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“Patrick Wheat is sentenced to twenty years. A possibility of parole at fifteen.” The judge banged his gavel, and that was that.
It was done.
I’d officially ruined Trick’s life.
And when they took him away in handcuffs, frog marching him out of the room due to the chains holding his feet together, I knew that I would never, ever be able to fix this.
I made a promise to myself that day.
I would get into law school.
I would do what I could to fix the system.
And I would forever work my ass off to repay what Patrick Wheat did for me.
He saved me from dying, and I would not forget that. I would not allow his sacrifice to be in vain.
CHAPTER 4
Sometimes I think to myself, why am I such a bitch? Then I just laugh hysterically and carry on with my bitchy self.
-Swayze’s secret thoughts
SWAYZE
Six weeks later
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you,” he said. “The people in this town…”
The people in this town were corrupt.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” my stepdad asked.
Trick’s eyes flicked from the table to Errick’s eyes. “Take care of my sister.”
“I’m appealing it,” Errick promised. “I’ll get it fixed.”
Trick didn’t look like he believed that my stepfather could make it happen.
He might not be able to. But he would try. He would never stop trying.
As long as he had breath in his body, he would fight for Trick. Because Trick had saved me. And I may not be his blood, but I mattered to my mom. And Errick worshipped the ground my mother walked on. In turn, that devotion extended to me by default.
“Don’t bother.” Trick stood up, his eyes meeting mine for a full thirty seconds. “It won’t matter.”
With that, he stood up and walked out of the room, leaving us reeling.
“I won’t stop.” Errick patted my shoulder.
I felt like crying.
“I won’t,” Errick promised.
I stood up, too, feeling sick to my stomach.
That was a constant feeling over the last year. One that I was trying to come to terms with and not accomplishing it.
By the time we got home, he went immediately to work.
I went to my room and researched places to stay in South Royalton, Vermont where I could go to college, then start law school during my last semester.
That would be within driving distance of Montpelier, which was where Trick’s sister was.
Therefore, I could always be close if she needed me.
That was the only way at this point that I could make it work. For Trick.
PART II
CHAPTER 5
I either give too many fucks, or no fucks at all. I cannot find a middle ground of fucks.
-Swayze to Trick
SWAYZE
“Who is that?”
I stiffened at the intrusion of my personal space.
I narrowed my eyes and glanced over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, did I not hear you knock?”
The man behind me, my assistant Jayco, shrugged. “No.”
“Then why are you in my office?” I asked.
Still, to this day, I was intimidated by powerful men. And Jayco was big, built, and could swat me down like a fly if he wanted to.
Still, he’d come highly recommended and I’d needed an assistant that I wouldn’t have to train.
I’d been slammed with business after a high-profile case that I’d defended, and ever since, I hadn’t been able to rest a single second.
Hence the reason Jayco was there, even though he was a pain in the ass and I wasn’t sure that I liked him as of right now.
“Why is there a mugshot of a hot guy on your computer?” he pushed.
Because that hot guy made my days worth living.
“Because it’s a reminder,” I mumbled. “Now, next time, please knock. I’m busy here.”
I wasn’t busy. I was daydreaming.
Why?
Because Trick Wheat was out of prison.
I wasn’t sure how. I wasn’t sure why. But I knew he was out.
I made it a point to always know where Patrick Wheat was.
Trick.
The man that had changed my life twelve years ago.
The man that had saved me.
The man that was…
“He’s hot as hell,” Jayco admitted. “Rawr.”
I gritted my teeth, pinching my nose with annoyance. “Jayco.”
“Oh.” Jayco bounced over to me. “There is a phone call for you on line one.”
Son of a bitch.
I reached for the phone and placed it to my ear, then hit the button for line one.
“This is Swayze Marrin.”
“Swayze,” the deep, rough voice said. “Why is my sister in Texas?”
Because she asked me to come.
I hadn’t heard the voice in twelve years. Twelve long, frustrating years.
But I knew that it was Trick without him having to announce himself.
That voice.
God, it’d done something to me the moment that I’d heard it thirteen years ago, too.
I cleared my throat, trying to control my heart rate.
“There’s a home that she wanted to live in,” I explained. “It is a community-type of living. Somewhere where she can be independent, take college classes, do whatever she wants pretty much.”
