Chapter 1
Logan Chase looked through the steel bars in front of him. Inmates yelled while others talked about their latest bets. It was a jungle out there, but like many times before, Logan ignored it all. He had only one thing on his mind. After nearly three years stuck in this 10x6 cell he was getting out. Freedom. That is what the other convicts called it—pure, sweet freedom. The freedom to eat a steak and drink a cold beer or indulge in anything else one wanted to. But for Logan, he wanted the freedom to hug his sister, Maddy, and let her know how much he had missed her.
“Ain't too much longer now, Logan. Going to miss you,” Derek, Logan's cellmate for the last two years, said to him. Logan turned around, eying up the black man who consisted mostly of muscle and a flashy smile.
“You too, my friend. You’re going to get your walking papers soon enough,” Logan said.
The giant laughed. “Damn straight I am. Then I’m going to eat until I'm sick and spend all weekend in bed with the wife.”
Logan laughed and went to respond, but the voice of the guard coming from behind him stopped him.
“Alright, Chase. Time to get going, unless you want to stay.”
Logan turned his head to the side. “I’m ready, boss.” Logan walked over to the bunks and grabbed his belongings which fit in a brown paper bag. A journal, a few photos, and other odds and ends he had collected over the last few years.
“You take care of yourself,” Logan said, giving Derek a punch on the arm.
“Same with you, man. Don't ever come back,” Derek said as Logan walked to the cell door that was now opened.
“I never will,” Logan said, then walked through the door. A moment later the cell door closed and Logan walked with the guard, rows of cells on each side of them.
“Good luck, Logan” “Later, handsome!” and other calls and whistles came to his ears, causing Logan to smile. Though he had known quite a few people in his time here, none were friends, with the exception of Derek. Keeping to himself and minding his own business had kept Logan out of harm’s way, and also was a bonus when granted his parole.
They were buzzed through a single door, then heading down another hallway, buzzed into another room. A guard stood behind the counter with gray hair, perhaps double the age of Logan's twenty-five.
“Name?” The guard asked.
“Logan Chase.”
The guard nodded, turned around, and walked to a table. Coming back, he set a pile of clothes and a pair of black running shoes on it.
“One pair of jeans, one tee-shirt, and a pair of shoes. Forty-three dollars and seventeen cents in change,” the guard said, pushing a clipboard toward Logan. He signed his name just as Cindy, a female guard he knew, came walking up.
“I got this, Dale,” she said as the guard that escorted him walked away.
Logan grabbed his things and turned toward her. Cindy had been especially nice to him since he came through the doors three years ago. And it was obvious why—the same look she had then and every day since, she had now.
“How’re you doing, Cindy?”
“Good. Are you ready to get going?”
Logan nodded. “More than ever.”
“Follow me then,” she said.
Logan followed her down a short hallway, then into a room with two benches and few lockers. Logan set his clothes on a bench, as Cindy closed the door behind her and leaned against it.
“I’m going to miss your fine ass around here,” she said, running a hand through her blond hair. She was pushing forty and would be considered pretty by most.
Logan nodded as he slipped his prison-issued shoes off. Cindy had numerous inmates under her thumb who exchanged sexual favors for contraband and other ‘perks’ as she called it. Logan had balked at one time when she watched him change and found himself in solitary for a week.
Taking his shirt off, she let out a low whistle, and although he felt angry at her behavior, he ignored it. Keeping his sister in mind, he hurried to finish getting changed.
“Are you sure you don't want me to take care of that for you?” she asked as she walked over as he tried to pull his jeans up, her hand motioning between his legs.
“No, thank you,” he said.
Cindy’s hands came to his hips, her tongue tracing along her lips. “When you came in walking with that air of confidence, I thought you was just another bad boy. But I soon saw what made you different,” she said, a smile coming to her face.
The last thing Logan wanted was her to do anything with him. Debating for a moment, he decided to keep quiet and let her talk.
“And what a bad boy that is as well,” she said, her eyes focused on his crotch. “I could do things to it with my mouth if you want,” she said, her hand coming to his chest.
“I need to get home.”
“I’ve never understood you, thinking you’re better than everybody else,” Cindy said, her voice becoming angry as she took a step back. Logan finished pulling up his jeans and then looked up at Cindy's red face. He was minutes away from freedom and needed to calm her down before she did something to prevent him from going. And based on what he had seen her do, he knew Cindy may just do that.
“Cindy,” he said, moving toward her and leaving his prison clothes on the bench.
“Yes?”
