Three Nights before Christmas Read Free

will keep me warm.”
    “Are there places you can pick up gear locally in Marietta, or should we try to find you a coat before we head down there?” Jenna asked, neatly avoiding commenting on Lacey’s weight.
    “Marietta’s not exactly a one-horse town,” Lacey replied, relaxing a little as the conversation slipped toward inconsequential things. “We have electricity and running water and all the mod cons.”
    “I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve just never been there. It could be one of those places with nothing but feed stores and flannel shirts and men who chew tobacco and whittle.”
    Lacey’s smile grew. “Careful, city girl. That hole you’re digging just keeps getting bigger and bigger.”
    They hit a Starbucks not far from the prison, and Jenna bought Lacey a venti pumpkin spice latte, since they hadn’t passed a bank where Lacey could cash her megabucks prison earnings. Lacey cradled the to-go cup in both hands, letting its warmth seep through her cold fingers. How in the world would she rebuild her life on just over $300? A hundred of that was a parting gift from the state so she wouldn’t be utterly destitute—only partly destitute. The rest was the sum total of her earnings working as a mechanic for the janitorial office for nearly three years. She’d earned sixty cents an hour; the prison had taken most of that back to recoup what they spent on her “room and board.” They’d put some in an account for her to spend through the prison catalog. The last few cents an hour went into this release-day check.
    Good thing Jenna had taken on her case pro bono.
    When they made it to the outskirts of Billings, Jenna grabbed her phone from the center console and handed it over. “Feel free to call your brother or anyone else if you like.”
    Lacey stared at the phone. She’d faced Sawyer and his silent disappointment in the visitors’ room plenty of times. Today would be different. She didn’t want to forge their new relationship over the phone. She wanted to be able to judge his facial ticks, to get and give a hug. To meet him on equal footing.
    She slid the phone back into the console. “Thanks, but we’ll be there soon enough.”
    The drive to Marietta lasted a few hours, and Lacey pressed her face against the window for every second of it, drinking in the passing trees and snowdrifts. Feeling the brush of warm air from the Volvo SUV’s heater against her cheek. Sinking in to the luxurious seats, so much more comfortable than the hard plastic chairs at the prison. Listening to the familiar chants of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” over the radio.
    Once upon a time, it would’ve ticked her off to hear Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Now it lightened her spirit.
    No more frozen meat patties. No more instant potatoes. No more taking on the worst jobs because someone else is too lazy to. No more guards on power trips.
    If that wasn’t enough to make someone ding-dong merrily on high, she didn’t know what was.
    “So, did they give you the contact details for your parole officer?”
    Damn. There went her nascent holiday high. “Yeah, and they told me to get in touch with him in the next twenty-four hours.”
    “I’d do it as soon as you get home, since tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. You don’t want to risk your freedom just because he’s out of the office and forgot to turn on his voicemail.”
    Lacey’s heart leapt to her throat. “They can be that petty?”
    “Depends who you get.”
    Lacey fished the business card out of her jeans pocket. “Uh…Chester Robinson.”
    “Ah, he’s ace. Ex-Marine so he doesn’t take any shit, but he’s also pretty good at figuring out what’s important and what’s not. Still, call him when you get home and see if he needs anything from you. He’ll probably just go over the rules with you. You know them already?”
    “No alcohol. No firearms. Check in on whatever schedule he gives me. Call him immediately if I ever have a run-in with