Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Six
Cole
The police station smelled of sweat. That smell alone was enough to pull him back to so many years ago.
The first time they dragged him into a place like this, he'd been barely fourteen. The officers had stared at him like he was lying about his age. He'd been tall, scarred, hard-eyed already. Nothing about him had looked like a boy who should still be worrying about homework or games.
He hadn't had that kind of life.
While other kids his age played football or ran home before dark, he'd learned how to run from things. How to take a hit. How to throw a fist. How to stay quiet. How to survive.
It hadn't been the last time either.
