All Chained Up by Sophie Jordan

Author:Sophie Jordan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-04-01T07:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

THURSDAY NIGHTS WEREN’T the busiest at Roscoe’s but they still saw a hefty crowd. Bud was closing up tonight, so Knox left just shy of midnight. The crowd had already started to thin by then. Some people actually had to get up early for work. Aunt Alice had off tonight and she promised to take dinner to Uncle Mac. Knowing her, she had probably stocked the fridge with fresh groceries, too. At least the old man had a good meal tonight. Knox would get up early and make him some eggs and bacon before he took his run.

He rarely missed a morning run. After eight years locked up he couldn’t get enough of jogging in the wide-open spaces and dragging all that clean fresh air into his lungs. He wasn’t in a ten-by-eight cell. He wasn’t in the yard either. He didn’t have to worry about where he could and could not go. There was none of the constant tension. Just freedom.

The back parking lot was empty as he made his way to his pickup. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, checking for messages. He didn’t have many contacts. Only a few people even bothered to text him. His aunt and uncle. Couple of guys from work so they could verify work schedules. His cousin Becky texted him occasionally.

But he wasn’t checking for them. He was checking to see if Briar had texted. He knew it was probably too soon for her to know one way or another if she was pregnant, but it had been almost a week since he saw her, and he couldn’t get her out of his head. He told himself it was because he’d screwed up and neglected to use a condom, but he knew that wasn’t it. That wasn’t the only reason. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. How she felt against him. How she tasted. One night together hadn’t purged her from his system. It only made him want her again.

Loose gravel skidded beneath his boots as he came to a hard stop at the sight of his truck. It was the same truck he owned before he went in. He’d saved up a lot of summers for it. It wasn’t in the best shape, but it ran smooth, and it definitely looked better before he went in to work tonight. A couple of the windows were crashed in and it looked like someone took a baseball bat to the body of the truck.

They’d also written in red spray paint across his door. KILLER.

“Shit.” He exhaled a heavy breath. His aunt had mentioned that a couple of guys stopped by Roscoe’s asking for him. She suggested that they might be old friends, but he knew better. He didn’t have any friends left. He hadn’t kept in touch with anyone while he was inside.

They were probably friends of Mason Leary. The guy he killed. He’d had friends. Family. People who refused to believe that Mason was a brutal rapist. They would care if Knox was out.

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