CHICAGO BULLOCK: LOVE & PAIN

PROLOGUE

Seven years ago...

Chicago was dressed in a nice black suit and white shirt as he signs the final documents for his release. The chief of commander for the NYPD was also present. He did not look impressed at all to see the man being released eighteen years before his complete sentence of twenty-five years. But that is what happens with people like Chicago who had connections to get them out as if they deserved it.

"Men like you don't stay out for too long," commander Hugh spoke as Chicago slips his Armani watch on.

"I don't think this is a place I'd like to visit soon," Chicago drawled in a much deeper voice than it was years back.

Chicago had grown a lot this past seven years. Grown taller and was more calculative with his thinking. Being locked up with other criminals does make one to toughen up, so physically he was a lot stronger too. He even got his back covered with tattoos and he loved his new look.

"Perhaps you should try to confine by the law," a blonde police officer spoke up.

Chicago's eyes swept her body up and down, making the woman blush out of embarassment and being shy. She was less over twenty-three, Chicago could tell. He looked back in her blue eyes eyes as she nibbled her thin pink lips.

"I'll try lil missy," he said, flashing her his charming smile.

When the police's blush grew to her ears, Chicago found it satisfying to know his smile still left an effect on his subjects.

"That's all there is to it. You are a free man now Mr. Bullock," commander Hugh announced as he pushed a bag with Chicago's few possessions in it.

Chicago grabbed the grey bag, as the male officer who was silent the entire time opens the door for him. Walking down the dark corridors felt almost unreal to Chicago. It's been seven years since he lost his freedom and finally he was heading home. Home? He didn't even know what that meant anymore.

He stopped abruptly as soon as he stepped outside, looking around at the dusty area, and taking in the exhausted pipe scent that lingered in the air.

"Having a second thought about going out there? Scared the world won't accept you?" The policeman chuckled, his hand for some reason lingering above his gun that was secured on his waist in it patch.

Chicago snorted. The least of his worries was being accepted by the world. He was more than happy to gain his freedom, although he was unsure of how it was going to be without Neo. He was practically alone.

When the gates opened, Chicago spotted the black Royce Rolls that was parked there. As the gates closed behind him, the window rolled down showing Vincent's face. To say he was not shocked nor terrified to see the man would be a blunt lie.

"I thought you might need a ride home," he said, beckoning him to get in the car.

Chicago's heart was beating miles an hour even though he appeared calm. As he sat down with his bag of items on his lap, he could not help but to get anxious.

"You look good. I'm glad you've kept in shape," Vincent drawled out in his rusty Russian accent.

Then silence just dwelt around them as the car drove further and further away from the correctional facility.