Sentenced Read online

  Sentenced

  Copyright © LL Collins 2015

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design by

  Marisa Shor at Cover Me, Darling

  www.covermedarling.com

  Photography by Darren Birks

  www.darrenbirksphotography.com

  Models: Darren Birks and Rachel Morris

  Interior Design and formatting by

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  www.perfectlypublishable.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contact Author LL Collins

  www.llcollinsauthor.com

  [email protected]

  Twitter: @authorllcollins

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/llcollinsauthor

  To all the survivors that have risen above the challenges that life has handed you, and yet found the strength to achieve happiness. I hope you enjoy this story of redemption.

  WARNING

  This book contains substantial adult content and language. It also contains topics that may be disturbing to some readers. This includes topics of drug use, rape, and other significant violence. Read at your own risk.

  If you choose to read this book, please take all necessary precautions. Your reading device may go up in smoke, you may lose sleep, you may have the urge to throw things, and you may never want it to end. Johnny is a dirty talking, hardened character with a past none of us would want to dream of, but he’ll find his way into your heart and won’t let go.

  ~Author L.L. Collins

  Sentenced

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EPILOGUE

  Books by LL Collins

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Playlist

  The sound of wood splintering and a huge boom woke me from a dead sleep. It was so loud that I could feel my heart beating in my ears. Smoke filled the room and I coughed. What was happening? Where was I?

  Just as I remembered I was staying in Blue’s apartment tonight to prepare for our new shipment, I heard shouting. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. The sounds were muffled and muted, like I was underwater. My eyes widened and my body shook as I saw dark figures charging into the room, weapons held in front of them. Were we being robbed?

  I stood, my legs shaking as they got closer. It was then I understood what they were saying. “GET DOWN! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”

  Oh God. It was all over.

  I jerked into a sitting position, my chest heaving and sweat soaking the flimsy sheets. I looked around, hoping I hadn’t woken Buck, my cellmate. If I woke Buck with my nightmares, he’d become the nightmare. I blinked, seeing the light starting to filter into our minuscule window that was grimy and covered with bars.

  I hated that damn nightmare. No matter how long it had been since the day that my life ended, my subconscious still wouldn’t let it go. I had to relive it over, over, and over again every time I closed my eyes.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed and relieved myself in the shared toilet. I looked over my shoulder at Buck and tiptoed past him to the bars that kept us locked in here until seven in the morning. It was almost five thirty, according to the glowing red numbers of the digital clock on the wall down in the common area.

  Buck was not a nice guy. Not in the least. He was in here for rape and attempted murder. As much as I tried not to aggravate him, it didn’t help. He and I had had enough run-ins to last a lifetime, but one had been enough for me. I shuddered¸ willing the memory of his last assault out of my head. The guards were terrified of him, I thought, or maybe he had something on one of them. Whatever it was, they turned a blind eye to our cell activities.

  I pressed my head against the cool metal of the bars, closing my eyes. Today was day 399 in prison. I had so long to go in this hellhole, and I wasn’t sure I could make it. But I had to. For Julia. Everything I did, I did for her. She was the only person that had ever loved me unconditionally, and I’d show her the same. Even if she would never understand it.

  I stared at the ceiling, feeling the cool air from the air conditioner blowing on my face. I was cold, but I couldn’t move. I took in the softness of the bed, the way it curved around my large frame, cushioning my sore body like nothing had in a long time. My fingers touched the smooth fabric of the shorts I was wearing and the cotton of my shirt. The starched, rough feeling of the prison outfit was long gone. I lifted my hand and felt my short beard and hair that my sister had spent hours trimming and shaping. For the first time in two years, I was really, truly clean. I’d been in the shower for so long my skin had pruned. My stomach was full of fresh hamburgers and fries, and I actually felt a little sick, it having been so long since I’d eaten anything of any decency. Was I dreaming or was this real? Had I walked out of that prison today forever? Was I laying in a hotel room, a free man? Had my father been instrumental in freeing me?

  My sister and her fiancé were next door, and my parents were in the room on the other side of me. I was sandwiched between my family. I appreciated their understanding that I needed, craved, my own space after over two years of living in hell with Buck. I was convinced he was the devil reincarnated after the unmentionable things he had done to me and gotten away with it.

  I shook my head, forcing thoughts of that monster out of my head. I’d never have to see him again. I felt momentarily sorry for whoever was going to have to be his cellmate now. He was a lifer, and I wasn’t. I was free.

  I was thirty-four years old and for almost half of my life I’d been lost, searching for a dream that was never going to happen. I’d wasted so many years. Years that I could’ve had a career, a life. Regret should’ve been my middle name. I closed my eyes, feeling sleep take over. I should’ve felt absolute relief. Instead, panic was weaseling its way through my body. I had no idea who I was anymore, or where my life was going. I was physically free but still locked up in my own head. I didn’t think I’d ever be free from the bars around my heart, but at least I could now make my own decisions on what I did.

