Unlawful Seizure (Filthy Florida Alphas Book 1) (22 page)

I
t’s a fucking free for all. I’m being sentenced for my escape. Nothing is going according to plan, and that’s because of one woman. Jenna. The bitch is laying low again, but only after tipping off the local news stations about the connection between the Vipers and our governor and how a deal was being brokered to get a pardon for me because I was Marcum’s kid. The governor had been steadfastly denying it, but the fucker had also kept a journal. Fucking moron. I figure my shot at getting out of here in a month, to be with my family, is gone.

I’ve seen Tess twice since I’ve been locked up and each time kills me. She visits through glass on a damn phone. I can’t touch her. I can’t hold her and every time I see those damn tears in her eyes I want to scream. Marcum is scrambling, trying to find another angle to help us, but with the governor already in hot water, that’s a long shot at best.

“After considering the facts in the case and the jury recommendations. This court is left with a conundrum, Mr. Kincaid.” The judge begins. Tess is sitting behind me. It’s the closest we’ve been, in what seems like forever. I can catch her strawberry scent in the air, and it makes me ache. Jesus, I miss her. “The court puts a lot of credence in the testimony of Tess Oliver, but the unveilings by the story and subsequent investigation that is still ongoing in the governor’s office cannot be ignored,” he continues, and it feels like my heart stops. This was what Marcum and I were both afraid of. “At the same time, upon review of not only your military record, but that of your prison record, I can’t find anywhere in there that reads you are a danger to society. But in consideration, the seriousness of your previous crime cannot be overlooked.” What the fuck does that mean? I question to myself, trying to stomp out the hope inside of me.

“Fucking hell,” Marcum mumbles behind me, and I hear shifting of bodies too. When the judge starts again with more gibberish, I look down and close my eyes…and wait for him to tell me what I really need to hear.

“I sentence you, Maxwell Kincaid, to an additional year for fleeing custody and evading arrest. To be served in addition to your previous sentence.”

I hear the cries in the courtroom, mostly Tess’s, and I hear Marcum’s cussing, but it’s all from a distance. A year in addition to my previous sentence. It might not sound like a lot of time to someone else but to me, it sounds like a fucking lifetime. A year or longer away from my child, away from Tess. Hell, my baby will be walking before I get to lay eyes on it, and there’s no guarantee it will be that soon. They had turned me down for parole repeatedly before. With this new sentence, I’m not even sure how soon I can get a parole hearing, let alone if Marcum and I can fix it, so I get parole. I can’t even marry Tess unless I do it inside a jail, and that’s not happening. Regrets are burning a hole in my gut. If I could just go back…

“Please rise,” the bailiff calls out, and I stand as if on autopilot. Tess is reaching out to me; I feel her touch on my shoulder. I’m handcuffed; I can’t take her in my arms. Her beautiful green eyes are filled with tears, and she keeps repeating how much she loves me. The deputies come to get me. My lawyer, Tracey McDonald, might look good in heels but is useless. She is spouting nonsense about appeals, and all I can do is stare at the woman I love.

“I love you, Tess,” I tell her. I do. I should have told her before now. I should have told her anywhere, but a crowded courtroom where they are dragging me away from her, and her tears and cries are between us. I should have told her sooner. It’s just another failure. “I love you, Tess,” I tell her, one more time before I turn away.

A little over four months later

L
etting Max go was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done. It felt like I was cutting out my heart. It felt like I was dying. When I watched them drag him away, a part of me did die. Being without him is like losing a part of myself. I exist without Max, just going through the motions. It’s miserable.

Marcum and the club have been my lone source of sanity. Marcum moved me into the beach cottage that Max and I shared together before. He offered me Max’s house, but that wasn’t where I wanted to be. This place has memories, good memories, of my time with Max. Cherry had the boys work like crazy to fix everything the baby or I could need. We turned one of the spare rooms into a nursery, which I decorated in pinks and browns with baby animals as my theme. My favorites were the baby giraffes and hippos even though Marcum said the hippos were going to scare the hell out of his granddaughter.

Over the past few months, I’ve managed to turn this place into a home. It feels good, except Max isn’t here. It’s been hard going through this alone. Not money wise, because apparently Max fixed it so I didn’t have to worry about working. That takes some getting used to, but it’s been good. I’m not sure where I’d find the energy to work right now. The most difficult thing to experience without Max is the pregnancy. From the morning sickness to the swollen feet and bloated feeling, all the way to the increased sex drive and being tired all the time—all of that I’ve dealt with okay. It would have been nice to have Max with me though, to complain to and hold my hand. Marcum and Cherry have gone with me to every doctor’s appointment. Their support has been invaluable, but again, I wanted Max by my side. He’s missing so much. He hasn’t even got to feel the baby kick.

I knew it wouldn't go as easily as Marcum and Max believed. I knew it. Life just doesn't work that smoothly. It never has. It has been almost four months since Max was sentenced. I get to see him for thirty minutes every two weeks. That's it. It's a special kind of hell being so close to him but never getting to touch him.

