When the pat down was complete more than one boy had tears in their eyes. They were all made to line up shoulder to shoulder while the prisoners stood back glaring at them, pacing like caged animals and anxious to do something bad…
Scotty's eyes fell on to his father. He hadn't seen the man in years. He'd been a little kid the last time Juan Carlos had been a free man. Scotty didn't think he looked much different although his prison issued jeans and t-shirt was far from the fashionable pimp that he'd been ten years ago.
His father was of average height and weight and yet his presence seemed big. Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you. His eyes were brown—nearly black, fathomless orbs beneath a straight brow that lead down to a straight nose. He wore a heavy mu