  Johnny

  Two years later

  “Piña colada, please.” I looked up just as the woman speaking leaned over the bar, her boobs hanging out of her top so far I almost saw nipple. I bit my cheek so I wouldn’t roll my eyes and tell her off. I wasn’t in the mood for this today. We were in a bar in fucking Denver, Colorado, not the Caribbean. A piña colada? And she was the type, with her fake blonde hair and even faker rack that would let me pull her into the back room and do her because she was in a ‘bad boy phase.’ She had no idea just how ‘bad’ this boy was, and I had no time for fake girls like her.

  I thought back to last night’s conquest—what had her n
ame been? Oh yeah, Zoey—and my dick twitched. Whatever her real name had been (I wasn’t dumb, she’d hesitated quite a bit before telling me ‘Zoey’), she’d sucked me until I’d blown and then rode me until I saw stars. Best part was, she’d left right after, and I’d passed out on my own. The way I wanted it. It was better for everyone, and the only way I allowed anyone in at all.

  I turned, getting out the goddamn blender to make her a piña colada. She better at least give me a good tip. I had to pay rent this week. Thinking about rent reminded me of my little sister Julia, and a pang of loneliness shot through me. She’d moved to Florida with her new husband Carter a few months ago, and now she had my niece, Calia. She was ten years younger than me but my best friend, my only friend, in the world. I missed her so much it hurt. She and Carter both kept telling me to move there and live with them, but I was sick of always relying on her. She had a family to worry about now and didn’t need her almost middle aged fuck up of a brother to weigh her down.

  And then there were my parents John, my namesake, and Aileen Gibbons, the people that had cut me off at the age of eighteen and now wanted to be part of my life again. I just couldn’t do it. After the life I’d had to endure since they kicked me out of the house, I wasn’t sure if I would ever want a relationship with them. The only redeeming thing either of them had done for me was get me the hell out of prison, but I still mostly credited my sister for that.

  I shuddered, forcing the thoughts of the two years I spent locked up back inside the box where they belonged. Even though I’d been out for two years, I couldn’t quite shake the memories of my time there.

  The beginning chords of tonight’s band made me start tapping my toe and nodding my head, the familiar urge to go up and join them bubbling to the surface. That was another part of myself I wouldn’t bring back. It was dead and gone. The closest I’d get to playing again would be writing songs and listening to good bands.

  I turned back to Spilling Tits, pasting on my flirtatious smile. The only part of this job I enjoyed was the live music and finding new talent. I’d been shoved into that role quickly after getting hired, and it was as fulfilling as my life could get these days. This was the only place that didn’t give a shit that I was an ex-con with a record.

  ST winked at me and wrapped her ruby red lips around the straw, making a big production of sucking it, her eyes locked on mine for a reaction. I smirked, knowing I couldn’t care less about what she was offering, but hell, a tip was a tip.

  Her eyes raked up and down my body while she worked her tongue around the straw. I crossed my arms, making her eyes widen as my muscles flexed. God, this was just too easy.

  “Do you want a tab, sweet thing, or to cash out now?” I leaned just a little closer to her and watched her pupils dilate and her nose flare with desire.

  She bent forward, and this time I did see nipple. “That depends,” she said. “When are you off?”

  I chuckled. “Not for a long time. I’m closing the place tonight.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I’ll start a tab and hope I’m still around when you get off. I’d love to show you a good time.”

  She slid her credit card across the bar and when I went to grab it, she took it back, putting it down her cleavage. “Come and get it, hottie. You know you want me.”

  Fuck me. I was used to forward women, but this one took the cake. Even if seeing her tits on display had me interested in the southern region, I had no desire to give her what she wanted. I could tell she was high maintenance. She wouldn’t be satisfied with one roll in the sheets and being dismissed. She’d want something from me, and that was a no. Hell fucking no.

  I slid my fingers into her cleavage and retrieved the credit card, giving her the ‘smoldering’ look that I knew from experience worked in dampening panties.

  “Oh, you’re so baaaad,” she said, putting her hand over her breasts where mine had just been. “What’s your name, honey? I’m gonna be screaming it in a few hours. I’m Lila.”

  I turned and slid the card into the computer, taking my time since I knew she was checking out my ass. This was a fun game I liked to play, and it got me good tips. I wasn’t serious and never took a girl home from the bar. Ever. Now the band? That was a totally different story.

  I slid the card back across the counter at her and leaned over so she could hear me over the now pounding music. I liked their sound, and I wanted her to go away so I could listen. “I’m Johnny. But I don’t think you want me, sweetheart.”

  Her big eyes blinked up at me. “Why’s that? You’re hot as hell, and I’m willing, so what’s the issue?”

