7
The work at the docks filled out his flat wallet. His cellmate was right. Big Kyle had connections and was always looking for a pair of work-roughened hands and strong arms. Being asked to unload the boxes onto the private yacht was an easy job. And the extra cash he made by letting a stranger look around didn’t hurt. The restaurant job made his parole legit. As a requirement for staying in the halfway house, he saved enough money to get his own place. It wasn’t big, or new, or very clean, but it was his. For now. The extra hours on the docks, and his regular schedule in the kitchen, meant he didn’t have much time to watch her. And he was tired. Too tired to fight the suggestions in his head.
He should have stayed, but they told him to leave. If he had waited for her on the bench like
