Page 1 of Freedom to Love

Chapter One

Dare Creek County Correctional Facility

Dare Creek County, North Carolina

“Williams, move your ass.” Mary Jo, an ancient prison guard, jerked Brynn to attention as if she could read her mind about somehow surviving the old concrete hellhole unscathed. She gave Brynn one last shove for good measure, knowing she wouldn’t dare protest. She tossed Brynn’s bag of belongings to her and signaled another guard to open the last locked door. Brynn held her bag full of goods from the canteen with one hand, while the other was tucked firmly behind her back. She knew it was a habit that would die hard, having been forced to walk that way for four years.

“Don’t come back,” Mary Jo said.

“Yes, ma’am.” The door buzzed and Brynn stumbled through backward, nervous eyes still on Mary Jo. But as she walked out the final door, she smiled. No one was stopping her; no one was asking her questions or searching her.

She was free.

She pushed out into the press of new summer humidity. But damn, it felt good; free air was definitely different from confined. The bright sun was on her skin, the teasing heavy breeze playing with her hair. This was heaven. She closed her eyes for a moment taking it all in. Then she opened them and looked around.

The fences and the walls seemed enormous, and the grass beyond that, beyond the free road, seemed endless with hills of rolling green for miles. It was far different from the white glow of light she saw through smeared windows, or the fading scent of freshly cut grass as it crept over the walls. Rec time had been on cement, the sun slanting at an angle so you had to huddle in one area if you wanted to feel the rays and get a little vitamin D. A less restrictive cell block would’ve allowed her more freedom. But she’d been put where she was the most protected, and though she’d hated it, she was alive and unscathed and that was all that mattered.

She held out her arms and inhaled deeply. She could finally breathe without wincing from the smell of mold, body odor, and urine. She could not only breathe in the freshly cut grass, she could reach down and touch it.

Jesus H. Christ, it felt good.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Mary Jo said from the open door behind her. “Go. There’s no loitering here.” Her hard face was crinkled with anger. She turned her head and spat tobacco as if Brynn had thoroughly gone and ruined her day.

“You’ll be back,” Mary Jo said. “Williamses always come back.”

The words stung, but Brynn was used to them. She shrugged it off and bobbed on her anxious feet as a car pulled up along the main road. Large, rusted out, and loud, fumes billowed and the radio was so loud it was eating the speakers causing static. A hand rested on the doorframe holding a cigarette. It raised in a wave.

Brynn took off at a trot, then a jog, then a full-out run. Her jeans were loose from weight loss and her sneakers had seen better days. Her sister, Bea, was laughing as Brynn stopped at the car and yanked on her pants to keep them up.

“How ya doin’, Sissy?” Bea asked, knowing she was irritating Brynn with her nickname. She looked her up and down and blew smoke through her nose. “Well, you’re skinny, but you’re alive.”

Bea looked like hell herself with skin hanging off bones and dark dents beneath her wide eyes. By the look of her, no one would dare guess she was eight years younger than Brynn. A hard twenty-eight Bea was. And she looked as though she’d been drug by a horse through every single damn one of those days in those years. Her pupils told Brynn she was high and so did her laugh. It was loud, high-pitched, and wicked. She planted the cigarette in her mouth and leaned over to open the massive passenger door.

“Get in.”

Brynn rounded the car, tossed her bag in the back, and climbed in. The door protested when it shut, and Brynn saw the wires hanging from the steering column.

“You pinch this car?”

Bea shrugged. “You said come get you. What did you expect?” She threw the car in gear and peeled out. Brynn thought about Mary Jo choking on the smoke and smiled inwardly. Instinctively though, she looked behind them, ready for the law to be right there on their ass. Thankfully, there was no one. She reached over and turned down the radio, preferring to hear the wind rushing at her rather than an old metal band.

“What happened to Papaw’s Ford?” Brynn asked. Their grandfather had left them a nice F150 when he passed. They’d used that truck for everything.

“Traded it,” she said, blowing out more smoke.

“What? For what?”

Bea didn’t look at her, and Brynn knew whatever she was about to say was a lie.

“We had bills to pay. With you put away it hasn’t been easy.”

“Bullshit. All you had to pay for is power, water, and food.”

“Yeah, well, a lot’s changed, Sissy. You’ve been gone. So don’t preach to me. I been doing what I can.”

“Yeah, and let’s not forget why I was locked up.”

Bea flicked her cigarette out the window. “Don’t start with me, Brynn. I didn’t ask you to do it.”

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