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Glen read the newspaper. Old-fashioned of him, he knew, but he didn’t care. Weeks-old newspapers were sometimes all a man could find in a prison to read that hadn’t already been read. Prison libraries weren’t exactly filled with the latest best sellers.
He’d learned about what had happened to Clay Addy’s deputy and some FBI woman that way. He’d even put it together with the idiot who’d shared Glen’s cell for more than two years, eight years ago.
Louis Moore hadn’t changed much in those years since.
But the knowledge that stupid ol’ Lou had been responsible for almost killing his own daughter had been rich. The guy was such a pussy. Any little scuffle on their block and Lou was the first one to turn tail and run.
Unless he was beating up on guys smaller than him, that was.
Guys like Glen.
If it hadn’t been for that badass Pete Holte and his whiny little prick ass-buddy Jennson, Lou would have been killed his first week on the block.
He waited.
The woman he’d met at the bar on Boethe Street a few nights ago was meeting him for a second date later that night.
Glen had always been a patient man. He’d spent eight years waiting for his freedom, after all. Toeing the line, behaving himself. Becoming the prison librarian, even. Making himself into a good little boy for the warden.
It had paid off in his favor, gaining him his freedom two and a half years earlier than expected.
Patience that was the name of the game.
Finally, the time came. He showered carefully. He liked a clean body before dates. It made him feel confident. Prepared. Glen shaved.
He was blessed with a boyishly young-looking face. The woman he was dating tonight was still in her thirties. He suspected she thought he was younger than he was.
She didn’t have the greatest teeth. He also suspected his sweet little blonde liked meth a bit too much. But it didn’t matter.
He didn’t anticipate her being a part of his life for very long.
Glen combed his hair and then grabbed his bag. It was time.
He felt like a brand-new man.