“Knox Callaghan.” He gestured to the empty chair across from the table. “Have a seat.”
After a moment of hesitation, he stepped forward and took a seat. There wasn’t really any choice. There never was.
“What you did last week was remarkable,” the warden began.
Knox stared, uncertain how to respond to that.
“Dr. Walker has not stopped singing your praises.” The warden glanced to the left and right of him before looking back at Knox. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
So he was expected to speak. “I’m glad the doctor and his staff are all right.” Her. He was glad she was all right. Because he had done it for her. He couldn’t say for sure, but he doubted he would have gone through so much trouble had it not been for her.
Was she all right? She had looked so wrecked at the end. Barely clothed, her eyes huge and haunted in her pale, battered face.
Before he was hauled from the room, their gazes had locked and something passed between them. A silent exchange beyond words. She was shaken but not broken.
Her eyes had been enormous in a face that was the same shade of gray as the concrete floor. Dark smudges marred the skin under her eyes, reminding him of bruises. He was sure she had those, too, and not just what he saw on her face. Bruises all over her body. But they would fade. Probably already had. And so would that day. It would dull to memory for her.
She would put this place and what almost happened behind her. She was lucky that way. Lucky to be able to go on with her life. No scars. She wouldn’t jump at the sound of every man’s voice. There would be no nightmares she couldn’t shake, driving her to swallow a bottle of pills.
But it could have been that way. If he had just been one day longer in the hole. Or if his brother hadn’t mentioned anything to him . . .
Panic swelled up inside him before he pulled back. But it didn’t happen. It didn’t go down like that. She was okay. Nothing like his cousin.
“They are alive and largely unharmed thanks to you,” the warden continued. “A fact the good doctor won’t let us forget.” His eyebrow arched in a way that made Knox think he would have liked to forget it. He would have liked to move on.
Warden Carter sighed and looked down, treating Knox to a view of his shiny bald head as he opened a folder in front of him. He scanned it for a moment, turning one page as he said, “You were denied parole at your first hearing.”
Knox nodded. He hadn’t particularly cared. As North had been denied parole at his previous two hearings, Knox wasn’t expecting to get out at his first one. The courts had found him more culpable. It had been his idea to go rough up Mason Leary that night. He was in for eight to fifteen. North was in for only seven to twelve. It wouldn’t have felt right, leaving this place before his brother.
The warden closed the folder with a snap. “We’ve decided that you’ve satisfied your sentence. Given your heroics last week, we can expedite the process for you.”
Knox blinked and leaned forward slightly in his chair. “My next hearing isn’t until—-”
“Consider us convening now, Mr. Callaghan.” The warden motioned to the gentlemen on either side of him. “Right at this moment.”
Knox stared. He hadn’t counted on being released at least for another two years. And definitely not before his brother. His gaze moved from the warden to the other men at the table. One of the suits actually smiled at him. As though he was bestowing a gift.
“Am I . . .” He couldn’t finish the words. A mixture of elation and guilt warred within his too tight chest. The possibility that he was free after eight years collided with the nightmare of leaving his brother behind. His baby brother. Who wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t dragged him along on that long ago night.
The warden nodded. “You’re paroled, Mr. Callaghan.”
LOOKING AROUND HIS CELL, Knox couldn’t think of a single thing to take with him. He didn’t possess much. Nothing special. The only thing he wanted to take with him was his brother.
North sat silently across from him, gripping the edge of the mattress.
“I’ll visit—-” Knox started to say.
“Don’t. Don’t come back here. I’ll be out soon enough. My rep was never as bad as yours. You’re the one considered a troublemaker.” He flashed Knox a grin. “They sounded like they would probably let me go at my next hearing. You’ll see.”
Knox grimaced, sure North was exaggerating to make him feel better.
North continued, “I’ll be on my best behavior . . . make sure they don’t have a reason to keep me around.”
“You watch your back,” Knox warned, tightening the drawstring of his sack, knowing he didn’t have much time before a guard returned for him. He looked his brother over, viewing him objectively. North wasn’t as brawny as Knox but he was still solid sinew and muscle. His little brother was bigger than most guys in this place, super fast on his feet and well--versed in kicking ass. Still. That face was too pretty. Too many guys wanted to make him their bitch.
“Always do,” North said.