Page 640 of The Tempted

“There is no deal, and the lawyer isn’t coming because tomorrow your ass is being carted to Otisville. You trust Jack or what?”

I used to trust the man with my life but I don’t know if he wants me out. I mean put yourself in his shoes. He knows me better than anyone, knows the shit past I have and that at the end of the day no matter how much I try to get help I’ll always be an addict. He knows what I’m capable of, he’s seen me kill for crying out loud. How can he not want me to rot here? Every day I waste away here is a day his daughter lives a life without me. That’s got to be a win for him.

But take the title of father away from Jack, leave him as the president of the Satan’s Knights and my brother…now ask me if I trust him.

Yes.

With everything I am.

He’s got my back.

I looked back at Stryker.

“How does he expect me to get transferred?”

“You’re going to kick my ass,” he seethed. “With the charges you got pending, they’ll move you because they think you’re a fucking liability or a goddamn nut job. Either way when the bus comes you’re going to meet the Don,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Heard he’s a real winner too,” he exaggerated as he climbed on top the top bunk. “Now, I’m all talked out and tomorrow I’ve got to get my pretty face fucked up by your sorry ass so I’m turning in,” he paused, glancing down at me. “Try not to put me in a coma too.”

“I can’t make any promises,” I muttered.

“Glad we had this talk,” he said, shifting around on the bed. “You got to be a midget to fit in this fucking thing,” he complained.

“Stryker,” I called.

“What?”

“Why us? Why in God’s name did you hang your hat here?”

“I fucking ask myself the same question every day,” he replied, letting out a long yawn. He didn’t elaborate or divulge anything new and I didn’t really expect him to either. He doesn’t have roots, and doesn’t make ties, he’s not going to give me any of his truth. Stryker was just like any other nomad I’ve met…a mystery.

The next morning, they brought us into the yard and I beat the fuck out of Stryker, broke his nose and got my ass shipped to Otisville where the don himself, Victor Pastore was waiting for me.

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