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Deadly Ties Now Available |
PROLOGUE
Travis County Correctional Center, Austin , Texas , December
How dare they! Who in the hell did that bitch Shepard think she was? Nina Fisher would make them all pay.
“The appeal to reinstate parental rights has been denied. Ruling stands,” the lawyer said sitting across from her.
No! They couldn't do this to her. He was hers, damn it. Ryan was her flesh and blood. It wasn't Nina's fault the eight-year-old kid didn't listen. The little shit had never listened. It was her right to discipline him any way she saw fit. Ryan was to blame for this mess. If he'd only behaved she wouldn't have had to hurt him. And what was the big deal? Nina still didn't know why they had charged her with Ryan's attempted murder. He'd lived hadn't he? So he'd spent a while in the hospital and had a broken arm and some bruises. What was the fuss about?
Damn, what she wouldn't give for a fix. Just one quick fix. A bump, yeah, a bump would be great to get over this freekin' jonesing.
“Ms. Fisher, did you hear what I said?” the slick lawyer--she had forgotten his name--asked. Probably fresh out of law school.
Nina stared at the brick behind Mr. I'm-cool-because-I'm-a-lawyer's head.
“Yeah, I heard you.”
She shifted and stared at the man across from her with his perfectly groomed blond hair, starched shirt and neatly knotted tie. Probably never worried about things like paying for childcare or whatever the hell.
“I bet you drive an SUV. Or no, one of those perfect law firm cars in either gray or black, like a Lexus or maybe a BMW? No, you're too new. Like gourmet coffee don'tcha?” Anger rose up in her, clawing to get out.
The lawyer ignored her.
Just one fix. She leaned up, tapping her fingers, bouncing her legs on the balls of her feet. “Ryan's mine.”
The lawyer sighed. “Ms. Fisher, it's over. You lost. I have to say, I warned you. Going in with the attempted murder charge against you, we really didn't have a chance to win.”
“And I bet you just tried your ever living damnedest, didn't you, sport?”
He stiffened. Then stuffed the file into his briefcase and clicked it shut.
“No judge was going to give you your rights back after you nearly killed your son.”
She slapped her hands on the tabletop. “That's right! Mine! My son! Not that social worker, Taylor Shepard, bitch.”
He took a deep breath. “As far as the courts are concerned, you have no child and Ryan Shepard's mother is Taylor Shepard.”
Nina wanted to tear the idiot to shreds. She lunged across the table, grabbing the man's tie and jerking him over the edge of the table to her. “Never. I'll never let him go. He's mine. Mine! A piece of paper doesn't make him anyone else's. My blood flows through his veins.”
The guard jerked her back, muttering to the lawyer to leave.
“He's mine!” she screamed. Another guard pinned her to the table.
“Good day, Ms. Fisher.” The door clicked shut behind him.
Prison sentence or no, Nina would find a way to take what was hers. Attempted murder, my ass.
Thinking of Ryan with Mrs. Shepard stormed rage through her veins. “I'll make you pay, bitch. Before long you'll wish you never heard of me. I'll make your life hell,” she whispered.
“Come on Fisher,” one guard said, jerking her up and slapping the cuffs on her.
She walked out, the guard, a large ebony skinned man twice her size, pushed her down the hall.
Her chest heaved up and down with emotion, and she stumbled along the corridor. All this because Ryan had fallen through a plate glass window. She really hadn't meant to throw him that hard. If he'd only listened, she never would have thrown him in the first place. Stupid brat.
“You're gonna have fun where you're going, Fisher.” The other guard was a woman with pale blonde hair, who looked too much like a doll to be sporting a uniform.
“Go to hell,” she spat back.
“No, I'll wait and let you tell me what it's like,” answered the guard. “Most inmates don't look well on those who hurt kids, especially their own. It's lower than low. In the pen, it's almost as bad as being a cop. Yeah, you're gonna have lots of fun.”
Nina opted for silence. The rage boiled and rolled through her, a strong black cloud eating everything in its path. Time. She needed time. Time to think, to calm down, to plan. Damn it, if she only had some goods, she could focus enough to figure out what the hell to do next. Her laceless shoes squeaked on the linoleum. She'd have plenty of time for that once she reached Gatesville. Nothing like a maximum security prison for lots of thinking time.
Damn Ryan and his do-gooder savior.
It might take her awhile, but she'd figure out a plan. She always did. Always.
And when she did, those who wronged her, paid. They paid dearly.
