t. You can’t. So instead I tried to change him. I tried to make him what I made you. I gave him a project. New focus.”