Chapter 3:

A/N: Sorry! I was in a kind of depressed state where I gave up the will to write.. then I kidnapped it-my will .. and my muse.. LOL. I know it's short and probably REALLY confusing, but sorry! ..

He was on the run. A while ago, he had discarded the orange jumpsuit that screamed prison and had thrown on some street clothes. Escape from parole…how many years added if they catch me? He needed to get away from that hellhole. He was meant to stay for 10 more years for child molesting, but had switched with another inmate who had been released on good behavior and was working for a small wage for the prison under the close eye of the parolees. Stupid parole…we all look the same to him…the switch was so simple…I still can't believe how easy it was…complete idiots…we're too smart for them. They do say silence is a virtue and that was my one-way ticket out… or really his… Silence just means that we are thinking and a thinking prisoner is never a good sign…probably forming a plan of attack…like we were. I mean I don't think they'd every let someone like me out before I completely served my time. The man grinned. He loved her and she turned her back on him, what, because alcohol turns men into animals. She'll get what she deserves. Last time it was her arm, this time it'll be her life.

A cool breeze swept past, making the waves of heat he was sprinting through seem less intense. He was nearly out of the most morose areas of Miami, the Everglades. Several prisoners on parole had been sent there to help clear out the portion of it granted to the state of Florida and make it inhabitable. He could care less about the animals or humans; all the 'job' did was provide him with some extra cash and something to pass away the time. A gun too, which he stole off an officer after bludgeoning him with a three-point-five iron pipe.

Once he hit the streets of Miami, he knew exactly what he needed to do. He was prepared and was well aware of all the necessary precautions he had to take. Too bad no kids involved. As much as he wanted to exact revenge for his friend, he wanted a kid, but he couldn't screw this 'mission' up. I make a mistake and he'll kill me. He was willing to wait for the opportune moment, but not too long. I really want to go to a school yard and find some kid… but after that woman. What's two more murders on my rap sheet?

The only thing separating the two men was a thin piece of glass. Only about eight or so years apart, the older man, with sunglasses to temporarily conceal his identity from the younger man, showed more obvious signs of graying hair. The younger man had on a orange jumpsuit with the name Larry Miller stitched in black thread over his heart. He took no interest in the older man, but the guard had given them twenty minutes of personal time.

"Luke," said the older man tauntingly in a low gruff voice. "You shouldn't have let him go. You should have done the job yourself." He grinned maliciously at how restless and agitated he was making the younger man, but inside he was infuriated. STUPID! It's going to be ten more years when the police find out. I should know; I went through it!

"Look man, I don't know who you think I am," said the aggravated young man, "but the name is Larry Miller." He pointed to the name on his jumpsuit to emphasize his point.

"Of course it is." The older man chuckled at the young rebellious man. I remember those days; I was so ignorant for an inmate. "What then would be your opinion on, oh let's say, Natalia Boa Vista?" Behind the sunglasses, his eyes sparkled as he anticipated the upcoming response.

"That bitch." The younger man's voice held a venomous tone.

"And," the older man gestured casually to the other man's name tag, "why would Larry Miller say something like that?"

'Larry' gritted his teeth in fury. He had been caught in a lie. "Who the hell are you?"

The older man chuckled once more. "I've been waiting for you to ask." He took his sunglasses off.

"Oh shit!" The younger man fell off his seat in a heap. He had seen what appeared to be an older mirror image of himself. Impossible, this has got to be some kind of sick joke. It just has to be.

A/N: Right… so I kinda wrote this idea before the 100th episode aired. So, think of Luke as you would Nick… creepy…really creepy… XD…