  “The ‘issue’ is—” I started.

  “That he swings the other way,” Kirk, a fellow bartender, interrupted. Lila’s eyes got wide, and her mouth made a little O as she registered his words. Kirk put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him to prove his point. The funniest part about it all was Kirk was just as big and muscular as me and had any number of ladies coming here to see him daily. Neither one of us batted for the other team. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I’d just rather not see any other dick but my own.

  She slid off the barstool. “What a waste,” she said before stomping off to the dance floor, flinging her hair behind her. She sure as shit took that piña colada with her, though. I looked down at the receipt she’d scrawled on. And she didn’t leave a fucking red cent for a tip. Figured.

  I barely contained my laughter until she walked away. I shoved Kirk off of me and bent over, holding my stomach. “That was a new one,” I choked out, “but thanks for saving me, man.”

  Kirk shrugged. “Well, that skank could give you a disease just standing across from you. She’s constantly trying to take someone home. I’m surprised it took her this long to attach herself to you. Speaking of, how was your night last night?” He lifted his eyebrows in question.

  “My night?”

  Kirk looked offended. “Don’t play stupid. You totally got laid last night.”

  “What?” As cool as Kirk was, I sure as shit didn’t want to talk to him like a goddamn chick.

  “She was the guitar player from the band we had here last night, right? I’m not stupid. I saw you eye-fucking her across the room all night long. I thought you had a no-bar hookup rule?”

  “I do,” I said, wiping the counter in front of me. “But she wasn’t from the bar, she was from the band. That’s not the same. Plus, she was hot as hell and was moving on, so I knew she didn’t want a commitment.” I wouldn’t tell him that her being in the band was exactly what had attracted me to her. The rest had just been a bonus. “Last night was the only night she was here. It was perfect. And, did you just say eye-fucking?”

  “Yeah, I did because that’s what you were doing. So?” Kirk wiggled his eyebrows at me. “She was stacked and hot, so how was she?”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him. “I don’t fuck and tell. I’m not your fucking girlfriend. If you want a story about pussy, go watch some porn. You need to get laid, bro.”

  He watched me for a second to see if I was serious and then shook his head in laughter. “You’re too much, man. I need your talent.”

  I scoffed. Kirk acted like he never got any, and I knew that wasn’t the truth. “No, you don’t. You just need to be an asshole, and they come in droves. Don’t tell me you don’t get your pick of women, Kirk. You’re a bartender with tattoos and muscles. That’s all they want. The whole ‘bad boy’ vibe.”

  “I get my share,” he said, puffing out his chest. “Just seems that since you’ve been here they all go apeshit over you.”

  “Well I don’t fucking want them, so go ahead and take your pick, Romeo. This place is alllll yours.”

  I tossed the empty beer bottle on the table and grabbed another slice of pizza. There was an action movie on the television, but I wasn’t watching it. I was lost in my thoughts, trying to unwind after another late night at the bar. It was closing in on daybreak, and I hadn’t been asleep yet.

 
; I picked up my phone and looked at the time. In Florida, it was two hours ahead of Colorado. Julia would be up now. I needed just to hear her voice. I’d been thinking all night about taking her up on her offer and I needed to run it by her. The fact that I could call her at any time now was still amazing to me. Even though it had been two years that I’d been free, there were still some things that I couldn’t get over. Like I could live by myself. I could go to the bathroom without an audience. I could have whatever food I wanted. And I could call Julia whenever I wanted.

  “Johnny? Goodness, it’s early for you!” I smiled, closing my eyes as her voice warmed me from the inside out. “Are you okay?”

  “Hey, pipsqueak,” I said, running my hand over my three-day old scruff. It made me smile, remembering when I’d gotten out of prison, and she had looked in horror at my long beard. “I just miss you. How’s my little niece?”

  As if on cue, I heard a small noise and then a cry in the background. “Do you hear your Uncle Johnny? He says good morning, little princess.” Julia paused. “She’s just nursing, and I’m getting ready to go to the office with her for a few hours. Carter and I have a meeting for a new project. You doing okay?”

  Julia always could read me, no matter what. “I’m good, Jules. Just working and chillin’.”

  “You know you could be here with us, Johnny. Then you wouldn’t have to call and ask me how Calia is doing.”

  “I know. That’s actually why I’m calling. I’ve been thinking. I’d like to come visit, stay for a little bit and help you with Calia. Would that be okay?”

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Johnny? You’d tell me if something happened, right?”

  “Nothing happened, Jules. I promise.”

  “Okay. Of course we want you here, Johnny. Calia would love to spend some time with you, and we’d love to have you for as long as you want to be here. When are you coming?”

  “I was thinking next week. I’ll check flights today. Plus, I have to get coverage at the bar and talk to Al.” Al was my parole officer, a.k.a., my babysitter.