Redemption Read online

  REDEMPTION

  LIVIA LANG

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue - Two Years Later

  Newsletter Sign Up

  Also by Livia Lang

  About the Author

  © Copyright 2016 Livia Lang

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or to any actual events is purely coincidental. Please respect the author’s work and do not make any unauthorized copies or distributions.

  Created with Vellum

  CHAPTER 1

  F lashing lights lit up Ace's rearview window and he slapped the steering wheel while letting out a curse. "Fucking fuck!"

  The streets of Normanville, his hometown of ten thousand measly people, were completely deserted and he had no trouble finding a place to pull over. It was well past midnight, after all, and most of the town closed up by eight. Anyone out late at night was considered immediately suspicious and, in Ace's case, for good reason.

  He pulled into the Dairy Queen parking lot, his clunker of a car groaning noisily as it came to a halt under the single working light. He turned off his music clumsily, and sat back into his seat, awaiting the inevitable.

  Tap tap.

  He looked over to the window, just in time for a blinding light to flash directly into his eyes.

  "Damn it, turn that off," he grumbled, fumbling with the window and rolling it down slowly.

  The light swept over the rest of the car, taking in the pile of candy wrappers in the passenger seat, and his smelly gym clothes in the back seat. Ace could only hope that the bottle of vodka he had been drinking with his friend earlier that evening had rolled under a seat and was tucked well out of view.

  "Late night, Ace." The cop next to his window cut off the flashlight and leaned his weight against the side of the car. "What have you been up to?"

  "Just visiting friends. Is that against the rules, Clete?"

  "That is Officer Bennett to you. Don't you be getting familiar with me, boy." The cop slapped the top of the car angrily.

  Ace sighed and looked up at Officer Bennett. He was a middle-aged man who still kept himself in impeccable shape, his figure no doubt as trim as it was when he graduated the academy years before. He was clean shaven, with a light sprinkling of grey visible in his closely cut brown hair. He also had a deep look of sadness etched across his face.

  "I'm sorry, Officer Bennett," Ace ground out. "Now, can I please go home?"

  "After I see your license and registration."

  "Oh come on! You know who I am! This is ridiculous Clet-" he cut himself off when he received a stern look and quickly corrected his mistake. "Officer Bennett, I mean."

  "I'm not here to hand out special favors. Now, I need your license and registration. You were speeding back there on the corner of Elm."

  Ace was going to point out that the corner of Elm held an abandoned strip mall and didn't have any traffic even in daylight, let alone at the current hour. However, he was getting a headache and just wanted to go crash in bed sooner rather than later. And the only way to get Officer Bennett off your back was to give him what he wanted.

  "Fine, let me get it."

  Ace pulled his wallet out of his pocket and slipped out his driver's license. Then he leaned over to the glove box. The door of it tended to stick, much like all the other doors on the car, and he had to wrench it with all his strength. When it did pop open, it caught him by surprise, sending trash and debris flying everywhere.

  "What's that?" came the stern voice from the widow, and Ace froze.

  A Ziploc baggie had sprung forward and landed in the middle of the passenger seat. Even in the dark, the bright colors of the pills were clearly visible. There were red square pills, several large white pills, and even some pink ones shaped like hearts.

  "I'm going to need you to step out of the car." The voice had changed from stern to icy.

  "Listen, I can explain." Ace moved to pick up the baggie and throw it back into the glove box.

  "Don't you dare touch that bag. I want you out of the car this instant, Ace. Do not push me."

  Ace’s stomach sank to his knees. This wasn't how his night was supposed to go! All he wanted to do was spend some time with his friends, get a little high, and unwind after another shitty week working on the construction site. Then he was going to go home and get the first good night of sleep in days. But instead, he was stuck out here with Officer Goody Two-Shoes.

  Ace unbuckled his seatbelt and put his hand on the door handle. Officer Bennett moved back and stood with arms crossed angrily over his chest, daggers coming out of his eyes. Ace looked down, avoiding the piercing gaze, and got out of the car.

  As soon as he stepped out, he stumbled a bit, and had to grab the hood. While Ace had been able to keep it together while sitting down, the vodka in his system was starting to rear its ugly head.

  "And you've been hitting the bottle again. I can't believe this." Officer Bennett's voice was still hard, but a hint of despair flitted into view for a second, before disappearing again. "Turn around and face the car. Put your hands on the roof and spread your legs. Don't say a word."

  Ace did as he was told, clamping his mouth shut to try and keep the rage from coming out. Why did this always happen to him? He worked his ass off at his job, and just wanted some peace to be himself. Being high was the only thing to make him happy, so society could fuck right off, as far as he was concerned.

  Officer Bennett was efficient and by the book. He searched the car, bagged the evidence, called in the arrest, and had Ace handcuffed in record time. The older man barely talked, only asking terse questions when needed. Ace merely shrugged for most of his responses, not trusting himself to speak.

