Notes

CH. 1 - THE STARTING GUN

Kenley Blackhurst.
The very name itself would be very recognisable to any court, any judge, any jury. A serial burglar, as he himself was very much aware. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be aware, really.
He regretted every single second of what he had done. The Briton thought he had it all, thought he was in first place. The general feeling of being on top of the world. He was in a good job, well-paying. A history professor at the local University. A wife, and a daughter.

But of course, he had to go and throw it all away.

Well, not all of it. He’d have lost his wife whether he had committed his heinous crimes or not. His daughter was an entirely different matter. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time that he had seen her, never mind talk to her. Had he seen her at all? ...What was her name again? He had the urge to shake his head. Curse his ex-wife, curse her. If he could ask her for only one thing, it would be his daughter’s name. Although, his brand new criminal record wasn’t something he’d like to think about at this exact moment. Neither was the daughter that he wished he knew. He had to focus on the current.

Which is how he brought himself out of his thoughts, greeted with the not-so-warm sight of the passing vehicles on the motorway, and the feeling of tight metal rings binding his hands together. Handcuffs. Lovely, the back of a police car. It wasn’t exactly the change of scenery that he originally had in mind, but it’d have to do.

“You know, I don’t think you did it.”

His gaze lifted from his shoes, to the officer sitting in the front of the vehicle. The officer couldn’t have been any younger than fifty, that’s for sure. Kenley wondered for a second as to why he hadn’t retired yet, but immediately dismissed it. It was unimportant to him, surely. Unnecessary information wasn’t something that he was looking to gather at that current time.

“What makes you say that?”

“You have that look in your eyes. I’ve been serving the law for thirty-five years, I know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Oh, yeah? Pray tell, what is the ‘look’?”

“You don’t regret getting caught. You regret what you’ve done. ...I respect that.”

“Of course I do.” Kenley interjected. “No sane man could commit murder, and still hold some form of dignity. I sure as hell don’t.”

“Well, not every man is sane.” The officer simply hummed in response.

“Why are you bothering to make small talk, gramps? You’re jugglin’ me from one high-security prison to the next. I could probably kill you if I wanted to.”

“You’re not going to, Blackhurst. I may be old, but I sure as hell ain’t blind.”

The blonde fell silent, leaning back into his seat and staring out of the window. Unfortunately for Kenley, it didn’t seem like he would be leaving the tight grasp of the law any time soon.