Vegas Virgin (Nevada Bad Boys 1)

The city appeared before me when we exited the airport. All the bright lights, the artificial colors, and the dulling of nature was just as awful as I remembered. And the air smelled like shit. It didn’t get any better in the six years I was away, and I certainly didn’t miss it for a moment. I caught a glimpse of a television screen and saw my ex-wife for the first time in years, talking to a reporter outside of the home we used to share together.

She was standing there with my replacement at her side. At least she did stay with him; it was the same guy I attacked. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but she seemed to be angry. She looked old with the shimmer of youth gone from her eyes. I didn’t see a single trace of the woman I once loved behind her hollow expression.

Damn. Life hasn’t been kind to you.

The caption at the bottom of the screen made it seem like a nationwide manhunt had been going on for six years, but I knew the truth. I was a forgotten man before I saved Heather. My actions had brought me back into the spotlight and it was the only reason they gave a damn about me or the charges that had been pending. I was basically hiding in plain sight, using my real name, and relying on the fact they didn’t care enough to look to stay out of jail.

Maybe that was a mistake.

After spending the night in a jail cell surrounded by drunks, I was taken to a small room to meet my lawyer. I hadn’t hired a lawyer, but I assumed someone had sent a public defender my way since I didn’t bother trying to get one. I could have afforded it for sure, but there didn’t seem to be a reason since it was pretty damn clear I was guilty.

“Mr. Black.” He entered the room. “I’m Amos Livingston.”

“Just let me plead guilty and get this over with.” I shook my head. “I’ve had enough of this circus.”

“Plead guilty?” He sat down at the table. “You obviously have no idea who I am.”

“You’re Amos Livingston.” I looked at him. “You just told me that.”

“Yes, I’m Amos Livingston...of Westbrook, Westbrook, and Livingston.” He opened his briefcase.

“Westbrook?” I leaned towards the table.

“Do you really think Heather’s father is going to let the man who saved his daughter serve a fucking day in prison? These motherfuckers are lucky he didn’t come out here himself and just start busting skulls.” He chuckled. “Legally, I’m not licensed to practice here, but that won’t be an issue because you’re about to walk out of here a free man.”

“How?” I narrowed my eyes at him, still a bit suspicious.

“These charges?” He threw papers on the table. “They’re all bullshit. You could drive a truck through their case. I know you haven’t been watching the news, but the people fucking love you. Women are praying they get lost in the snow just so you can save them. Men are wishing they had the balls to do what you did to that motherfucker.”

“I was young.” I shook my head. “It was stupid.”

“It was the heat of the moment. You were scorned. Who gives a shit, it’s been six years? Obviously, nobody gave a damn about finding you or they would have. You were living on land you owned before the incident happened, so it isn’t like you were hiding in fucking Mexico or something. Besides, everyone in Wolf Creek is ready to mobilize the town and come testify on your behalf. Your ex-wife wants nothing to do with this and her husband is ready to drop all charges. The last thing either of them wanted was to be caught up in this. As far as the public is concerned, they’re the bad guys now.” He pushed paperwork across the table.

“What’s this?” I looked down at the papers.

“Sign it and you’re a free man.” He folded his arms and smiled.

My freedom was in front of me. I flipped through the paperwork and tried to comprehend what it said. It was all sorts of legal talk with words I didn’t totally understand. After I finished flipping through them the first time, I had to start over at the beginning and try to really read it.

Why can’t they print this in fucking English?

It basically stated that I wouldn’t talk about anything that occurred between my ex-wife, her new husband, and myself. I would be bound by a confidentiality clause, because they didn’t want to be brought into the discussion. There was talk about book deals, television, and other stuff, basically stating that if any of it happened, I had to avoid all mentions of them. I was free to discuss anything that happened after I got to Wolf Creek, but nothing that happened before it.

Wow. Leave it to my ex-wife to just take a scorched earth approach to our past.

My life before that moment was pretty much erased. I couldn’t discuss the divorce, the reason for the divorce—hell I couldn’t even talk about my previous marriage. I couldn’t mention that she cheated on me. I couldn’t mention that the guy I caught her with was fucking her while we were married. It was clear that they wanted out of the spotlight and wanted to trade anything to get it. There was a time when I would have been more than willing to sign such an agreement, but there was something that didn’t sit right.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Seriously?” He unfolded his arms and placed them on the table. “Do you realize how hard it was to get that agreement put together in one day? They’re willing to drop everything! The District Attorney has agreed not to press charges, even though he can, because they won’t testify!”

“You’re my lawyer, right?” I looked up at him.

“Yes sir.” He nodded. “And as your lawyer—”

“Get your pen out.” I tossed the paper on the table, interrupting his sentence.

For the next hour, we carefully wrote down my terms. I wasn’t going to run from my problems. I was guilty. I was guilty of assaulting the motherfucker, and I wanted that to be known. It had to be public record. I wanted the accountability and if that meant prison, I would do the time.