Conviction (A Stand-alone Novel): A Bad Boy Romance (2 page)

"Sorry." I forced my fingers to let go.

* * * * *

Jace threw on his sunglasses and looked out the limousine window. I should have been soaking up the sights of the outside world, but I studied my fingers instead. Controlling myself was going to be a problem.

"You were a softie," Jace rubbed his wrist. I could feel his eyes measuring me from behind the dark lenses. "A gangly kid who never pushed back."

"Is that why you were friends with me? You needed someone to push?"

"I needed someone with more than half a brain and a bigger vocabulary than football," Jace said. "You fit the bill and didn't take any of my shit. Now it looks like you don't take shit from anyone."

"Yeah, well, while you were out living the NFL dream, I was fighting. I fought to do my work, to earn my college degree, to be left alone."

"They got a lot of gangs at FCI Three Rivers," Jace reminded me.

"I was never much of a joiner."

Jace moved like a lightning strike. He had fast hands, but I swung the can of beer out of his reach and cracked the back of his knuckles with my fist before he could touch a drop. The sharp bone on bone connection hurt, but we both sat back without a wince.

"You're a hard man, Ayden King. Prison changed you."

"That's what it does,” I shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't change again. I know who I want to be and not a damn thing is going to stop me now."

Jace's bright smile lit up the entire limousine. "Did I hear you say you got a college degree?"

"In business. Though I'm not sure who's going to let a criminal like me anywhere near their capital. Might have to take your old job at the grease fryer. That burger place still there?" I asked.

"Very funny. What's funnier is that place burned to the ground. Grease fire," Jace chuckled. "Though why are you talking about getting a job? I'm gonna take care of you. It’s the least I can do, and I'm gonna do it."

"Let me sit around all day getting fat like you? No thanks.” I eyed his waistline.

Jace rubbed his slightly protruding belly. "See? I need someone on my side to tell me how it is. I'll hire you and that business degree. You can help me keep an eye on my empire."

"I gotta say I'm surprised you still have an empire. Isn't Uncle Samuel helping you out?"

Jace snorted. "I'd be king of a shit crater if that old man had gotten anywhere near me."

"Like your paper route," I reminded him.

"God, what a disaster that was. First off, he stole my alarm clock so he could listen to the football game while he was taking a shit. Then he used newspapers for his muddy boots," Jace remembered.

"And then he used the whole bag of newspapers to start that bonfire in your backyard.” I shook my head, the smell still strong in my memory.

"The one the whole fire department came to." Jace shook his head and swore. "When I got fired, Uncle Samuel told me that all I'd ever be good at was football."

"I'd say it sucks that he turned out to be right but is that a flat screen television?" I watched as the thin television with bright high-definition rose out of a seat back at the touch of a button.

"Yeah. Uncle Samuel used to come to my games and celebrate. He celebrated a lot."

"In illegal ways," I said. "I was surprised I never saw him show up at FCI. Not as a visitor but as my neighbor."

"He probably would have, but he died." Jace punched the button to hide the flat screen TV again.

I finished the beer and crumpled it with one hand. It was not as satisfying as it looked in the movies. Instead, Jace eyed my hand warily, and I realized I would need to smooth out my rough edges if I was going to fit in on the outside.

He tossed me another beer, and I cracked it open. The limousine had turned off the highway and was heading away from San Antonio. I did not say anything because I did not care. I was out and never going back and that was all that mattered.

"You know that fucker never even gave me a proper thank you?" I bit out. "I took the fall for him and for you, and he didn't even come to my sentencing. Least he could have done was visit once in fifteen years."

"I came to your sentencing. Never cried like that again. The look on your face when you realized how many years you gave up," Jace blinked hard and looked out the window.

"For you more than your uncle.”

"If it makes you feel any better, Uncle Samuel died of an overdose," Jace said.

"At least there's a little justice in the world." I sat back and wondered where we were heading.

