Terry felt he could control his Mother, he would give her that smile he used to defuse things when he went too far.
Now, sweating in the cell, filthy and needing a fix, Timothy was beginning to wonder where his mother was.
He was on his second day in jail and he was surprised she had not bailed him out yet.
Timothy was in an old-style cell with bars, it looked like something from the old west.
He looked up as one of the deputies who manned the jail came in with a tray.
“Lunchtime.” The lady deputy slid the tray under the door, she was a middle-aged no-nonsense type of lady, still pretty and very fit, her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her blue eyes looked him up and down.
