The Patch He Chose

Stone signed my name on the ledger and walked free while I did eighteen months. He was my old man. He was supposed to protect me. When I walk out of prison, he's at the gate with a beat-up truck and a faded cut. I spit at his boots. He keeps showing up. At my halfway house. At my job. At the diner where I wait tables. He says he wants to help me testify against the men who ruined me. He says he'll stand beside me when the Kings come for my parole. I don't want a man beside me. I want a man who'll answer for what he did. And when it's over, I'm cutting his name off that patch.