The radio blares some generic rock song but I’m not listening to anything around me.

I’m losing myself in my hands. In my work, specifically. I’ve always been able to do this with cars, for some reason they’ve always made sense to me. I can fix just about anything, mostly because I’ve spent so much time trying to. I’m lucky that I have this job where I can clock in and lose myself for a few hours.

But of course it’s not that easy. The real world always seeps in through the cracks, and I can’t stop myself from looking at it.

Avery is there in everything I do. I keep seeing her face, her beautiful fucking face. It’s exactly the same, except it’s also different. Her hair’s changed, a little longer than I remember. But she’s also grown up, somehow gotten more gorgeous, more mature. There are more layers there, more defenses, although I know I have plenty of those, too.

My lip aches a little from where her brother fucking sucker punched me when I was on the ground. I wanted to kill him. I think I would have too if Avery weren’t there. I would have gone after that bastard and ripped him apart, because he represents everything I hate about this place.

All the fucking prejudice. They let me hang for a crime I didn’t commit, rushed me through a trial. A jury of my peers, what a fucking joke. Those people all saw my last name and they knew what they were going to do. The trial lasted barely two days, and the conviction came back within an hour of them deliberating. They sent my ass to jail all because my family is supposedly trash.

But they didn’t know me. All they see are names and their assumptions and prejudices do the rest.

That’s how Thomas and his fucking friends work too. They hate anyone that doesn’t have money like he does. Thomas loves lording that shit around town, a place where most folks don’t have much. Thomas has a lot, and he’s not ashamed to show it off, though he’s never worked a day in his life to get it. He’s a spoiled rich man’s son, stupid and ugly, and I wish I could have snapped his little neck.

But I can’t let myself give in to that. I hand-tighten a lug nut on a tire, tensing and relaxing, taking a deep breath.

I have to be better than them. I can’t go around fighting everyone, hating them, trying to kill my past. What’s done is done, although the real murderer is still out there. I’m going to find him and I’m going to figure out who set me up, and nobody’s going to stop me.

I finish up this car and lower it down. When the tires hit the floor of the garage, I finish lightening it up. When I’m done, I hear a noise and look up.

Thomas Seller is standing in the open door. Sunlight spills down around him. I squint a bit and step toward him, wrench in my fist.

“What do you want?” I ask him.

He holds up his hands. “I’m not here for that.”

I glance down, following his gaze. I relax my grip on the wrench and put it down on a tool bench. “What do you want?” I ask him again.

“My father sent me here.” He crosses his arms. “Told me to come apologize.”

“Fine,” I say. “Apologize.”

He grins at me. “Sorry.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

That just makes him smile more. “He told me to tell you another thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t come near us again. He says he’ll make sure you go to prison again and you fucking stay there this time.”

I narrow my eyes and start walking toward him. “You threatening me?” I ask.

“Just telling you what I came here to say.”

“Get the fuck out of here. If you come around here again, I won’t put the wrench down.”

“Fine,” he says. “Same goes for you. Come around Avery again and there’ll be problems.”

Thomas grins and walks off. I follow him a bit and watch as he gets into his fancy foreign car, driving off way too fast.

I shake my head and sigh. I glance to my right and Uncle Nick’s standing in the doorway of the office, frowning.

“What’d he want?” he asks me.

“Nothing,” I say.

He stares at me for a second and shakes his head. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Always do.”

He sighs and walks back inside. I turn and go back into the garage, and as I pick up the wrench, two thoughts hit me simultaneously.

First, I can’t help but notice what Thomas said. He told me his father will make sure I go to prison and I stay there this time, as if he has the ability to do something like that. Robert Seller has been on the top of my list of suspects since the beginning, but that comment just solidified my suspicion.

And the second thought is stupid and dangerous, but I can’t help it. I go grab my phone from my locker and I pull up my contacts. I type up a text and pray that she hasn’t changed her number.

“Meet me tonight at the League.” I hit send and wait.

She answers almost right away. “What time?”

I smile to myself. Of course Avery hasn’t changed her number after all these years. “Ten if you can.”

“Max goes to bed early, so I’ll be there.”

I put my phone back into my locker and turn toward the garage.

I shouldn’t be trying to see her like this. I know I’m just doing it out of anger and spite. I want to piss Thomas off, make her father angry, fuck with all the bastards that fucked with me.

But really, I know that’s just an excuse. I came back to Coldwyn for two real reasons and nothing else: to see Avery again, and to get my son. Finding out who framed me, who set me up, that’s all just an excuse. I could do that from a town over if I wanted.

I’m here for Avery and my child. Always been the case. And after seeing her, I know I have to do it. I don’t have any other choice, like it’s a magnet pulling me toward her. I can’t turn away. Fuck, I don’t want to turn away.

I’m back to claim what’s mine and I’m not stopping for anything.