Chapter 1
Free. I’m finally free.
Chase Evans walked out of the Southern Nevada Correctional Facility and into the chilly early-October sunshine. Funny how freedom felt an awful lot like being alone. Not that he’d expected anyone to show up for his release. Especially not Shane. Hell, his brother hadn’t visited him for months now and their last phone conversation had been over a week ago. Still, things were a universe away from when he’d entered the prison. Half a decade behind bars did that to a guy.
Not that he regretted his decision. Not for a second.
Collar turned up on his frayed denim jacket, Chase shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. With nothing better to do inside, he’d worked out like a fiend, gotten into the best physical shape of his life, even splurged on a few tats to go with his tough, new attitude.
If people were going to assume he was some kind of badass, he figured he might as well look the part. Yesterday, he’d had his thick brown hair buzz cut super short at the prison barber shop by a dude serving twenty years for grand larceny. He’d skipped the shave though. Stubble felt right these days. Made him look less fresh faced kid and more hardened criminal. Not to mention the persona had saved him from a severe beating more than once behind bars.
He kept his head down and his eyes lowered as he strode across the asphalt tarmac toward the bus hut in the distance. With luck, he wouldn’t have to wait long for the next shuttle back to Las Vegas.
Sin City. The sin part was certainly right.
He’d paid dearly for those sins, even if they were someone else’s.
The dry desert wind whistled loud in his ears, and he hunched farther down into his jacket. Now that he was out, he had to find some way to support himself, get a new place to live, maybe a car or a motorcycle once he’d earned enough cash. Only trouble was, not too many people wanted to hire ex-cons, and his brief stint of college education wouldn’t help him much now.
Honestly. Who the heck wanted to pay an attorney who couldn’t even keep themselves out of the slammer?
No one. That’s who.
It figured his dreams of practicing law had fizzled, just like the rest of his shitfest of a past. The sacrifices he’d made might’ve been noble, but they sure hadn’t done him or—if his younger brother’s recent attitude was any indication—anyone else any good.
“You look like you could use a ride.”
Chase froze. The deep male voice came from his left. His gut clenched at the familiar tone, cool and slightly sarcastic. Blake Rockford. The last person he’d expected to see again.
Last he knew, the guy had retired from the Las Vegas Police Department and started his own security firm. He and Blake had worked some part-time security jobs together before Chase had gone off to law school and Blake had joined the force. Chase had even been willing to take a bullet for the guy once upon a time during a botched attempted robbery.
Too bad his hero days were long gone now.
He glanced up and saw Blake looking as GQ as he remembered, in his crisp suit and mirrored aviator shades. Not even the steady breeze dared ruffle the guy’s short, dark hair. Blake looked like he’d walked off of some espionage movie set.
Chase himself? Not so much.
Listless and exhausted beyond his thirty-five years, Chase sighed and shook his head, his voice low and monotone. “What do you want, man?”
“I want to talk to you.” Blake pushed away from the side of a navy blue sedan and crossed his arms. “I have a job proposition for you.”
“A job?” Chase scoffed. “What kind of a job could you possibly have for me?”
“You know I run my own security firm now, right?”
Chase didn’t answer, just stared at the man who used to be his closest friend, the man he hadn’t spoken a word to since he’d entered prison. Not that Blake hadn’t tried to contact him. But Chase couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
The guy reminded him of everything he’d lost.
“I want you to come work for me,” Blake said, slipping off the sunglasses so Chase could see the sincerity in his piercing blue eyes. That stare—nicknamed The Hurt—had caused many a woman to swoon back in the day, and many a crook to soil his shorts.
“Me?” He snorted. “You must be nuts, man. In case you haven’t noticed, I just walked out of a goddamned prison. I’m hardly security firm material.”
“You’re wrong, Chase. You’re exactly what I need.”
“For what? A janitor? No thanks.” He straightened to his full six-foot height and squared his shoulders, making himself as large and intimidating as possible. Another useful tool he’d learned inside. “I’m not interested.”
Blake didn’t blink an eye. “Cut the poor-me attitude, all right? You got a shitty deal in that trial, no doubt about it. But now you’re back in the real world and you deserve another chance, Chase. I’m here to offer you one. I need a bodyguard for the Bryants, the owners of the Lucky Ace Hotel and Casino. All my other guys are out on assignment and I need someone I can trust. Are you in?”
“What makes you think you can trust me?”
“Other than the fact you saved my life?”
“Whatever, man,” Chase said, shrugging off the accolade. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Considering I had the barrel of a Glock 9mm two inches from my nose before you blindsided the guy, knocked the weapon from his hand, and took a bullet in the process, I’d say it was exactly like that.” Blake stepped closer, several inches taller and broader than Chase despite his added muscle. “Jeez. Lawyers. You want to stand here and argue about the past or get on with your future?”
The reminder of his previous career aspirations stung. He’d loved the law and had envisioned a future for himself defending the underprivileged. Fighting the good fight, like some kind of cape-wearing, Justice League, court-appointed superhero.
God. What a naïve bastard I was.
Time and circumstances and even his own family had taken his dreams and run them through the shredder. No Hallmark moments there. Not like the Rockfords. He remembered spending time with Blake and his large, happy clan when they’d worked together. He’d thought families like that only existed in movies or fairy stories for kids, but no. The Rockfords were the real thing—genuine, gigantic, and generous to a fault. They looked out for one another, took care of one another.
His chest ached with want for what he’d never had, what he’d never have now that he’d screwed up his life. Sighing, he shifted his feet and rubbed a hand over his face.
Dammit.
It wasn’t like opportunities were knocking down his door, but this felt too easy.
Too right, if he was honest. These days, right scared him. Right had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place. He met Blake’s steely gaze direct. “What about my criminal record? Most folks aren’t keen on having an ex-con guard anything valuable, especially their lives.”
“The Bryants trust my judgment. If I vouch for you, they won’t question it.” Blake arched one dark brow and gave Chase a visual once-over. “What? You got a better offer waiting?”
No. I got zero offers waiting.
When Chase didn’t answer, Blake continued. “Listen, I’ll pay you good money, which you can use to save up for a place of your own. Can’t have you sleeping on my sofa forever.”
“Your sofa?” Chase crossed his arms. “I’m staying at a halfway house. It’s part of my parole.”
“Not anymore.” Blake stared Chase down. “I talked to your parole officer and worked it out. If you take my job offer, you can stay with me until you find your own place.”
Chase did his best not to squirm under the intense scrutiny. Blake had been a good friend once, and people weren’t exactly lining up to hire him. How the guy would be as a boss, he didn’t know, but it couldn’t be any worse than some of those sadistic asshole prison guards.
Besides, it wouldn’t be forever. If he didn’t like it, he could always move into the halfway house and find other employment. Not to mention the fact he didn’t have to hide his background from Blake. The guy knew almost all there was to know about him—the good, the bad, and the downright heinous.
“Fine.” Chase exhaled and stared out into the endless desert landscape surrounding them. Nothing but dust and cactus and desolation as far as the eye could see. Beneath the blazing sun, the asphalt had warmed quickly and now shimmered with heat. “When do I start?”
“Now.” Blake grinned, all white teeth and confidence. He jabbed a button on his key fob and the locks on the car doors clicked open. “Get in. I’ll give you the details on the way to my house.”
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