bunk in my empty cell again and again. I don’t want to treat her like a yo-yo, but my whole damn life has turned into one, and I’m not holding the strings. She doesn’t deserve that.
She deserves to be out there making her dreams come true. Some asshole wants to help her… He probably wants to sleep with her, too. My throat tightens and I lift the metal bed, shoving it hard against the wall with a growl. Sending her to him makes me crazy with rage, but it’s her second chance. She’s got to take it.
As an added layer of insurance, I ask the guard, I think his name is Mel, to remove her name from my visitors list. Scout must have added it, because I never did. It’s like pouring acid on a wound, but it’s the only way I can be sure she doesn’t come back and try to see me again. I’m not strong enough to send her away a third time.
It would be the most selfish thing I ever did.
Walking away from her was like giving up on my life. It was letting go of my hope.
It’s resigning myself to being stuck in this place as long as the judge says, and then when I finally get out, I’ll have a whole host of new hassles to deal with.
Still, it’s the right thing to do. I knew it when those cops slapped the cuffs on my wrists. I knew it when that bootheel ground my phone into the floor. No more wishing on stars. I have to put my head down and do the time. Fair or not, this is where I am.
My next call will be to my brother. Somebody has to take care of Jesse.
When I called Scout, he filled me in on the details of what happened. It was basically what Hope said. He told me she left, and he tried to get me to tell him why. I told him to go home to Jesse, tell my son I love him and it’s breaking my heart not to be there.
Another week passes. Another week of my life I’ll never get back.
I watch the news until I can’t listen to it any more. I don’t need assholes telling me cops can be assholes. No shit, Sherlock.
I lift weights. I read, and every day I walk around the yard for the two hours they give us as recreation. Only a handful of inmates are allowed out at a time, and we’re all sectioned off.
I never made friends or had a group on the inside, so I’m fine keeping my distance. Walking to the chain-link fence, I look out towards the water. When I was in here before, somehow it was easier. I was fueled by rage and so focused on getting answers and making people pay. My entire mindset was on my dad and his part in putting me here.
Now I know the truth, and it’s harder than it was before. It’s like a fucking soap opera, where I got caught on the wrong side of the aisle. If it weren’t so fucking stupid, I’d laugh. Or maybe I’d cry.
“I’ve known a lot of guys in here say they were innocent.”
I’m lying on the bottom bunk of the metal beds in my room, and I look up to see Mel the Guard speaking to me. It’s quiet and boring in here, so I answer.
“That so?”
“Yeah. This one guy Levi said he fell asleep in the backseat of his cousin’s coupe. Woke up and the cousin was armed robbing a 7-Eleven.”
“Let me guess.” I shift to my side, not sure I want this kind of camaraderie.
“He got sentenced to life. Accessory to first-degree murder. The cousin shot the clerk in the face.”
“Jesus.” I shake my head, realizing it could be worse. I’m only on the hook for two to four more years, which is a lot, but shit.
We’re quiet a little while. I look at the book I’ve been reading, something about the Vietnam war protests in the 1960s.
“Of the guys who claim they’re innocent, the ones who do best, are the ones who don’t give up and don’t get hard.”
I exhale a laugh. “Easy for you to say.”
“I know.” Mel nods, going down the short passage. “But I see you. I know you.” His hand slides over the light switch. “I’m on your side.”
It’s lights out, and I lie in bed thinking about what he said. I want to be encouraged, but guards