Page 3 of Exile and Embrace

“What’s going on?” Ava turns to him, crossing her arms and standing taller.

Carlson pulls out cuffs and walks over to me.

Officer Richards follows him into the room as I set the mop aside. He gives her a thin-lipped but polite smile as he stomps across the floor. “We’re just here for Finn.”

“Hands, Finnigan.” Carlson unlocks the handcuffs and holds them out.

As I extend my arms and present my wrists, I glance at Ava.

She glowers at the two men, and those full lips stay pressed together.

I bite back a curse as the guard snaps the cuffs on my wrists a little too tight.

The cool metal bites into my skin as he nudges me out of the infirmary.

I move with them. “Where are you taking me?” Though I may not be the most liked inmate, I haven’t done anything to anger anybody. At least, not lately.

“You have another visitor. No visitors for three years and then when you’re due to be released, people start appearing?” Richards sneers, that thin lip curling up to his pig nose.

Carlson leads the way down the hall to the stairs, favoring his left leg. “I suspect we’ll be seeing you in here soon enough.”

“Or maybe I’m just making arrangements for my parole with a friend, ever think of that?”

Snapping at the guards is stupid, but with a week left of my sentence, I don’t care.

They might be able to look the other way while I’m beat up again, but they can’t touch me. Powerful friends make sure of that.

Still. I need to watch it. I don’t want them to find a way to extend my sentence.

“We’ll be seeing you back in here before you know it.” Richards smirks as we descend the stairs. “Men like you don’t make it long on the outside before they come crawling back.”

“I’m not coming back.” I stand still as Carlson reaches the bottom floor and holds open the door.

Richards nods, and I walk through the door, stepping to the side of the hallway and waiting for both of them to take their positions again.

We continue down the hall before stopping outside one of the visitation rooms.

Richards pats me down, checking for contraband. When he comes up empty, there is a flash of disappointment on his face.

Christian Herrera looks up as I enter the room, his eyes narrowing.

The door shuts behind me, both guards still outside.

I glance up to the top corner of the room.

The camera’s there, but the red light’s missing.

No witnesses. It’s amazing what kind of power you have when you run a cartel.

“You’re getting released next week.” Christian nods to the metal chair across the table from him.

I take a seat, stretching out my legs in front of me as Christian leans forward.

“I’ve done my best to protect you over the last three years, but once you’re outside of these walls, there’s not much more I can do.”

His body is tense, and his presence seems to pull all the air from the room.

If I weren’t on good terms with Christian, I would be terrified of what he’s capable of.

---