Sentenced

Copyright © LL Collins 2015

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by

Marisa Shor at Cover Me, Darling

www.covermedarling.com

Photography by Darren Birks

www.darrenbirksphotography.com

Models: Darren Birks and Rachel Morris

Interior Design and formatting by

Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

www.perfectlypublishable.com

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contact Author LL Collins

www.llcollinsauthor.com

authorllcollins@gmail.com

Twitter: @authorllcollins

Facebook: www.facebook.com/llcollinsauthor

To all the survivors that have risen above the challenges that life has handed you, and yet found the strength to achieve happiness. I hope you enjoy this story of redemption.

WARNING

This book contains substantial adult content and language. It also contains topics that may be disturbing to some readers. This includes topics of drug use, rape, and other significant violence. Read at your own risk.

If you choose to read this book, please take all necessary precautions. Your reading device may go up in smoke, you may lose sleep, you may have the urge to throw things, and you may never want it to end. Johnny is a dirty talking, hardened character with a past none of us would want to dream of, but he’ll find his way into your heart and won’t let go.

~Author L.L. Collins

Sentenced

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

EPILOGUE

Books by LL Collins

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Playlist

The sound of wood splintering and a huge boom woke me from a dead sleep. It was so loud that I could feel my heart beating in my ears. Smoke filled the room and I coughed. What was happening? Where was I?

Just as I remembered I was staying in Blue’s apartment tonight to prepare for our new shipment, I heard shouting. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. The sounds were muffled and muted, like I was underwater. My eyes widened and my body shook as I saw dark figures charging into the room, weapons held in front of them. Were we being robbed?

I stood, my legs shaking as they got closer. It was then I understood what they were saying. “GET DOWN! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”

Oh God. It was all over.

I jerked into a sitting position, my chest heaving and sweat soaking the flimsy sheets. I looked around, hoping I hadn’t woken Buck, my cellmate. If I woke Buck with my nightmares, he’d become the nightmare. I blinked, seeing the light starting to filter into our minuscule window that was grimy and covered with bars.

I hated that damn nightmare. No matter how long it had been since the day that my life ended, my subconscious still wouldn’t let it go. I had to relive it over, over, and over again every time I closed my eyes.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and relieved myself in the shared toilet. I looked over my shoulder at Buck and tiptoed past him to the bars that kept us locked in here until seven in the morning. It was almost five thirty, according to the glowing red numbers of the digital clock on the wall down in the common area.

Buck was not a nice guy. Not in the least. He was in here for rape and attempted murder. As much as I tried not to aggravate him, it didn’t help. He and I had had enough run-ins to last a lifetime, but one had been enough for me. I shuddered¸ willing the memory of his last assault out of my head. The guards were terrified of him, I thought, or maybe he had something on one of them. Whatever it was, they turned a blind eye to our cell activities.

I pressed my head against the cool metal of the bars, closing my eyes. Today was day 399 in prison. I had so long to go in this hellhole, and I wasn’t sure I could make it. But I had to. For Julia. Everything I did, I did for her. She was the only person that had ever loved me unconditionally, and I’d show her the same. Even if she would never understand it.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling the cool air from the air conditioner blowing on my face. I was cold, but I couldn’t move. I took in the softness of the bed, the way it curved around my large frame, cushioning my sore body like nothing had in a long time. My fingers touched the smooth fabric of the shorts I was wearing and the cotton of my shirt. The starched, rough feeling of the prison outfit was long gone. I lifted my hand and felt my short beard and hair that my sister had spent hours trimming and shaping. For the first time in two years, I was really, truly clean. I’d been in the shower for so long my skin had pruned. My stomach was full of fresh hamburgers and fries, and I actually felt a little sick, it having been so long since I’d eaten anything of any decency. Was I dreaming or was this real? Had I walked out of that prison today forever? Was I laying in a hotel room, a free man? Had my father been instrumental in freeing me?

My sister and her fiancé were next door, and my parents were in the room on the other side of me. I was sandwiched between my family. I appreciated their understanding that I needed, craved, my own space after over two years of living in hell with Buck. I was convinced he was the devil reincarnated after the unmentionable things he had done to me and gotten away with it.

I shook my head, forcing thoughts of that monster out of my head. I’d never have to see him again. I felt momentarily sorry for whoever was going to have to be his cellmate now. He was a lifer, and I wasn’t. I was free.

I was thirty-four years old and for almost half of my life I’d been lost, searching for a dream that was never going to happen. I’d wasted so many years. Years that I could’ve had a career, a life. Regret should’ve been my middle name. I closed my eyes, feeling sleep take over. I should’ve felt absolute relief. Instead, panic was weaseling its way through my body. I had no idea who I was anymore, or where my life was going. I was physically free but still locked up in my own head. I didn’t think I’d ever be free from the bars around my heart, but at least I could now make my own decisions on what I did.