Page 40 of Sycamore Circle

“I don’t want to come back.”

“I also won’t be able to run interference between you and your parole officer,” Bo warned. “You’ll be on your own.”

“I don’t need your help.” Before Bo could respond, he added, “Every guy who gets out doesn’t come over here. They do just fine.” Grafton crossed his arms over his chest. “Who ran interference between you and your parole officer?”

“No one.”

“See? If you can do it, I can too.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mason asked.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

There was a new hint of anxiousness in Grafton’s eyes, but Bo didn’t try to convince him to stay. Besides, the guy was firmly under Mason’s watch, and it was obvious that Mason had had enough of his antics.

Mason stared hard at Grafton, then finally seemed to come to a conclusion. “All right, then. Let me grab a form for you to sign.”

Grafton frowned. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. When I talked to you in Madisonville, I said this program was a voluntary thing. I didn’t lie. No one’s forcing you to stay.” Mason walked to a cabinet, unlocked the door, and pulled out a form. “Here you go. As soon as you sign it, you’re done.”

Finally, finally the consequences of walking away from T-DOT seemed to sink in. “I, ah think I’m going to wait on this for a minute. Maybe I just need a week off or something. You know, like a break.”

Bo had heard all kinds of excuses for why guys didn’t want to stick around and “needing a break” was at the top of the list. The problem was most of the guys’ definitions for “a break” involved the kind of stuff that got them in the pen in the first place.

He shook his head. “Breaks aren’t how T-DOT works, Grafton. You’re either in the program or you aren’t. T-DOT stands for ‘Tomorrow Depends on Today,’ right? You can’t want to toe the line only sometimes. You’ve got to be committed.”

“So I’ve got to decide now?”

“You’re the one who brought this up, not us,” Mason said. “It’s getting late. Either help pick up this room and settle down or sign the release, get your stuff, and get on out of here.”

“Where’s Lincoln? Maybe he’ll—”

Bo had had enough. Grafton wasn’t a kid. He marched over and leaned his face close to Grafton’s. “You’ve already pushed me as far as I want to be pushed tonight,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You piss me off some more, you’re going to regret it.”

Grafton’s eyes widened before his ego kicked in. He twisted, obviously wanting to fight Bo.

Bo’s temper flared at that—which just went to show Bo that he might try to be a good man, but he still had a long way to go before he was gonna be a son his mother could be proud of. He stepped to one side, grabbed Grafton’s arm, and pulled it behind his back. “You seem to forget that I learned a few things in prison too. Now, either grow up and settle down or get your stuff and leave.” He released him and stepped back, an expression of stern warning plastered on his face.

Grafton took a deep breath. For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something, but then he changed his mind. He walked over, picked up two chairs, then strode up the stairs.

“That guy is going to drive me to drink,” Mason muttered.

A couple more men had appeared, and all of them watched Grafton head to his room on the second floor.

“Is he staying or going?” Charlie asked.

“I reckon he’s staying. At least for now.”

Charlie stared up at the empty stairs for a long moment. When he faced Bo, it was obvious that he’d come to terms with something. “If he doesn’t calm down about that girl, I doubt Grafton’s going to make it much longer. He’s too emotional. In two months, he’s either going to be dead or back behind bars.”

Bo hoped that wasn’t the case, but he knew it was out of his hands. He wasn’t the guy’s mother, and he wasn’t God. “I’m out of here. I’ll be back around noon tomorrow.”

Once he was alone, he hung his head. He’d lost his temper with that idiot. It hadn’t been his best moment, not by a long shot. Feeling a twisted combination of disappointment with the way things had gone and relief that he could finally go home, he walked out to his truck.

Days like this made Bo wish he’d tried harder to go home to Kentucky.

CHAPTER 14

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