Page 53 of By His Side

Levi sat back up and twisted round to face me. “To forget all about this. We can turn the car around and just go. Felix will be alright. He’s out of prison. He’s not going to commit a crime during his parole and get sent back inside because, according to you, he didn’t commit the first one. He’s got you. He’s got a place to live. Things could definitely be worse.”

I shook my head, not willing to see the sense in Levi’s words. “He’s got a criminal record.”

“You’re the one that always says criminal records aren’t important. That anyone who matters will look past them, and that it’s the future that’s important. You told me that more than once.”

It was odd to have my own words used against me. “Felix had to leave his mother’s house because he was the victim of a hate campaign.We’re talking graffiti smeared on the walls calling him a murderer, and press camped on his doorstep.”

Levi sighed. “They’ll get bored. Maybe he should give an interview or something. An exclusive to one of them. He can tell them he’s innocent and just wants to be left alone to get on with the rest of his life.”

“His mother won’t give him the time of day.”

“I never knew mine. We all have our crosses to bear.”

I was wasting my time trying to get Levi to empathize. He’d had a hard life until recently, so he wasn’t the best person to look at the situation rationally without bringing his own baggage into it. I started unlacing my shoe instead. I’d tested the recorder the previous night, the device picking up my conversation with Felix. It had been a little muffled in places when I’d played it back, but not enough that you couldn’t tell what was being said.

“Is there anything I can say that will stop you from doing this?”

I switched the recording device on and then tucked it in my sock before sliding my foot carefully back into my shoe and tying my lace again. It wasn’t comfortable, the hard plastic digging into my foot, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t put up with. “No.”

“I could call Hayden and tell him what you’re about to do.”

I winced at the thought of what Hayden would have to say about it if Levi made good on his threat. No doubt he’d break his own personal record for the use of the F word. It certainly wouldn’t be pretty. I undid my seatbelt and swung my legs out of the car. “Too late.”

“Darien!” Levi’s voice was plaintive enough that I looked back. “Be careful.”

I flashed him a smile. “I will. Try not to die of boredom while I’m gone.”

Levi pulled a battered paperback out of his jacket and returned my smile. “It’s fine. I came prepared. Take your time.”

I tossed him the car keys. “You better have these in case I get arrested. No taking it for a joyride.”

Levi laughed. “Don’t worry. Those days are long behind me.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Darien

The ID check was straightforward. The pat-down was fine because I knew they wouldn’t go as far as asking me to take my shoes off. It was the dog, just as Levi had pointed out, that would be the real test.

The brown and white English Springer Spaniel was currently straining at its leash as its handler made his way down the line. Five people away. My palms were sweaty, the tiny recording advice in my shoe feeling like a boulder. This suddenly seemed like an incredibly stupid idea. How was I supposed to explain this to work if it all went tits up? To Hayden? To Felix?

Three people away. I’d never been a man who let lust or romantic feelings get in the way of common sense. It wasn’t about that, though, was it? It was about justice. It was about righting a wrong, and giving Felix the future he deserved. Him detailing the abuse he’d suffered atJulian’s hands had lit a fire in me, and that fire required me to put things right. Which, when I thought about it, wasn’t that different from the approach I took on a day-to-day basis in my job, anyway.

One person away. I was next. Sweat trickled down my back as I did my best to appear relaxed and at ease. And then the dog was right there. At my feet. Why on earth had I thought my shoe was the best place? I’d picked a place right next to its super-sensitive nose.

The world seemed to stop as it moved closer, and then it was passing me by and moving onto the next person. Either my gamble of dogs only being trained for specific things had paid off, or I’d been lucky and the Springer Spaniel was having an off day. Either way, I’d thank my lucky stars and not question it too much.

My legs felt like jelly as I took a step forward. It confirmed what I already knew, that a life of crime wasn’t for me. Security checks passed, a prison guard waved me into the main room of the visitor’s center. With fifteen minutes still to go until my allocated visiting time, I detoured to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and taking some time to regain my composure. The last thing I wanted was to be jittery when facing down Julian Blackwell. I’d need to have my wits about me from what I knew about him.

After making sure there were no external signs of being flustered, I exited the bathroom and made my way over to the seats allocated for my visit. They were both empty, leaving me pondering the possibility of Julian not showing up. Other visits were already ongoing, the steady hum of conversation filling the large space.

I took the seat facing the door where inmates were escorted in, shifting restlessly as raised voices came from the corner, a prison officer quickly intervening to offer a warning to the inmate and his much younger girlfriend. Or possibly his wife. It wasn’t as if I could see whether she wore a ring from this distance, and to be honest, I didn’twant to stare in case either of them took offense. I checked my watch as they quietened down again, the threat of the visit being brought to a premature end enough to stop them from airing their dirty linen in public.

Five more minutes ticked by, taking it past the time when we’d been due to meet. I was just about to flag a guard down and enquire about Julian’s whereabouts when the large double doors opened to admit the man I’d come to see. Just like Felix, he’d bulked up during his time in prison and now sported muscles shown off to best effect by the white tank top he wore—a recent policy change allowing prisoners in Belmarsh to wear their own clothes. It hardly seemed fair when Belmarsh housed some of the most infamous prisoners in the UK, terrorists among their number, that they got that level of freedom when other prisons didn’t.

A prison guard led him my way, and I automatically stood. He was still a good-looking son of a bitch, seven years inside not having done anything to change that. It was easy to see why Felix had fallen for him, a ball of something that could have been jealousy, if I allowed myself to analyze it to that degree, forming in my gut.

Julian gave a toss of his head when he reached me, dark hair falling rakishly across his forehead in a practiced gesture that made him look boyish despite being on the wrong side of forty. He smiled and held out his hand, charm oozing from him. “Darien Quinn, I assume. Julian Blackwell.”

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