"I don't see it," Jace grumbled. "I carried those packages for my uncle hundreds of times. The one time you take it, and everything goes straight to hell."

"Did you know what was inside those packages?" I asked.

Jace shrugged the shoulders of his expensive suit. "I was good at not knowing things. My uncle told me I could plead ignorance and everyone up to the Supreme Court would believe me. Not really a compliment."

"Could've been worse. What would you have done if you knew? No way a high schooler's going to stand up to his old man, especially not if he's running large amounts of cocaine for whatever drug ring is in power. You had other things to concentrate on. All those recruiters knocking on your door."

"You had other things to concentrate on too," Jace said. "The only one I knew who passed those tests for college without retaking them a half dozen times. You had a whole plan. You should have stayed home that night and studied. It’s all my fault."

"Are you kidding? I would have been stuck at home listening to my old man complain if it wasn't for you," I said. "One conversation with him was a lot harder than doing time."

Jace smiled, but it was sad. "You were such a damn good kid."

I shrugged. "It wasn't about me, it was about him. It’s gotta be hard when all that high school glory slips away and you end up fat, single, and working a job you hate. He wanted me to relive his best days, so he could watch that instead of his life heading into the shitter."

"Wow, I don't like any of that. What'd they do? Send you to a therapist in there?" Jace asked.

"Something like that." I looked out the window and realized I would see prison walls everywhere I looked for a long time. "There's a lot of guys in there with fathers like that, a lot of guys that
are
fathers like that, and a lot of guys with time to form opinions."

"Sounds better than therapy," Jace said.

"Whoa, wait. Are you saying you've gone to therapy? Shit, was it my comment about glory fading away?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

Jace sat up and smoothed down his suit. "Do I look like my glory is fading? Nah, I'm glad I'm retired. No more long work- outs and hard hits. But I did talk to someone about what happened to you. They said I had a version of survivor's guilt."

"Well, if I'm going to work for you, then you gotta let that guilt go. I knew what I was doing that night," I said. "I told my dad that night that I'd made second string. He yelled at me for an hour about accepting failure. He said I would never amount to anything and in his house second string was an embarrassment. I left that night intending to never go back."

"So that's why you took the package from me? That's insane. You could have just left, gone anywhere, and instead you decided to go to prison." Jace flexed his big fists again.

"You know as well as I do there were only a few ways out of our Texas town. You had one of those chances with football scholarships, and I sure as shit wasn't going to let you lose it," I said. I forced myself to look at Jace, the way I could not on the day of my sentencing. "I knew what prison would get me."

"You just didn't know it'd be fifteen years." His eyes had a bright sheen that we both ignored.

"That's over now. It got me away from my father, and I earned my college degree." I ground my teeth.

"Fucking Ayden King, you could never do anything the easy way," he said.

"Family tradition."

"So do you have any idea where your old man is now?" Jace asked.

"Why? I finally gave that sonofabitch exactly what he wanted. I proved I was a failure and I amounted to nothing. My reward is that I never have to see him again."

"He never visited you?"

I shifted in my seat and ran my hand over the smooth leather again. "He'd come every once in a while. When some law firm or group of law students thought my case could be overturned. I just wanted to ride out my time, good behavior shaved years off my sentence. So, when my dad realized I would not cooperate and there'd be no settlement money, he would disappear again."

"Does he know you're out?"

"Not unless you find him and tell him," I said.

Jace uncurled his fists and clapped his hands together. The sound was ear-shattering in the quiet cocoon of the limousine, but I smiled. It was my friend's sign that he was putting things behind him and that always meant there was something fun in the future just ahead. My heart gave one painful beat. I was so glad to still recognize my best friend.

I just wanted to start clean over. I was going to put prison, my father, and all the years of waiting behind me. Jace was my one tie to my old life, but as I looked around at his first class world, I knew it would be easy to never look back.

