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They both mean business.
“Vinnie?”
“Yeah?”
“Promise me,” I say. “Promise me that we’ll get our mother out of there. That we’ll topple the Bianchis and the McAllisters for good, and that no woman will ever be forced into this life again.”
17
FALCON
Here I am.
Sitting in an interrogation room with my attorney.
Something I swore would never happen again.
“You need to listen to me,” Lola says. “Things don’t look good.”
“So I missed a few check-ins with my parole officer. Savannah was my parole officer until?—”
She holds her hand up. “Until you whisked her away and put her in hiding. Yeah. Suffice it to say she’s no longer employed with the county. You have a new parole officer, and he’s not happy with you at the moment.”
I rub my temples and look at the ceiling. “What are my options?”
“The most frequent parole violations for which revocation occurs are failure to report as required and failure to go to treatment programs. You were supposed to go to therapy, remember?”
“I’ve had a few other things on my mind,” I say.
She stares me down. “You need to take this seriously. I can take this to the parole board, request a hearing. You’re already here in jail. It’s really up to the parole board how they proceed. They can modify your parole by adding new conditions, or they may require you to be taken to jail for sixty to one hundred and eighty days.”
I slam my hands down on the table. “A hundred and eighty days!”
“I told you this is serious. Plus, a man died after you pistol whipped him.”
A new thought occurs to me. Fuck…
“And I’m not supposed to have a firearm.”
She exhales sharply through her nose. “Give the man a gold star. What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“I think I was protecting the woman I love. Those two men trespassed, came onto my property. Threatened me, threatened Savannah.”
“I can make a case for that. But here’s the problem. You’re an ex-convict. You confessed to manslaughter eight years ago.”
“And you and I both know I didn’t do it.”
“You think that matters? You served eight years. You confessed to manslaughter, and then you got more years tacked onto your sentence for contraband.”
I grit my teeth. “And I’d either be dead or maimed if I hadn’t had that contraband.”
She waves her hand at me. “Hey, I get that. You’re preaching to the choir here. But you and I both know there are some rules you’re going to have to play by. You didn’t make the rules, and neither did I. Do I want to see you go back to prison? Hell, no. You didn’t deserve to be there in the first place.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Which I hope you will one day open up about. But the fact of the matter is that as far as the system goes, you’re an ex-convict. An ex-convict who violated parole by missing meetings and by possessing a firearm.”
I open my mouth but she gestures to me again.
