Read Maggie's Man for Free Online Page B

head and bright blue eyes
and overpumped, swastika-tattooed arms, and had instantly recognized the man's
type. This man could've been his father or his brother or any number of the men
who'd stopped by his family's one-bedroom wooden shack when he was growing up.
    "Y'got a choice, man," the guy had
continued. He'd held out a pack of cigarettes, a friendly gesture that Cain had
known better than to accept. "In here now, in here the True Man is the
minority. Here, here in this hellhole, they think we're nothin', bro. Y'can't
have 'em thinkin' that. Can't let 'em think that."
    "I'm not interested."
    "Sure you are. Bright guy like you? Bet
y'are. Look around, buddy. You see individuals? Ain't no individuals in prison,
bro. They are four families, that's it. And we're your family, the only family
yer gonna find here as a True Man."
    "I'm not interested."
    The man finally smirked. "Buddy, they told
me you were bright, some computer-bright guy. But, man, you sure are slow.
Where do you think the democracy is? Huh? Didn't that shakedown teach you
nothin'? When they were poking and proddin' your body, didn't that teach you
anythin'? Like I said, you got a choice. We're it. We protect you, we look out
for the True Man. And you join. We got outside connections, you know. We got
contacts who are mighty interested in a computer-bright True Man. You ever surf
this Internet thing? Shoot, I don't even understand the keyboards, but they say
you're scary bright. They say you already belong to us, born into us. Your
brother, he's a legend. And now here's you. They say you killed a Jew. Brother,
we salute you."
    And Cain had moved, faster than the man had
expected, faster than Cain had expected. Suddenly he was rage and fury, and the
months of brooding, the months of wondering how his brother could've done such
a thing were simply gone. He was angry, angrier than he'd ever been, and he
shoved the skinhead against the wall so loud the crack silenced the room. Heads
turned.
    "I'll say it once, then we're through
here," Cain stated quietly, his arm pressed against the man's Adam's
apple, pinning him to the wall. "I am not my brother. I am not interested
in you. I am an innocent man. But if I catch any of you 'saluting' Kathy's
death, that may change."
    He'd abruptly released the smaller man, who
slid down to the floor. The guy hadn't fallen. He'd been wiry, compact and made
from sturdy stock that was used to taking a few beatings. He'd shaken himself
out, then had merely grinned at Cain's dark, fierce expression.
    "We're all innocent in here," the guy
had mocked. He'd squared his shoulders. "But buddy, boy did you handle
that poor. We'll cut you slack, being it's day one and all. Next time someone
offers you a cigarette, though, buddy, you'd better take it. You a geeky man, a
white-collar sissy boy. Mess with us, and that is war. College boys can't
afford war, not in here, mister. Not in here."
    But the guy had been wrong about that, though
maybe not as wrong as Cain would've liked.
    Six years, six years… God, he suddenly felt so
old.
    They approached another red traffic light and
he slowed to a halt.
    "I'll make a deal with you," he said
at last.
    Maggie looked at him sideways, her blue eyes
barely discernible through her hair. "What?" she asked, her voice
clearly wary.
    His finger tapped the steering wheel twice.
"Despite what you may think, Maggie, I don't want anyone to get hurt. I
have to get to Idaho—everyone's going to have to accept that—but I'd like to do
it as quietly as possible." He paused to make sure he had her attention.
The light turned green so he started driving again, careful to observe the speed
limit.
    "Yes?" she prodded after a minute.
    "Let's think about this logically. We're
in Portland, in a state with one of the lowest tax rates. The counties and
cities have constrained budgets—"
    "Thanks for the political
commentary."
    "It's relevant, Maggie. Consider the chief
of police right now. He has one escaped felon and