"Alright, it's time. I'm gonna say it and I'm gonna only say it once on account of your attitude and all," Jace said. "I owe you everything, and I am going to make it up to you. Whatever you need, you've got. Whatever you want, you'll get. This is the whole reason I threw myself into investments. You know all that money talk gives me a headache, but it turned out alright because now I've got way more than enough to set you up for life."

"Glad you're only saying that once. Are you done now?"

"I'm serious, Ayden. You have to let me do this for you."

"No, I don't." I gave him a hard stare. "I need to earn my way. I need a real job that takes work. I can't coast, Jace, or all I'm going to think about is those walls. I've been sitting on the sidelines for too long, and now I need to get in the game."

"Alright, alright. Are you done?" Jace asked. "You can earn your way, but I can be the one to get you a legit job. You can pay rent, buy groceries, budget, and do whatever the hell else you want. But you're not getting rid of me. I'm your fucking guardian angel."

I laughed. "Nice language, angel. Holy shit. What is that?"

The limousine had pulled into a private airport. The opening and closing of the chain-link gates made my stomach give a sick flip. A sleek white jet with a long nose and wings that turned up sharply at the end stood on the tarmac.

"Our ride to Vegas. Life's given me a lot, Ayden, and I plan to share. Hope you're ready."

After fifteen years, I thought I was ready for anything.

Chapter Two

Ayden

The flight crew lined up on the tarmac next to the shining plane. The pilot, co-pilot, and three flight attendants all smiled and shook my hand. They were the first people to greet me without knowing my background. In my new suit and standing next to Jace, I could have been anybody. I knew I needed to decide who that was and quick.

Inside it had been easy to outline exactly who I wanted to be. All I had to do was look around and eliminate what I did not want to be. Now I watched Jace greeting the staff of his own private jet, and I wondered how I was supposed to fit in. This had been far out of my scope of imagination.

"What kind of plane you got here?" I asked the pilot. I had no idea what else to say.

"Bombardier Learjet 85," the pilot said. He stepped back and gave a proud sweep of his arm. "The very best in private luxury. She's a real treat to fly too. Feel free to check out the cockpit."

"He doesn't want to spend his flight jammed in the cockpit," one of the flight attendants chirped. "He's going to want to stretch those long legs."

Legs were all I could think about when I looked at her. The black pencil skirt was classy but hugged her curves in a way that drew my eye. I forced myself to study the plane as we boarded.

"What's with the logo?" I asked Jace.

He laughed. "You're telling me you haven't been playing chess for the last fifteen years? It’s a knight. Get it?"

"Yeah, your last name. Very clever," I shook my head.

"That too, but it’s mostly a nod to you. I was never much of a chess player. It’s how we used to talk about football," Jace said. "One masterful person looking down on the field and moving all us players. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. My dad knocked me upside the head for making that analogy.” My spine stiffened at the memory.

"And probably for using the word 'analogy.' You play while you were, ah, away?" Jace asked. He led the way up the steps to the private jet.

Chess inside had been intense. Those inmates that played craved the intellectual showdown and spent hours studying strategy. Within my first two years I had devoured the prison library's chess books and used every second of my computer time to study. Towards the end, there were very few players willing to sit down with me.

I looked up at the white knight on a black background and smiled. It was nice to see my opening move on the side of Jace's plane. It had to be a good sign.

Jace's phone rang. He apologized and disappeared into the interior of the plane. I took one more look around at the wide Texas horizon. I had imagined flying out of San Antonio thousands of times. Once we lifted off, I was going to leave everything behind and be free. It was just I had always imagined doing that in coach, and now here I was in the doorway of a private jet.

Everything about the Learjet was a shock. The aisle was more spacious than I thought possible from the sleek exterior. The seats were wide leather recliners. Everything was ivory and gold except for the floor that was carpeted in a rich red and gold pattern.

I stretched out in my seat and did my best not to look at the flight attendant's legs again. She appeared with a pint glass, a bottle of microbrew beer, and a thick black folder.