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The knife that went into his neck when we were fighting.

My hands were on it, trying to wrestle it out of his grip.

And his wife … the woman I was fucking, she told the police that she didn’t know where the knife had come from.

She didn’t see if it was her husband’s or mine. And I couldn’t prove it wasn’t mine.

One moment taken out of my hands. I was simply protecting myself, and I lost everything.

Almost ten years of my life thrown away for a good fuck.

Well, I hope the same didn’t happen to Wade. Nobody is worth dying over. Especially not a woman.

I want a quiet life. I just want to work my job and go home. I don’t need or want a woman in my life.

Not even Eden?

Definitely not Eden.

I might have had it bad for her in high school. I might still think she’s hot as fuck. But she’s my parole officer, and I will never go back to prison. Not even for her.

I might be on parole, still under the control of the law, but I don’t have to sleep anymore on something that can’t even be classified as a mattress, lying in that six-by-six cell. I don’t have to eat that crap they call food. And I don’t have to spend my days with actual fucking psychos. Murderers. Real stone-cold killers.

I take one misstep, make one error, and I’m straight back inside to serve out the rest of my sentence.

Not happening.

I get to breathe fresh air. See the sun rise every day. And I ain’t giving that up for anyone.

I take another bite of my sandwich and chew.

“Hi, Axel. It’s Eden Briars.”

Her sweet voice in my ear has my fingers curling around the cell phone in my hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she echoes. I can just imagine her tucking her hair behind her ear in that way she used to when we talked in class. “I was calling to arrange a date and time for me to come and do the home check.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. When do you want to come?”

“Would later on today work for you? Around five-ish?”

“Make it five thirty.”

It’ll give me time to clean up after work. Not that I’m trying to impress her.

Who the fuck am I kidding? Of course I am. I’ve spent a stupid amount of my life trying to impress this chick. But I need to impress her for a different reason than I used to.

Aside from the cops, Eden is the one person who has the power to send me back to prison. I need her to see that I have my shit together.

“Half past five it is. See you then.”

I hang up my cell and squash the feelings that start to unfurl in my chest, knowing that I’m seeing Eden tonight.

“Axel!”

The sound of a female voice calling my name pulls me from my thoughts, and I look to my left and see Liddy walking toward me.

Liddy is Alfie’s granddaughter. She works in the office. We went to high school together. We never hung out at school, but she was nice enough. She was quiet and shy back then. She’s more talkative than she used to be. Or maybe it’s just my silence that makes people talkative, trying to fill the void.

“Hey.” I turn to her.

She comes to a stop in front of me. “So, um … a bunch of us are going out for drinks after work. You wanna come?”

“Thanks. But I have to pass.”

Her expression falls. “You already have plans?”

“With my parole officer, and I don’t think she’d be happy if I skipped to go to a bar.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” She grimaces. “Sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry about.”

“Sure. Yeah. Well, maybe another time then?”

It’s a question that I don’t answer because I don’t want to hurt her feelings again, but there is no chance that I’ll be going for drinks with her or anyone else in the near future because I won’t ever put myself in a vulnerable position again.

I was in a bar when I met Sadie, the married woman I was screwing. And I was in a bar with her that night, right before we went back to her place to fuck. Then, her husband caught us. The husband she hadn’t expected to come back early from his work trip.

How the hell did I not suspect that she was married?

Because you were a dumb twenty-one-year-old who was more concerned with getting his dick wet than anything else.

And honestly, I was flattered that an older woman wanted me. I mean, who doesn’t want to fuck a MILF?

I blame the fact that I grew into my looks for my stupidity. I had been awkward and skinny as a teenager. But when I got to college, I filled out and got taller—a lot taller.

Women started to show interest, and after all those years of being overlooked by the one girl that I had wanted more than anything, I fell dick-first into every woman who wanted me.

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