Hell Breaks Loose (Devil's Rock #2)(6)

Later, they would study the footage and marvel at him walking bold as day down the hall. But by then it wouldn’t matter. He would be long gone.

He passed through a set of automatic doors and sent a smile to the woman behind the circular counter of the admittance desk. She gave him a distracted nod as she spoke into a phone.

Only two people sat in the waiting area. One dozed. The other stared at the TV in the corner where footage of the First Daughter ran in a constant loop.

His heart stalled and then sped up at the sight of the security guard near the door. His attention was focused on the television screen, too. As Reid approached, he looked up and locked eyes on him. This was it. If there was going to be trouble it would happen now.

“Evenin’,” Reid greeted as he neared the door. Almost there.

The guard glanced him up and down before nodding. “Have a good one.”

Reid didn’t breathe fully. Not even once he stepped out into the night. Every bit of him pulled tight. He didn’t let himself feel free. Not yet. It wasn’t time to drop his guard. He still had a long way to go to accomplish what he needed to do.

Glancing around, he pulled out the keys from his hoodie and pressed the unlock button. A distant beep echoed on the night. He moved in that direction, weaving between cars. He pushed the unlock button again and this time spotted the flash of headlights.

He advanced on an old Ford Explorer and pulled open the driver’s side door. Ducking inside, he adjusted the seat for his long legs then turned the ignition on and drove out of the parking lot.

He headed east for thirty minutes, stopping at a gas station to fill up the tank with the money he’d found in the locker. This late, the place was deserted. He kept his head low as he paid the sleepy-eyed clerk and avoided looking directly at the security camera in the corner.

Reid pulled around the back, where a lone car sat parked beside the Dumpster, presumably the clerk’s car. He swapped license plates with it. The guy probably wouldn’t even notice anytime soon.

He’d still have to get rid of the Explorer, but this would give him some time. He could ditch the vehicle after he got where he was going.

Satisfied, he hopped back behind the wheel and drove a couple more hours through the night, putting Sweet Hill far behind him. His adrenaline never slowed. He constantly glanced up at the rearview mirror, half expecting to see the flash of headlights. They never appeared.

The highway was dark, the passing car rare on this isolated stretch of road. He rubbed a hand over his close-cropped hair and settled into his seat. Desert mountains lumbered on either side of him, dark beasts etched against the backdrop of night. He flipped through radio stations. No news of an escaped convict. It had been a long time since he was this alone. He still didn’t feel free, though. He doubted he ever would.

Eleven years had passed since he’d been out, but he expected to find Zane in the usual place. His brother was simple that way. He liked his routines. Reid would bet that the cabinet was full of the same cereal they ate as kids.

The cabin sat several miles behind the main house on 530 acres located outside Odessa. The land had been in his family for almost two hundred years, granted to them after the Texas War of Independence.

The authorities didn’t know about the cabin . . . or the hidden dirt road that veered off the county farm road you had to take to get there. The old Explorer bumped along the unpaved lane. It was so overgrown with shrubs and cacti that it couldn’t rightly be called a road, which was the point.

After an hour the road suddenly opened up to a clearing. The cabin stood there. Three trucks and a few motorcycles were parked out front, confirming that the cabin was still in use and far from forgotten.

The front door opened as he emerged from the Explorer. Several men stepped out onto the porch, wielding guns. He spotted Zane at the center of them. His chest squeezed. His brother had visited him a couple times his first year at the Rock. Nothing since then.

Time had not been kind to his younger brother. He was stockier, the baby roundness gone from his face. He was shirtless, too, and Reid marked the dozens of tats covering him that had not been there eleven years ago. Most notable was the eagle sitting atop a vicious looking skull. Most of the guys staring Reid down had the same symbol inked on their necks or faces. Once upon a time he would have been the one standing there wearing that eagle and skull. If fate hadn’t intervened . . . if his eyes hadn’t been opened.

If he hadn’t gone to prison.

He swallowed against the acid rising up in his throat and fixed a smile on his face. “Hey, little brother.”

It was a bitter pill. This was his baby brother. The reason he hadn’t taken off for parts unknown when he graduated from high school was because of this guy right here. He hadn’t wanted to leave Zane alone with their crackhead mother and a deadbeat dad who showed up every few months. Fat lot of good sticking around did his brother. He’d ended up in jail, and his brother was running with a bunch of low-life thugs. His brother was a low-life thug now.

“Holy shit,” Zane declared, hopping down from the porch, still holding onto his rifle. “Son of a bitch! What are you doing here?” He slapped his thigh as if he’d just seen something amazing. Something like his older brother who went away for a life sentence standing in front of him.

Reid lifted his chin and tried not to stare too hard at the emblems of hate riddling his brother. He nodded at the rifle. “Is that any way to welcome me home?”