Or the man sitting next to them with a sinister smile on his face.
Devin
“Did you intercept the latest letter?” I asked.
“Sure did,” the post office worker said. “What do you want me to do with it?”
“Throw it away,” Dario said. “Did you get anything from him again?”
We both knew who “him” was.
The “convict.”
She nodded to the letter that was sitting on the table. “There.”
I took it and shoved it into my pocket.
I used to read the letters that my sister sent to her husband, but there was only so much I could hear about her day, her dog, or how much she hated me.
Eventually I just started throwing them away.
Now her husband’s letters?
I had no issue reading those.
They were informative.
Like today’s, he talked about what had happened. Who had tried to kill him today. What information he’d heard on the inside that might help Sage escape from us.
Tucking the letter in my breast pocket, I took the divorce papers that I’d just had notarized with Sage’s forged name—my mama had helped with that—and I headed for the prison.
It was a four-and-a-half-hour drive from home to Kentucky, but it would be worth it.
I nodded at the security guard that I paid weekly to give Ramsey a shakedown, and he allowed me in with my knife and my papers.
He led me to a room where I would be meeting Ramsey in and then said, “I’ll go get him.”
He arrived within five minutes, a fresh bruise forming on his face, likely courtesy of the life that I saw that he lived in here.
He saw me and rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s you.”
I waited for him to sit down, but he never did.
So I gestured at the papers in front of me. “My sister wants a divorce.”
His eyes flared. “Does she?”
I nodded.
His smile was smart as he said, “No.”
“No?” I asked. “You say no to me?”
Ramsey rolled his eyes. “You’re the fuckin’ pinky toe of the Mafia. You’re just a right hand, of a right hand, of a right hand, of another right-hand man. Don’t act like you’re anything special.”
My brows rose to my hairline. “You don’t think I’m anything special?”
His eyes went glacial. “No. I don’t.”