Chapter 4: Corliss

Kirk looked at the floor of the bay for a long time.

Then he looked at me.

"Reece," he said.

I didn't understand the word.

"Chadwick Reece was my half-brother. Same father, different mothers. I use my mother's name."

The wrench was still in my hand.

I put it down on the hood, because I didn't trust myself with it.

"You sat in my courtroom," I said.

"Every day. The back row, left side."

"Did you wave?"

"I didn't do anything. I wasn't in a state to."

I crossed the bay and took two fistfuls of his shirt.

He let me.

He was a head taller than me and a lot heavier.

He let me put him against the side of the lifted truck.

His hands stayed open at his sides.

"Five years," I said. "Five years, and you stood at the gate with my coat."

"Yes."

"You drove me to your house. You sat outside my door."

"Yes."

"Was this a game? Did you want to see how I'd look when they threw me out?"

"No."

"Then what was it?"

"I'm not allowed to ask why," Kirk said quietly. "And neither are you. That was the rule."

I almost hit him.

I wanted to, with my whole arm. My knuckles were white in his shirt.

"I broke the rule," I said. "Tell me."

His jaw worked.

"I wrote three letters to your parole board," he said.

"When?"

"Year three, year four, last year. Each one said you were dangerous and had shown no remorse."

Keep reading free with an account. Start Revenge of the Scapegoat Heiress from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.