  Finally, the cop was ready to take Ace to the station. He put a hand on Ace's elbow and began to guide him to the cop car. He swung open the door without ceremony and pointed to the back seat.

  "Get in, Ace."

  Ace looked into the car, and the reality of the situation hit him in the stomach. He had ridden close to the line plenty of times, and was well known around town for his recklessness. However, this was the first time he'd ever had to ride in the back of a patrol car while handcuffed. Even if the streets were deserted, he didn't like the idea of being seen like this — like a shamed loser.

  "I was just trying to have some fun," he mumbled, standing in front of the open door with shoulders hunched.

  "Fun? Driving around intoxicated? That's not fun — that's attempted murder. I can't believe you would do such a stupid thing. You've messed up before, but it's obvious now that you don't care about either your life or anyone else's. I don’t know what to do to help you. Maybe the judge can get your head on straight."

  Officer Bennett grabbed his shoulder tightly and pushed down, forcing Ace to clamber into the backseat. Then the cop shut the door hard and got into the front seat.

  Ace looked through the grate separating them. The weight of his current mistake was beginning to weigh on him, and he felt afraid. "Dad?"

  Officer Bennett gripped the steering wheel tightly in his hands and stared straight a
head. "Don't."

  "But—"

  "Don't! There is nothing more to say tonight, Ace." His father shot a quick look in the rearview mirror, his eyes mournful.

  Ace hadn't seen his father look that sad since Ace’s mother had died six years before. As far as he knew, his father had only ever cried once: the day they had lowered Alice Bennett into the cold ground one winter’s morning. Ace suddenly had the feeling that his father was very close to losing a few more tears that night, and guilt stabbed him in the stomach.

  "Just another way I've fucked up," he said, so quietly that he barely heard it himself.

  The car started and he leaned his head back on the seat to watch the small town move past the windows as they made their way to the police station. The small houses that lined Normanville's streets, relics of its mining past at the turn of the century, flitted by quickly. He knew almost every family in the town, and they knew him. Knew him as the continual disappointment of his good citizen father and his dearly departed, saintly mother.

  Ace The Fuck Up. That was him, alright, and he didn't see how anything could save him from his fate.

  CHAPTER 2

  M artina woke up early in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise. It was a deeply ingrained habit at this point, and she was sometimes up even before daylight. She had a million tasks to do and only one lifetime, so as far as she was concerned every waking minute was worth utilizing.

  She got dressed in the dim light, slipping a loose pair of jeans over her lean hips and a flannel shirt across her small chest, and then grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen. She didn’t normally bother with a full breakfast — there were way too many things on her to-do list to waste time eating cereal and watching cartoons in the morning.

  “Got a packed day today!” she chirped happily to her fish, who swam around lazily looking at her from his bowl in the kitchen.

  Martina was halfway down the front steps of her small three-room cottage when she remembered she hadn't brushed his hair that morning. Quickly running her fingers through the curly mop, she tried in vain to make herself at least halfway presentable. She was supposed to get a new assistant that morning, and really didn't want to run him off by looking like a swamp creature. Not when she so desperately needed help.

  Running an animal sanctuary was hard work, especially when it was being done by a one-person crew and that person weighed about one hundred pounds. Martina needed someone she could depend on, someone who would be there every weekday to help keep the ship afloat. And who could also pick up all the heavy things that she could barely move with her tiny arms.

  Martina opened the large storage shed next to her house and began pulling vegetables from the big bins set up inside. Next, she turned to the enormous freezers against the back wall and pulled out fresh meat for the numerous carnivores in her care. Then she washed, cut, and sorted everything into carefully labeled plastic tubs, each sporting a printed picture of its intended animal. Only after everything was carefully prepared did she stick lids on the bins and begin lugging them to an awaiting golf cart.

  The whole process took over two hours and she was sweating heavily by the time everything was loaded up. Slumped into the driver's seat and wiping her brow, Martina tried not to sigh. She was only just getting started on the daily chores, but she was already beat.

  "I need this assistant to work out so badly," she said to herself, shaking her head and starting the engine.

  She began driving around the five-acre lot, stopping first at the pen closest to the house. "Good morning, girls," she cooed, getting out of the cart in front of a large dirt enclosure. The sight of the newest additions to the park, three young pigs, pushed her management worries from her mind. "Are you hungry?"

  The dainty pink pigs snorted, running in circles around the pen as fast as their little legs could go. She reached down and gave a few quick pets as they flashed by, then grabbed their food container from the back of the cart.

  "You lucky critters are getting some fresh cabbage, pig pellets, and apples," she told them, dumping the food into their trough. Pigs were as smart as dogs, in her experience, so she always took the time to chat with them. They mostly ignored her, but it was worth the shot.

