Page 65 of Music City Diaries

Diary #4

Dear Maddox,

It feels strange writing to you this way, but since I can’t seem to get a hold of you any other way, I thought I’d give it a try.

Despite everything that has transpired between us, you’re still one of the few people I trust. I’ll probably always love you, even if I never see you again.

I recently saw Chase for who he was. You were right; he wasn’t to be trusted. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.

He told me some things that were upsetting. About me, about you, about your sister.

I’m going to do what I can to find the truth. Too many years have passed at this point to not do something. I’m tired of the lies, and if anything, at least I’ll finally know.

I hate the thought of you in jail, but it also gives me a sense of peace. I hate that it does. I’m sorry.

I’m hoping to find out some info soon, and when I do, be prepared to be rescued all hero style. It’s my new thing.

I miss you, Maddox.

I still think Mad Dog is a stupid name.

Love,

Your Rosebud

Five

MADDOX

The metal bars clanged,the only warning before they opened into our cell block echoed in my ears. It was a familiar sound, one I’d grown used to over the past two years. With each day being the same, time felt slow, with hardly anything new to mark them by.

So, when the guard alerted me that I had a visitor, I stumbled, not expecting it.

“King, did you hear me?” he asked, looking at me strangely.

“Yeah. Sorry.” I blinked, setting down the mop I’d been using, and placed it back on my cart. I nodded to the other guard, letting him know I was done. He walked over to inspect it as I walked out, following the guard who’d come to retrieve me.

“Do you know who it is?” I asked once we were clear of the other prisoners.

It had been hard at first coming in here. There hadn’t been a lot of friendly faces, considering who I was; my father was not very popular in this neck of the woods. It took time for me to gain the trust of a few inmates and guards, showing them I wasn’t like my father.

There were a lot of tests and punishments until I’d proven I wasn’t joining sides. Once it was known I was a free man, things calmed down, and I didn’t have to sleep with a shiv in my hand.

Those first few months had been rough; some of them had left me wondering if I’d make it. Only the thoughts of my sister and Darcie kept me going. They both needed me, and if I was honest, I needed them. They reminded me I was more than the thug my father wanted me to be. Instead, I was the man Tank had helped me become.

The guard looked at me, shaking his head. McDaniels was fair and strove to do his job well, not taking bribes and helping the men to be better than they’d entered. He was one of the good ones.

“Someone in a suit. I didn’t get a name before I was sent to retrieve you. Do you think it’s them?”

I stopped, needing a second to think. McDaniels stopped a few feet ahead, waiting for me to run the facts through my head. When I felt prepared, I began walking and caught up with him.

“Maybe. Once I could use the internet, I sent a secure message to the Mavericks, hoping Tank’s allies could help me. It’s been so long that I’d given up hope they could.”

A smile spread as hope bloomed in my chest. This could finally be the moment I’d been waiting for.

The charges against me had been bogus, but with planted witnesses, it had been an open-and-shut case. I’d been told to take the plea deal to lessen my sentence, as no jury around here would ever find me not guilty.

I hated it, but I could understand the court-appointed attorney's position. Besides, it was what my father wanted. And what he desired, he got. If I didn’t go to jail to serve some bogus charge, he’d make it so I was buried six feet under.

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