My brother’s phone rang, and a moment later, Kelton’s voice was blaring through the speakers. “Well?”
“He’s out,” Dillon practically snapped at his best bud.
“Whoa! What’s got into you?” Kelton asked.
“Duke,” I said.
“Speaking of your brother,” Kelton started.
Dillon and I exchanged a surprised look.
“It seems the FBI was instrumental in your speedy release, Denim. The bad news is they’re acting as your parole officers for now. You’ll be checking in with them rather than a court-appointed one.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’ve got to be kidding. That means they’ll do everything they can to fuck with me until I give in and narc on Duke.” They would probably threaten to send me back to prison if I didn’t do what they wanted. After all, if they’d convinced the parole board to let me out, then they could sure as fuck come up with an excuse to throw me back in.
Dillon’s face was turning a dark shade of red. “But wouldn’t Denim have gotten parole anyway? He checked all the boxes for an early release.”
A female voice interrupted Kelton. “Sir, here’s the file you wanted.”
Jade. Sweet, sweet Jade.Her voice had always taken me to a special place where the world was perfect and kind, and violence didn’t exist.
The line was quiet for a beat until Kelton cleared his throat. “If Denim hadn’t gotten into a fight right before his hearing, then sure. But the board was ready to deny him parole.”
I ran a finger over my eye where Costa had punched me. By the time of my parole hearing, I’d had the stitches removed. My appearance had barely shown signs of a fight. “I told them I was attacked.” I hadn’t gotten disciplined, but the warden had still been required to make a note in my record. “I told them they could check with the warden.”
“You’re out,” Kelton said. “Do everything in your power to stay out. As much as I like billable hours, I care about my clients.”
“Can the Feds send me back to prison?”
“As long as you don’t violate your parole, you’ll be good.”
Dillon’s knuckles were still white as he clenched the steering wheel. “But the Feds will fuck with Denim, though. Won’t they?”
“They’ll throw down some threats.” Kelton’s tone was even as though he’d told clients that very statement a million times. “If they do, I want to know about it. For now, one of the agents will be in touch. Whatever you do, please don’t tell Duke about the Feds. They’ll slap you for intervening in an ongoing investigation. That, my friend, will get you arrested.”
Fuuuck!
“So Denim is clear to see Duke?” Dillon asked.
Kelton sighed. “I don’t think there’s any way around not seeing him.”
“I forgot to tell you something during our parole-prep meeting,” I piped in. Jade had jumbled my mind that day. “The Feds think Duke was at Alvarez’s apartment the night of his murder.”
“It could be a ploy to get you to do their dirty work.” Kelton’s voice boomed in the car. “If you talk to your brother, do not—I repeat, do not—bring up Alvarez and your suspicions. You could cause a chain reaction where both of you could end up in cuffs. Heed my advice. For now, enjoy your first day of freedom, Denim. We’ll be in touch.” Then the line went dead.
I stared out the passenger window, seething. The happiness I had felt when I’d walked out of the prison gates evaporated. I wasn’t even in Boston yet, nor had I had my first beer, and my world had gone to shit. I could get onboard with checking in with a parole officer, but not the FBI.
We rode in silence, not saying a word to one another.
I didn’t want to start on some self-pity trip, but it was hard not to feel sorry for myself. Someone had set me up. I’d spent my prime years in prison for a murder I didn’t commit, and I’d learned Duke could be involved in the murder, and now I had to answer to the Feds.
“I want to throttle Duke.” Dillon’s deep tone zapped my pity party.
“Can we talk about something else?” I was going to heed Kelton’s advice and enjoy my first day of freedom. Duke could wait. The Feds could wait.
Dillon rested his arm on the console, relaxing back in his seat. “Maggie and I finally set a date for our wedding.”
“That’s great, bro.” I hoped I sounded happy and excited. Dillon deserved nothing but me showing him love and support. Yet my stomach was still knotted so tightly, I suspected it would take more than happy words to loosen it.
