He grimaced as the warm beer filled his mouth. He'd always hated warm beer and now it was the best thing he'd tasted in nearly three years. His eyes scanned the small room, the wrapped, disposable cups, the plastic ice bucket, the cheap, scratchy comforter all clearly illustrating his desolate circumstances. This wasn't the life he was supposed to be living. This wasn't the life he deserved. He'd made mistakes, but so had everyone else and he was the one who was suffering. He was paying the price for all of the sins.

The feel of the thin envelope in his shirt pocket made him itchy and uncomfortable. He could still hear the words of the warden as he'd eyed him with a mix of disdain, arrogance, and a tinge of pity. The pity bothered him more than anything else. He'd been hated plenty of times. He was fine with hate, but he loathed pity.

"Michigan will front you an allowance for two weeks of living expenses since you don't have a support system. It's enough to cover food, clothing, and a decent motel. You're not going to be living like the king you are, I'm afraid. It's a loan. Due back 180 days from today. Don't default. Take my word on that."

More than anything he'd wanted to throw the money back in his face, to tell him he didn't want or need his help, but without it, he wouldn't have even been able to afford a cab to take him away from that Godforsaken prison. He didn't have an option. He had to take the loan and now he owed them. He owed the place that had taken three years of his life from him. What the hell kind of logic was that?

Of course, if he was honest, it wasn't the state of Michigan. It wasn't the warden. It wasn't even the criminal justice system that deserved his rage. It was all the other petty, petulant assholes that had conveniently overlooked their own transgressions while lording his over him - people like Cane Ashby and Devon Hamilton that had a multitude of sins but somehow never seemed to be called upon to collect. It was the people in that town that had poisoned Avery against him, that had convinced her she was above him, and even worse, better off without him.

He had loved her, in the only way he knew how and he knew, in his heart, that she loved him too. That had been perhaps the hardest part about being in prison. He had no connections, no means of staying in touch or keeping tabs on the things and people that had become so important to him. With Avery, he wanted to see her, to explain, to make it better, but with the others, he had an entirely different plan. He had a score to settle and now was the perfect time. Having nothing to lose made risks a lot less frightening.

A slight puff of air exited his lips as the tv clicked on at the press of the remote. Somehow he'd expected it to be non functional, as decrepit as everything else in the room seemed to be. The woman at the anchor desk was droning on and on about stocks and investments as he slowly made his over to the thin mattress to kick off his shoes. It was the name that caught his attention first.

"Jabot Cosmetics declined to issue a statement regarding the case, but WWMT has learned that the charges against the company's CEO, Phyllis Summers, have been dropped. As always if we receive more information, we'll pass it on. In other business news …"

Joe Clark sat up straight, the murky plans that had been ruminating in his head now completely clear. He wasn't sure how he was going to find Avery. He wasn't sure how he was going to make Devon and Cane pay for the hell they'd made of his life. He wasn't even sure how he was going to rebuild himself and make everyone see that they hadn't broke him, but he did know one thing for sure – the woman that would help him do it was the CEO of a major corporation. Phyllis Summers had always intrigued him and he was about to pay her a visit she wouldn't forget.

"It's a PR nightmare." Jack stood in front of the desk, lips pressed tight as he looked down at her. "We're not talking a few stories on the local news, Phyllis. We're talking national coverage here. The entire country is talking about the company who has a CEO with a pending murder charge."

"The charges were dropped," she protested. "If anyone is reporting current charges, send them straight to legal and we'll sue them for …"

"Is this a joke to you?" Billy barked at her from behind his brother. "You honestly don't see how serious this is? We're a company that relies on our customer's ability to trust us. They need to believe that we are honest and that we have integrity and that when they buy a product from us that it will do what we say it will do. How are they supposed to believe what we say when our CEO is being investigated for God knows what and …"

"Are you honestly standing there taking the moral high ground with me?" She stood now, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him. "Because I'm not really sure you want to keep going on that particular road."

He understood the unspoken, but clearly veiled threat. "I'm just making an observation. I don't think it's a great look for our CEO to be projecting a less than honorable image."

"Because our last CEO was a pillar of virtue?"

"Maybe the two of you could do this later?" Jack interrupted them as his eyes moved back and forth between the two. "This is about our father's company, Billy. It's a little bit more important than you one upping her."

"That's not what I'm trying to do here, Jack."

"The hell it isn't," Phyllis muttered.

"Look," Jack said solemnly. "I need to be honest with you. I think you deserve that much. I know you're talented. No one is denying that, but this company matters to me. It means something to me. It's my family's legacy and …"

"And you don't think it means anything to me?"

"I think your entire purpose in doing this is about proving something to me and to Billy and to whoever else you're convinced doesn't believe in you, but no … I don't think this is about honoring John Abbott's legacy to you. But no matter what, I don't think you're the right person to be running this company. I'm not saying you can't. I'm not saying you're not capable, but I am saying I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that the right person gets back behind that desk."

Phyllis stilled. "And what exactly does that mean, Jack?"

"It means I'm being straightforward with you. It means I'm not going behind your back."

"That's nice," she huffed. "What was that a little dig? Another one of your barbs, letting me know that you're being honest like I wasn't?"

"You're picking the wrong enemies here, Phyllis. This isn't a lynch mob. I'm not putting the knife in your back. I'm coming straight for you. I'll do everything I can to get back in that chair, even if that means I have to throw you out of it."