What has this lifestyle done for me? It stripped me of my freedom. I lost Letty. I damn near lost my life. Now seventeen years later, they are apt to remind me there is still a contract on my head. This time I won’t run, though. I paid my debts. They owe me.
This time, Miles was brazen enough to collect on owed favors. Scraping the pen across the form, Miles signed the name Miles Cormack big and bold.
Taking my mother’s maiden name, I intend to make my allegiances loud and clear.
Miles passed the clipboard back to the officer. Officer Luciano looked down at the form and gave Miles a look of approval.
“Good for you, Miles,” Officer Luciano said.
Putting two fingers in his mouth, Officer Chapman whistled for the door guard.
“Open ’em up!”
The access gate of the prison clanged open, and Miles took his first step towards freedom. Not even giving the gray fa?ade of the prison a second glance, he walked forward, slinging his bag over his right shoulder. A glossy black 1970 Dodge Charger waited at the curb.
“Corina…” Miles cooed in nothing more than a whisper.
My car. My baby. Corina still looks as good as the day I got her. There she sits just feet away with a cocky twenty-something kid leaning against the side door. Despite myself, I laugh.
“Last time I saw you, you were in diapers, kid…” Miles said to his kid brother Landon with a smirk.
“Not quite but it has been a minute,” Landon said as he flicked a set of keys to Miles. Miles caught them mid-air, trapping them in his right hand. Landon stood at about five feet eleven inches, about a half foot shorter than Miles. Rather than sporting the usual Capadonno dark look, with black hair and brown eyes, Landon favored the Cormack features that their mother sported. With straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Landon had a happy smile on his face as he greeted his older brother. Landon was the spitting image of Andie Cormack.
“Ah, freedom,” Miles said as he twirled the keys on the index finger of his right hand.
Damn it feels good, Miles thought.
“I should have known the others wouldn’t show,” Miles said nonchalantly as he approached his kid brother.
“Rainey is well… Rainey. Preoccupied with her own drama. Hangs out with this guy, Anthony. I don’t know if they are together or broken up. It changes daily. Knox is just as stubborn as our father,” Landon began.
“Fuck Knox,” Miles said bluntly, clearly catching the kid off guard.
“Dustin is busy running his garage and driving Dad around,” Landon explained. “He’ll be around later.”
“And what about Sasha?” Miles asked as a grilling look escaped his eyes.
This kid probably thinks I’m insane. He’d be half right.
“She had to be at the house for a meeting with the home health nurse,” Landon explained. “Though, I’m sure if she didn’t have that she would have come in the church van along with her other bible thumpers to pray for you,” Landon said with a wicked smile.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Miles griped loudly as his eyes rolled.
This is the same sister that was supposed to keep me out of trouble, but instead, was too busy getting high behind the same church where she now acts as secretary and Sunday school teacher.
Landon shrugged his shoulders. “It is what it is, dude.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Miles replied as he stared at the kid.
Landon was only four years old when I’d last seen him. It seems so strange seeing him an adult now. A man. I’ve missed so much, Miles thought sadly.
Time is a funny thing when you go on the inside. Although Miles mostly remained the same, a youth afforded to him by hitting the weights out of necessity to stay in prime physical condition, the rest of the world moved on. Everyone aged, went about their lives, made mistakes and tried new things.
I’ve been trapped in limbo for the past seventeen years.
Gazing over at Landon, Miles brought his brother into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet as he slapped his back hard.
“Good to see ya, kid,” Miles said happily with a broad smile.
“You too. You look good. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting you to look like when you came through those doors. You look nothing like I thought you would. The beard, the tats, the clean threads…” Landon said as he gave Miles a piercing look.
Miles ran his hand through his beard. It was a conversation starter, that was for sure. Women loved it, men respected it. Miles didn’t care, though. The look worked for him.
“C’mon, what are you waiting for? Get the hell in,” Miles barked at Landon as he stood on the curb, shooting the shit.
At the sound of Miles’s voice, Landon ran around to claim shotgun. Slipping into the driver’s seat of his beautiful car, it felt like home to Miles. Stretching his legs to the pedals and his bulky arms to the steering wheel, he gripped the soft leather tightly, as a groan slipped from his mouth. There was something animalistic about the growl that ripped from his throat. Sexual. Wild and free. Miles’s knuckles went white as he gripped the leather of the steering wheel.