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Glen Washington celebrated his ninetieth day free from prison with an ice cream treat—and a blonde. She had been more delectable than the frozen treat. Glen walked from the place he'd left her—he didn't have much money, and gas was far more expensive than it had been eight years ago when he'd last driven the old truck.
It didn't matter. He felt free for the first time in a long, long time. After years of limited time in the sun, he enjoyed it. Enjoyed the heat pressing into his body, reminding him that never would he be in a cold, sterile prison again.
He never intended to get caught again.
It had been a random assault charge that had taken away his freedom before. A man in a bar had taken exception to the way Glen had looked at his wife. The ensuing fight had ended up with that man having a broken face and Glen facing ten years.
All because of previous charges from his youth. Damn the fates that had had three damned cops in the bar that night.
The fates and the damned TSP. He'd always despised the TSP, corrupt bastards that they were.
Glen hadn't been important enough to get the ones who could be bought. Or important enough to know how to find them. Now he embraced his almost complete invisibility. He learned in prison to use that anonymity to his own advantage.
Glen didn’t plan to forget those hard-learned lessons.
He'd been brought down by a deputy twenty years his junior and determined to make the charges stick. Eight years of his life had been lost because of that deputy.
He was only fifty. Still plenty of time for him to live his life. To enjoy it.
Like had last night.
He'd always enjoyed blondes. He was capable of getting them when he wanted, too. He wasn't a bad-looking man, and looked a bit younger than he was. But it was the way he talked to the women he wanted that made a difference.
Plus, he didn't know how to take no for an answer.
He smiled, remembering last night's blond.
She had been worth eight years of anticipation. He just hoped she'd enjoyed it as much as he had.