Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I spent some time in the infirmary for that stunt, but I proved myself.
No one messed with Savage after that.
Growing up on a beef ranch makes you strong, and Austin Bellamy was a father who pushed all of us, even my sisters, to our limits and beyond.
I have to hand it to the old man. Those particular virtues came in handy on the inside.
“So you served time for involuntary manslaughter.” Savannah reads from her file.
“Yes.”
She looks up at me. “You’re not going to tell me you’re innocent?”
“Would you believe me?”
“Probably not, but that’s the first thing almost every parolee tells me. That he was wrongfully accused or framed.”
The truth is that I am innocent, but what does it matter at this point? I chose to plead guilty, and because I’m a Bellamy, I got the book thrown at me. The system decided to make an example of me. My old man and my grandmother tried to pay off every judge in the Lone Star State, but they all refused.
So I went to prison, and no one will know the truth. I made a promise long ago, and I aim to keep it.
“I’m not here to prove my innocence to you, Savannah,” I say. “I know in my heart who I am and what I’m guilty of. I’ll be honest. I didn’t commit the crime I was incarcerated for, but I’m hardly innocent.”
No truer words.
She inhales. “So you’ll be doing ranch work. Are you paid?”
“I am.”
“And can your father attest to this?”
“Why does he need to? I’m paid by having all my needs met and an eight-figure trust fund. I live off the proceeds.”
She nods. “I see.”
“But there aren’t any free rides as a son of Austin Bellamy. I work for the ranch.”
“I’ll need documentation from your father or someone who handles payroll.”
“Fine.”
I’m not on payroll, not in the way she means, but I’ll find something to satisfy her and her rules. My stomach lets out a growl.
She eyes me. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine. Just missed breakfast, is all.”
“There are some doughnuts in the breakroom. I’ll be happy to get one for you. And some coffee.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”
She nods. “Now,” she says, “about counseling.”
Right. Michael Barrett said I’d require counseling, something about learning to live on the outside again.
None of these people understand my circumstances, but I’ll do what I have to do to stay out.
Raven needs me.
“Fine. Counseling. Just tell me when and where.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re certainly being cooperative.”
“Aren’t most people?”
“Not when it comes to counseling. Now, about the weekly drug tests.”
“I don’t use drugs, and you saw my last drink of alcohol for a while.”
“Still, it’s a requirement of—”
“Of my parole, yes. I get it. Tell me where to show up, and I’ll pee in a cup.”
“All that information will be in the folder you’ll leave here with. If you miss an appointment, you’re considered in violation of your parole, so if something comes up and you can’t make it, be sure to call me right away.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”
“I’ll give you the number to call for your mandatory counseling sessions as well.”
“Got it.”
“And Mr. Bellamy?”
“Falcon.”
“Falcon.” She blushes. “I’m here to help you. So feel free to call me anytime.”
“You bet I will, Savannah. You bet I will.” I rise. “Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I have somewhere to be.”
7
SAVANNAH
Where?
I want to ask where so badly.
But that would be unprofessional. As attracted as I am to Falcon Bellamy, I can’t get involved. I’m his freaking parole officer.
Besides…he wasn’t interested last night.
He let me go.
I offered myself up on a silver platter, and he let me go.
Just as well. Back in Austin, I’d go to Jonathan and ask to be removed from the case for a potential conflict of interest. Jonathan was always good about that. He didn’t ask a lot of questions. About anything, which also served me well.
I can’t ask to have Falcon reassigned, however. I hardly know Bridget, and this is my first day on the job. Not a good look to go to her and tell her I made out with one of my parolees last night.
Yeah, not happening.
I can’t help watching Falcon walk out of my cubicle. His ass is delectable in his jeans. No lowriding for Falcon Bellamy.
I close my eyes and will my pulse to stop racing. Or try to, anyway. It seems like it’s on overdrive at the moment.
I don’t have another appointment until after lunch, which is in thirty minutes. I take the time to write up summaries of my meetings with Falcon and Rudy, and then I grab my purse for my lunch break. I figure I’ll just grab something from the machines in the break room, but Bridget waylays me.
“Would you like to go to lunch?” she asks.
“Uh…yeah. Sure. Thanks for the invite.”
She smiles. “No problem. I like to take the new people out, answer any questions when we’re not so swamped, which is all the time. Lunch hour is sacred around here.”