Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls, #4) by L A Cotton Read Free Book Online Page A

good idea, after all.
    Not that there’d been many alternatives. What Jack Doyle and his associates wanted was crazy. I wasn’t cut out to lead some kind of rebellion against O’Connor. It had been different at CFA. I was the motherfucking king at the Academy, but that was college. This was the real world. A world I hadn’t been a part of for four years.
    As I hit the street, I noticed a sign for Lincoln Park Stadium. With nothing better to do, I headed toward the park. The sound of kids grunting and shouting grew louder with every step until I rounded the sidewalk and saw a blur of red and black running around the track. Unnoticed, I slipped through the gate and climbed the bleachers choosing a seat at the back, out of sight.
    Watching them, a strange pang settled deep in my chest. I hadn’t liked track. Football was more my sport—I’d lived for the game back in college—but seeing their discipline, their determination to finish the race, stirred something in me. At that moment, they had focus. An end goal.
    I envied them.
    I’d had that once. Goals, aspirations, motivation.
    I had the whole world at my feet, and now, what did I have? An envelope full of hand-me-down cash and an ugly fucking scar.
    “You’re not supposed to be up here,” a voice called out, and I twisted on the bench. My eyes landed on a girl in a black and red hoodie, similar to the outfits worn by the kids down on the track.
    “And you are?” I hit back.
    The girl shrugged, blowing a huge bubble with her gum. It popped, and she slurped it back into her mouth. My face screwed up. What was she, twelve? It was fucking disgusting.
    “This says I am.” She fingered her hoodie, puffing out the red P on her chest.
    I turned away from her and dropped my chin onto my fists. Leaning forward on my elbows, I ignored her.
    “I can still see you,” she sang almost musically causing annoyance to flare through me. Who the hell was this girl?
    “Yo, Cara, you coming down or what?” a guy shouted from the track. I heard her sigh deeply and then she was moving past me and down to her friend.
    The hoodie outlined her slight frame, but her legs looked strong and it was obvious she ran track. But something about her attitude screamed unruly, not disciplined. She didn’t look in my direction again, giving me only a view of the back of her head. Short blond hair grazed her shoulders and black capris hugged her tight ass. In fact, short pretty much summed her up. I wondered if the description matched her personality—short tempered. I smirked to myself. Something about the way she was jabbing her finger at the guy friend told me it did.
    They seemed to be arguing about something. His brows knitted together as he glared down at her, standing a good foot taller than she was. But he didn’t intimidate her; she was all up in his face pointing and yelling. Eventually, a couple of other students joined the commotion and ended up stepping between the blonde and the guy.
    Interesting.
    I was so used to chicks falling over themselves around me, but something told me she wasn’t that type of girl. Not that it mattered. She was no one to me, and she was right—I wasn’t supposed to be here. Without a backward glance, I left the stadium and went in search of supplies.
    ~
    T hree hours later, and bored out of my fucking mind, I found myself back at the stadium. The way blondie had said ‘you’re not supposed to be here’ was like she was challenging me. Well, I didn’t back down from a challenge, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to listen to the empty threats of some prissy college chick.
    It was dark and the place was deserted, but I welcomed the quiet. Oregon State was always noisy. If the guards weren’t barking orders, it was inmates talking and joking, sometimes arguing, or the constant rattle of keys turning in the steel locks. There was always something. Even in the dead of the night, you could hear the pipes creak and the wind whoosh through the