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I had a grin on my face, pretending to listen to the men around me. But my eyes were on the man standing by the fence with five men who were a lot like him. Junkies. Men that were in here because they had let drugs rule their lives. Some of them were necessarily bad people, but the one who I was looking at right then was possibly as bad as they came in my eyes. I let my hate power through me as I watched the man scratch at his arms.
Ten minutes later I was up, walking toward the gates with everyone else as we went inside for lunch. It was time, and by the end of the day I would know if I was going to be spending the rest of my life in San Quentin or not.
One of my men stood close as I eased my way through the crowd toward my prey. A man in front of me glanced up and nodded before b.u.mping into the guy to his left. A grunt filled the air and I moved fast, punching the guy in the lower back three times. Startled, the guy turned, pain and rage filling his eyes. I let him hit me over and over again before fighting back. I didn't let up, and the men around me gave me plenty of time to do the damage that needed doing before the guards could get to me.
A sharp pain sliced through my side and my grin was pure evil as I took the shank that someone had so generously supplied-and had cost me three huge favors that I'd been saving up for Bash and my MC brothers. Pulling the shank free, I had less than a second to see that it was a plastic comb melted down to a sharp point. In the next minute the shank disappeared into the guy's chest and I was rewarded with a gurgle as blood quickly filled his lungs.
I pulled back enough to see his face. "For Lucy." The words were just a whisper but I saw the startled look in the man's eyes as he sucked in his last breath.
I didn't get lunch that day. Instead I was in the infirmary all day. With Vince Grady p.r.o.nounced dead, my story along with those of the men around me at the time had to be taken into account for what had happened. Self-defense. It was the story I was sticking to, and with the six st.i.tches needed to close up the wound on my side where someone had stabbed me to make it look like Grady had shanked me, it was a plausible story.
By dinnertime the guards and warden let me know that it was being written up as self-defense and I went back to my cell hoping that Felicity's boss could sleep at night now.
Acknowledgements.
As always I want to thank my amazing team of BETA readers. Mellie, Jennie, Felicity, Nikki, and Melanie. I couldn't get through a book without their guidance and helpful input. They help make each book that much more wonderful and the friendship I have made with these five women has become ones that I value sincerely.
Thank you to my husband, Mike Browning, for standing behind me and putting up with me through all the mood swings that comes with writing a book. You are my rock and I don't know how to get through the day without you.
More by Terri Anne Browning.
The Rocker... Series.
The Rocker That Holds Me.
The Rocker That Savors Me.
The Rocker That Needs Me.
The Rocker that Loves Me.
The Rocker That Holds Her.
Angel's Halo MC Series.
Angel's Halo.
Coming Soon.
The Rocker Who Wants Me.
end.