A FEW WEEKS AFTER Kevin’s desperate letter had gone its way, his former lawyer, Dominski, deigned to make an appearance. “Mr. Green, I’ve got good news.”
Kevin’s heart thumped. “What do you mean?”
“One of the officers redid the evidence room and found the missing Callaway DNA samples lodged between two of the cabinets. I might be able to help you.”
This couldn’t be happening. He hated to get his hopes up. It would be doubly hard if he were disappointed. “Just get me out of here.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Dominski snapped open his briefcase and extracted a long yellow pad with green lines. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
This time, Kevin told him the real truth. When he was through, the public defender said, “If you’d told me that sooner, you might’ve saved yourself some grief. Anyway, there’s still hope. I’ll send an evidence technician around for DNA samples.” Dominski stood up. “Hang in there, good buddy.”
Kevin smiled wryly. They hadn’t seen each other in eight years and Dominski called him buddy. Hell, if the public defender pulled off what he’d hinted at, they’d be friends for life.
After Dominski left, Kevin’s thoughts alternated between excitement and fear. He’d been let down before. What if the appeal didn’t work?
He dreamed Technicolor visions of the outside world where he sauntered around the block, smiling and whistling, a free man.
He had no peace after that. While he carried out the daily grind, he clung to the thin thread of hope dangling in front of him.
A month after the meeting, he stood in the kitchen, grasping a slippery pot, trying to concentrate on scrubbing. His mind resisted, flying off on tangents. What would freedom mean?
He had to get out. So much was waiting for him. According to Brad, the security scam ran high. If Kevin joined him, he’d be sitting pretty. Freedom had to happen. But what if it didn’t?
At the thought, the pot slipped through his fingers and clanged onto the cement floor.
Steve Summers drew his head out of the oven he’d been cleaning and gave Kevin a searching look. “You’re acting strange, boy.”
Kevin glanced carefully around, then dropped his voice. “I might get out,” he said, letting the forbidden hope creep into his voice. “They found the missing DNA. It might spring me.”
A flicker of regret flashed in Steve’s eyes, but he was kind enough to say, “Man, you don’t know how lucky you are.”
“Don’t I know it. That is, if all goes well.”
Kevin tackled the pot again, but the grease remained embedded. He ignored the buildup, rinsed the pot and placed it on the steel counter.
“I’d like to take you along, good friend,” he said, patting Steve on the back.
“Get those slimy hands off me,” Steve said, laughing good-naturedly.
Kevin felt a rush of pity. It was a damn shame the poor fucker couldn’t get out. One lousy mistake and the guy’s life was ruined.
He’d made a mistake, too. The consequences had been costly. Through a bizarre chain of events, he’d lost a good portion of his youth. He bit his lip. Sure, he’d told Mary Alice he’d see her dead before she went out with anyone else. People said things like that when they were mad. It had been his rotten luck Callaway had picked up on the exchange and broadcast it to the court room.
Bearing down on another scummy pot, Kevin reveled in the familiar rage. He’d been victimized because everyone believed he wasn’t good enough for Mary Alice. Only he knew what she’d actually thought. That got his mind going on another tangent. He hadn’t had a piece of ass in years. He couldn’t exactly remember how it felt, but couldn’t wait to find out.
What if, heaven forbid, he couldn’t perform? Would his dick hang there as limp as the wet towel he was gripping? Sweat broke on his forehead. He angrily swiped at it with the back of his hand.
When he got back to the rec room, he sat by the TV and devoured the sight of Mighty Woman. Those breasts were enormous. As he watched, he grew hard as cement. He needed a fuck bad. He hadn’t been this horny since he’d been put in the slammer.
The jeering of the other inmates distracted him. They’d switched the channel and were hamming it up over a corny movie. A smarmy woman was reeling in a dopey man who didn’t have a clue as to what she was up to. He watched curiously as the couple professed their undying love for each other. It was bull, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. They looked so happy.
Then the wife got knocked up and the sappy husband couldn’t think straight. Kevin snorted. What puke. Such a pain to drag around a screaming monster.
Something slipped into his mind, bringing him up short. His old lady had copped out, leaving behind her a screaming brat named Kevin. How had his old man coped?
A rush of gratitude spilled out before he could stop it. His eyelids grew wet. Derek had to love him.