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Publisher of Erotic Romance
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Venus Cahill
Laird's Choice © 2012 Remmy Duchene
ISBN # 9781614954071
Attention Readers: This book uses US English.
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Dedication
For Tyler C
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Rolex: Rolex Watch USA, Inc.
Stetson: John B. Stetson Company
Guinness: Arthur Guinness, Son & Co.
Laird's
Choice
Remmy
Duchene
Prologue
"Hey Cowboy! You leaving us?"
Race McKade walked, chin up, eyes forward, down
the long corridor. It'd been so long since he'd walked down them without chains around his wrists and ankles. The piece of paper in his back pocket was burning a hole in it. It was the one thing that gave him permission to take his life back. It was a piece of paper he would hold on to for the rest of his life.
At the door, the guard stopped Race and patted his shoulder.
"Don't come back," the guard warned. "Shit, Race, you weren't supposed to be here in the first damn place.
Don't make it a habit."
Race nodded but said nothing. He walked by the
guard, stepped up to a window, and watched the man behind the bars. He was slightly balding and rummaging through a box. When he finally looked up, Race felt an overwhelming urge to shrug. Refraining, he waited for the man to give him the few things he'd been arrested with.
"One Rolex watch—gold." He shoved the watch through the hole in the bars and Race picked it up and strung it around his wrist. "One silver necklace with a gold S pendant and a shark's tooth pendant."
Race tossed the necklace over his head and inhaled deeply when the pendants hit his chest. He'd been away from it for so long. He brushed a finger over the S pendant and felt a closeness to it he hadn't felt in eight years. Taking a breath, he accepted a few other things, and with one final look around, he followed a couple of guards out the door.
They stopped and stood aside as the gates swung
open and he walked through. Stepping into freedom for the first time in eight years was like breathing again. He lifted his head, shook his hair out, and then closed his eyes. The sun on his face felt different—the way the wind brushed his skin was different. Everything about being free was different. The gates clanged shut behind him causing him to jerk around. The guards waved at him but Race only stared at them until they left. He was left once more, in the middle of nowhere, alone with the demons inside his head. He took a moment to press his eyes closed then stared up at the sky.
It was wonderful seeing the clouds move slowly across the heavens without bars in the way. The sky looked attainable to him then—almost like he could reach up and touch it.
"Race!"
Jerking his head around, he glanced over his
shoulder at the sudden tear through his thoughts but couldn't help the smile that danced about his lips. He extended his arms to the man and held on tightly. He pressed his eyes shut, stuck his face into Winston's neck, and inhaled. Clutching the back of the man's shirt, Race didn't want to step away, not yet. Winston must have known, for he said nothing. He simply held Race until Race took a breath and stepped back.
"Hey." Race smiled, brushing a knuckle over Winston's left cheek.
"Hey, yourself." Winston laughed, pulling Race back into
