I Came Back for Everything

The day I got out of prison, my girlfriend—who I hadn't seen in five years—pulled up in a Maserati to pick me up.

In the passenger seat sat a guy in his early twenties, athletic build. His face looked a little too much like mine did when I was younger.

Selene told me not to make a scene. Not to want things that were never mine.

She said with her status now, she could have as many pretty boys as she wanted. Right now, she only had one. Apparently, he was my replacement. So I shouldn't be so narrow-minded. After all, a guy like me—fresh out of prison with a record—wasn't even in her league anymore.

I stared at Selene, a little dazed.

She wasn't wrong.

But she seemed to have forgotten why I went to prison in the first place.

I took the fall and went to prison for the woman I loved—my girlfriend.

She'd just turned twenty-two then. Life's golden girl, finally hitting her first real setback. She looked wrecked—thin, hollow, barely herself.

She held my hand. "Luke... could you take the fall for me? I know you love me. I promise—when you get out, we'll get married. We'll build a life together."

Marriage.

Sweet word. Poison center.

I knew prison would be hell—and life after might be even worse.

Still, I believed her.

Five years.

I went in a reckless kid.

I came out thirty.

The second I stepped out of the prison gates, sunlight slammed into me. Blinding. I could barely keep my eyes open.

I lifted a hand to block the glare.

Through the haze, I saw Selene Quinn.

She looked even better than five years ago. The old innocence was gone, the softness too. In its place—sharp edges. The kind you get from surviving the business world.

My chest tightened. Heat crept up my face.

This woman was mine.

She was going to marry me.

Holding onto that, I started toward her.

Selene stood about three feet away, frowning. "What the hell happened to you? How'd you get so skinny? You look like a damn twig. It's disgusting."

I'd been about to pull her into a hug.

"Damn twig" stopped me cold.

I glanced down. The clothes I'd walked into prison with five years ago now looked straight-up pathetic.

My hair was shaved into a stiff buzz cut. Next to Selene's perfectly styled curls, it felt like a bad joke.

She seemed to realize how harsh that sounded. A flicker of guilt crossed her face.

"Get in the car first. We'll talk at home."

She slid her sunglasses down a little lower—like she didn't want anyone snapping a picture.

I kept my head down and said nothing as I walked to the car.

I opened the passenger door—

—and froze.

The guy inside looked about fifty percent like a younger version of me. Except his eyes held open defiance.

I instinctively stepped back.

Selene didn't even notice.

"Luke, this is my assistant. Sit in