“I’ve always been shy around you because you’re so damn pretty.” He watched her eyes move back and forth across his body and then reached her hand out and rested it on his chest.
“I’ll tell you what…” she said, removing her hand and reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a business card, and handing it to him, he glanced over it before putting it in his pocket. “You call me in a few days.”
“I most certainly will.”
She headed to the door, and letting out a sigh of relief, he headed down the hallway and to freedom.
***
The prison had issued him a single bus ticket back to his hometown of Hollow Grove, a small town in Montana surrounded by mountains, wildlife, and a never-ending sky. It was late July, and the green landscape flew by as he looked out the window of the bus. He saw familiar farms, the people inside he had known all his life. But there was one farm he couldn't wait to get back to, his own.
Shortly after his 18th birthday, his parents had died in a plane crash, a small commuter plane that he later found out was overloaded with luggage. Their deaths had devastated both him and Maddy, who was three years younger than him. He had watched over her closely, making sure she finished high school and kept on the straight and narrow. She was a good person, and now he was just minutes away from seeing her again.
The bus entered the town, ambling along, passing by bars, the Co-op, Hank’s Guns, and so many other stores he had frequented and loved. They crawled along before the brakes squealed and it stopped in front of Langston's Pharmacy.
Logan couldn't get off the bus fast enough, his paper bag in hand. Hurrying down the aisle, he smiled at the bus driver then stepped outside. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He was now home. The memories of the past of what sent him to prison rushed through his mind, and he pushed them out. Instead he let images of his home, and his sister, come to him. They would go fishing and stay up late talking, they had so much to catch up on. He loved her dearly and could not wait to see her. The pain over the last three years of keeping his guard up, the times he was scared when riots broke out. Watching people getting stabbed and hearing the cries of other men when things far worse fell upon them kept him up late at night. Those nightmares were now gone, now it was going to be peace and happiness.
Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes. In front of him stood not his sister Maddy, but the Sheriff, Harry Parker. He was in his mid-fifties and had always been a large man, and looking over him, Logan guessed the man must have added on another thirty pounds since Logan had been away. With a large double chin attempting to make a third, beady eyes, and gray hair, Logan still detested the man.
“So, you decided to come back to Hollow Grove?”
Logan nodded. “It’s my home, Harry.”
Harry snorted, his stomach rolling like a wave in the ocean. “People don't like you around here, especially the Larsens. How do you think Pearl is going to feel that her son’s killer is back in town?”
Logan clinched the bag in his hand even harder. “I don't care. This is my home and I have every right to be here.”
Harry snorted, then turned his head to spit out a wad of phlegm. “Guess you’re right. The parole board let me know you was coming back. Anyway, I’m going to keep my eye on you.”
“Is that right?” Logan asked, hearing the underlining threat that accompanied the words. And knowing how Harry operated, Logan would have to be extra careful.
“Sure is. I know you’re going to mess up, and when you do, I’ll watch them haul your ass off back to where you belong.” Harry’s lip curled into a smile that showed his contempt.
Logan went to speak but turned to see a man walk up in a sheriff’s uniform. Like Logan, he appeared around the same age of twenty-five and had blond hair and brown eyes. Logan felt his breath catch in his throat, and he let his eyes glance over the man in the brown uniform. The sleeveless shirt showed off a pair of forearms that were no stranger to weights, the chest broad, no doubt as tone as the biceps that bulged out. But that face was where it was at. The brown eyes were sharp, the jaw line chiseled out perfectly. The word handsome did no justice to him.
“Brice, this here is Logan Chase, the convict I was telling you about.”
“Nice to meet you,” Brice said, extending his hand. Logan looked at it for a moment, then took it in his own. Strong, firm, yet gentle. And that look in Brice's eyes, was he feeling the same as Logan?
“Don't go shaking his hand, he might think he’s welcome around here,” Harry said with a laugh. The handshake broke, and Logan missed it instantly.
“Is there anything else you want, Harry? I’ve got a sister I want to go see.”
“In just a minute you can, but first you need to know a few things,” Harry said.
For the next few minutes Logan listened, but his eyes kept wandering over to Brice and soaking him in.
“You’re free to go now,” Harry said, breaking him from his thoughts. Don’t forget, me and Brice will be keeping an eye on you. Won’t we?” Harry said, looking over at Brice. Logan watched as the man seemed to break out of a daydream.
“I sure will,” he said, looking right at Logan. Inside, Logan started to melt as he wondered if Brice was feeling the same as him.
With a nod, Logan walked away and headed down to his sister’s store.