  Satisfied that the pigs were taken care of, Martina got back into the cart and drove on down the line. She repeated the feeding ritual at each cage, taking the time to bond with every animal. It was nearly noon by the time she finished her rounds, having fed the blind horses, abandoned llama, maimed old crow, the five dogs she had saved from the kill shelter, and the various reptiles the Game and Fish Department had asked for her help with. And those were only a small part of her collection of animals.

  She had just pulled back up to her house and put down lunch for her very vocal, very demanding cat named Achilles, when she heard the sound of tires on gravel. Turning around, she watched as a cop car parked in the visitors’ lot on the other side of her storage shed.

  Officer Bennett stepped out, dark aviator glasses on. "Morning, Martina."

  She’d known Officer Clete Bennett for as long as she could remember. He’d chaperoned school dances when she was a kid, and even did security at her high school graduation. He’d also been there on the worst day of her life, but she didn’t like to think about that event if she could help it.

  "Hi, Officer B! Did you bring my assistant?"

  Martina had recently signed up to be an employer through the county’s work program, and today she was getting her first assistant. Low-level offenders would be given the chance to work for her instead of going to jail. As long as they kept their noses clean and passed her reviews, they’d be saved from spending time behind bars. She thought it was a win-win situation — she got the help she so desperately needed, and the men would get their lives back on track.

  "Sure did. Have the paperwork ready for you to sign." Bennett walked up quickly and handed over a stack of neatly arranged papers, along with a pen. He stood in front of Martina so the keeper couldn't get a good view into the patrol car.

  Martina flipped through the stack quickly, not caring to read them over. She just wanted the assistant to start work as soon as possible. "His name is Freddie, right? I think that’s what the judge told me last week," she murmured, beginning to sign on every dotted line as fast as possible.

  "You were supposed to get Freddie, yeah. But he tested positive for meth again, unfortunately, and didn't qualify for the work program. We have your replacement assistant here instead.”

  Bennett moved aside and made a quick motion to the car. The front door opened and out stepped Ace Bennett. Martina felt her fists clenching by her sides. She would have loved to take on a rabid dog instead of Ace. In fact, she would hire a hundred rabid dogs before him. Anything was better than working with that jerk.

  Ace slouched against the car, his muscular frame highlighted in a tight white t-shirt, and his blonde hair closely cropped. His strikingly light eyes were narrowed as they looked at her. He would have been insanely hot, if she didn’t hate his guts.

  Martina looked at Ace in shock, then turned to Officer Bennett while shaking her head. "No, there has been some mistake. I can't work with him."

  It was absolutely not going to happen. No way in hell. Ace Bennett had been a bully and loudmouthed jerk all through high school. He had barely passed; cheating was the only way he’d been able to graduate. And what had he done with all that free time earned from skipping out on school work? He’d been making her life miserable one cruel joke at a time.

  Ace was not a man Martina had any intention of letting near her sweet animals.

  “Martina, don’t be too hasty,” Officer Bennett began.

  "No, like I said, I'm afraid this won't work out." She tried to thrust the forms back into the cop's hands, her cheeks becoming flushed.

  Clete sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Martina, I know this is a last minute change but please just try it out. Ace needs some structure in his life, and I think working here would reall
y help him get his feet on the ground. This work program is the only thing keeping him out of jail after that drunk driving charge."

  "I've known your son for years, and I don't think he has the temperament for this job," Martina replied softly. She left out the part about Ace only having the temperament to run a ring of small time con men, as she wasn't going to be unprofessional in front of the stupid jerk's father. She really liked Officer Bennett, and felt sorry for him. How had such a nice man ended up with such a crappy son?

  Officer Bennett sighed and looked around the farm, exhaustion showing in the deep lines of his face. Finally, he spoke again with a note of despair in his voice. "I don't like to beg, Martina, but please try it out for just one week. If he causes any trouble at all, I promise I'll be here in minutes to take him away. But I can feel that he is so close to realizing that he needs to change. He's always enjoyed the outdoors and wildlife, and hanging around a successful woman like you could really change him." Bennett gestured to the pens and trees that surrounded the property. "Just look what you've done in the two years since you graduated. You've got a talent and drive I respect, and I can only hope that maybe, just maybe, a small part of it will rub off on Ace. Before it is too late. I don’t want to see my boy end up in jail…or worse."

  Martina chewed on her lip, trying to find the words to gently let the cop down. She understood Officer Bennett's pain; the whole town did. However, Martina didn't see how she could help. In fact, she might be the worst choice possible to try and reform the wild hellion that was Ace.

  In fact, Ace hated her and had made that very clear. He’d spent every class throwing wads of paper at Martina's head and laughing at her skinny legs. High school had been a very long, trying experience, and it was all because of him.

  Clete sensed her continued hesitation and broke in again. "I know how hard you work, and it's running you down. He could be useful, I promise. You might even get a day off for once."