All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)

Reid didn’t breathe fully. Not even once he stepped out into the night. Every bit of him pulled tight. He didn’t let himself feel free. Not yet. It wasn’t time to drop his guard. He still had a long way to go to accomplish what he needed to do and kill the man that needed killing.

Glancing around, he pulled out the keys from his hoodie and pressed the unlock button. A distant beep echoed on the night. He moved in that direction, weaving between cars. He pushed the unlock button again and this time spotted the flash of headlights.

He advanced on an old Ford Explorer and pulled open its door. Ducking inside, he adjusted the seat for his long legs. Turning the ignition, he drove out of the parking lot.

He headed east for thirty minutes, stopping at a gas station to fill up the tank with the money he’d found in the locker. This late, the place was deserted. He kept his head low as he paid the sleepy--eyed clerk, avoided looking directly at the security camera in the corner.

Reid pulled around the back, where a lone car sat parked beside the Dumpster. He swapped license plates with the clerk’s car. The guy probably wouldn’t even notice anytime soon.

He still had to get rid of the Explorer, but he figured that could be done after he got where he was going.

Satisfied, he hopped back in his vehicle and drove a -couple more hours through the night, putting Sweet Hill far behind him. He constantly glanced up at the rearview mirror, half expecting to see the flash of headlights. They never appeared.

The highway was dark, the passing car rare on this isolated stretch of road. He rubbed a hand over his close--cropped hair and settled into his seat. Desert mountains lumbered on either side of him, dark beasts etched against the backdrop of night. He flipped through radio stations. No news of an escaped convict. It had been a long time since he was this alone. He still didn’t feel free, though. He doubted he ever would.

Eleven years had passed since he’d been out, but he expected to find Zane in the usual place. His brother was simple like that. Liked his routines.

The cabin sat several miles behind the main house on 530 acres located outside Odessa. The land had been in his family for almost two hundred years, granted to them after the Texas War of Independence.

The authorities didn’t know about the cabin . . . or the hidden back road that veered off the county farm road you had to take to get there. The old Explorer bumped along the dirt lane. It was so overgrown with shrubs and cacti that it couldn’t rightly be called a road anymore.

After an hour the road suddenly opened up to a clearing. The cabin stood there. Three trucks and a few motorcycles were parked out front, confirming that the cabin was far from forgotten.

The front door opened as he emerged from the Explorer. Several men stepped out onto the porch, wielding guns. He spotted Zane at the center of them. He was stockier, the baby roundness gone from his face. He was shirtless, and Reid marked the dozens of tats covering him that hadn’t been there eleven years ago. Most notable was the eagle sitting atop a vicious looking skull. Most of the guys staring Reid down had the same symbol inked on their arms or necks. Once upon a time he would have been the one standing there with that eagle and skull inked somewhere on him. If fate hadn’t intervened . . . if his eyes hadn’t been opened . . .

He swallowed against the acid rising up in his throat and fixed a smile on his face. “Hey, little brother.”

“Holy shit,” Zane declared, hopping down from the porch and lowering his rifle. “Son of a bitch! What are you doing here?”

Reid lifted his chin and tried not to stare too hard at the emblems of hate riddling his brother. “Is that any way to welcome me home?”

Zane flung his arms wide. As if the past were forgotten. As if bad shit never went down. As if Reid could still be one of them. “Welcome home, brother.”

Zane embraced him, clapping his back hard. Reid pulled back and eyed the other men, meeting their gazes head--on. Several looked at him with distrust. Evidently not everyone had forgotten. His brother’s second in command, Rowdy, had a big grin for him, though. Rowdy reached out and clapped hands with him.

“Good to have you back.” Rowdy looked him over. “Looking fierce, man. Guessing they didn’t release you for good behavior.”

“Nah. Thought I’d let myself out.”

Zane and Rowdy laughed. “Same ol’ Reid.”

“You couldn’t have come back at a better time.” His brother’s eyes glinted with excitement, reminding him of the kid he used to be.

“That right?” Reid asked.

Zane nodded eagerly, gesturing to the cabin. “Yeah.” He shared a look with Rowdy and the other guys, and Reid got the sense that he was missing out on some joke. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Reid followed him inside and did a quick scan of the living room, noting how run--down the place had become in the eleven years he’d been gone. The place smelled of sweat and stale cigarette smoke. The upholstery on the arms of the couch had worn off. Dirty white threads tufted up as if trying to escape from the piece of furniture.