Max is miserable; I see it in his eyes. Sometimes I think I make it worse. With each visit, he gets more sullen and withdrawn. Today is special though. I get to see Max without the glass division between us. It took some major work from Marcum and him finessing government officials, but I get an hour to touch and hold Max. He can finally feel his daughter move. As the guard leads me to a small closed off room, I am filled with excitement and nerves. I need this to work. I need this to get through to Max; to give him hope.

The door opens, and Max is sitting at a table, looking angry. He always looks angry these days.

“I'll be right outside, Ms. Oliver. I told Marcum I'd do my best to give you an hour but if the men can't keep the supervisor busy I'll have to come in and get you early. The warden only gave us the go ahead for fifteen minutes,” the guard says.

“I understand. Thank you, Andy,” I tell him, wishing he would leave already.

“What's going on Tess?” Max asks, his voice darker than I remember.

“Marcum fixed it so we could spend our time today just the two of us.”

“Why?”

“Gee, Mad Max. I've missed you too.”

“You shouldn't be here. I told you last time, to quit coming. There's nothing here for you, Tess.

“The man I love is here. The father of my child is here, Max.”

“We were wrong, Tess. There’s no guarantee of when I’ll get out of here. Hell, our child could be in high school. Do you seriously think you can continue living like this? You need to grow up.”

“It’s just a year, Max and then…”

“And then, nothing. Don’t you get it, Kitten? I murdered someone with my bare hands. Then, I escaped. That’s all they see. That’s it. I’m just a number, another worthless piece of scum in the system. The year will come and go and then it will be just like before. A parade of parole hearings where nothing changes.”

“That’s not true, Max! I told you before. I could have got you paroled that day. I know it! You just need to play the system, sweetheart.”

“You need to quit dreaming, Tess. This isn’t a fucking fairytale. There’s no happily ever after coming for me. You need to find a man and get that white picket fence you’ve been dreaming of. It’s not with me. It will never be with me.”

Tears are pulled up from my soul. Each word he utters in that cold, dead voice he’s using, cuts me open and makes me bleed.

“Stop it, Max. Just stop it,” I plead, not wanting to hear this. I’m going nowhere, and he’s wasting our time. He loves me; I know he does.

“Stop what? Making you face reality? I told you that day before this all went down. Don’t you remember, Tess? I told you not to forget who I was. I told you. I’m a murderer. I’m property of the state of Florida. I have nothing to offer you. Nothing.”

“You’re my heart! You’re my home, Max! Jesus, we’re having a baby!” I yell, walking to stand in front of him, needing to erase the distance between us—both physical and the kind he’s trying to put there.

“No, we’re not, Tess. I haven’t been there for anything other than laying dick to you. Don’t you get it? Hell, I can give you more of that here today if you want. Just strip.”

“Max…” I’m physically hurting from his words. I didn’t envision today going like this. I had built up so much in my mind. None of it was like this. This is slowly destroying me.

“That’s all I am, Tess. A willing dick.”

I grab his hand and place it on my stomach. On cue, our baby kicks against his hand. Something flashes in Max’s eyes before the mask slams back into place and his hand curls into a fist and yanks away from me. I don’t give up. I can’t.

“That’s our baby, Max. Ours. You’re a father. You may not be with us right now, but you will be, sweetheart. You will be, and then we can finally live our lives….”

“I’m a sperm donor, Tess. That’s it. I’m going to be nothing in that child’s life. I told you.”

“No! You’re the man I love, the man I gave my body to!”

“A willing dick, who enjoyed the fuck out of getting inside you. That’s it. Go ahead, Kitten. Strip for me and I’ll give it to you here. Hell, it’s been a long dry spell for me. You might be enough to tide me over so I won’t have to use my own hand for a few weeks.”

I slap him. This is not my Max. I don’t know who this man is, but he’s hateful, he’s crude, and he’s vile. He’s slowly killing me with his words. The echo of my hit vibrates in the air, for minutes after I do it. I just stare at him with tears in my eyes, and Max returns my stare. His dark eyes are harsh and cold. He touches the place on his jaw where I slapped him.

“I think we’re done here,” he says.

Those words…kill.

I reach inside the small purse I brought with me. There’s nothing inside but two items, because of the security. Both things are pictures. I take them out and place them on the table beside us. A picture of the newly finished nursery and a picture the doctor printed of my last sonogram.

“I don’t know what you wanted to accomplish today, Max. If it was hurting me, then your mission was accomplished. I brought these for you. I stupidly thought you’d want to see your daughter. You can just throw them away,” I tell him quietly, my voice thick with tears. A few have escaped, but I’m doing my best to keep them in, at least until I get out of here.

“My daughter?” he asks, but I’ve already turned away. I can’t stay here, not now. I pause at the door, trying to breathe through the pain.

“Goodbye, Max.”

He’ll never know how hard those words were for me to say. Then again, apparently he doesn’t care.