Page 12 of Ghost

“Remember what I told you, Warden.” The warning was clear, but Pop was wasting his breath. While I was stuck behind the prison walls, I was on my own.

Pop’s eyes came back to me, and he sighed. “Keep your head on a swivel, boy.”

I snorted. I didn’t have a choice. “Take care of my girl.”

“With my life,” he vowed as he followed the warden out.

At the sound of the door being locked, I sagged deeper into the flimsy mattress and closed my eyes, drifting off to images of a baby girl who looked just like me.

* * *

A Day Later

I lifted my head when I heard the loud clank of keys turning in the lock of my cell.

“It's your lucky day, St. James. We’re letting you out of here,” the warden boomed as he prowled inside.

I lifted a brow, unsure what he was on about. There was no way the State of New York was letting me out when I still had more than a year left of my two-year sentence to serve.

The warden’s eyes flashed to me, then quickly moved to the poster hanging from the concrete wall. “Overcrowding,” he lied.

Overcrowding my ass.

With the number of stripped parts they’d found on the Lucifer, I was lucky all I got was two years.

I had a feeling my brother pulled a lot of strings for that to happen.

Whatever the cost, I’d pay him back because I wanted out of that shithole, and I didn’t care how it came to be.

Holding onto my side, I lifted up onto my ass and swung my legs over the side of my bunk.

“When?” I asked, planting my feet onto the floor and groaning when my ribs jarred in my chest. Steadying myself against the wall, I let out a slow even breath as I willed the room to stop spinning.

Fuck.

“Now.”

Eyes closing, I nodded my head. I was ready, but first I needed the merry-go-round in my head to come to a stop. I stood there breathing for a moment and could feel the warden’s eyes on me.

Once I finally felt like I had my bearings, I opened my eyes and pushed off the wall. “Good.” I breathed through the pain. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

"Watch it," he shot back in warning.

Fuck him. I was ready to go.

I’d been getting the shit kicked out of me for months and I wanted to see my kid. A hot shower and sleeping in my own fucking bed sounded like heaven too.

“You know as well as I do, you’re only doing this to cover your ass. So, let’s skip the bullshit and get me my walkin’ papers, yeah?”

His eyes turned to slits, but he didn’t say a fucking word because he knew it was true. The only reason I wasn’t leaving there in a body bag was because he was afraid of what the club would do to him if something happened to me.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

“Sure thing, boss.” My lips twisted into a smirk. How easily he’d forgotten who ran shit outside the prison walls. That was okay, he’d soon be reminded.

His days were numbered.

“Remember,” his tone hardened, “you’ll still be on parole.”

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