Sunshine has never felt so good. Sure, I’ve been outside plenty of times in the past eighteen months and felt its warmth. But sunshine feels different now that I’m finally walking away from the pen that’s confined me for so damn long. Tastes different, even. The feeling of freedom blankets my body and I let it soak into every part of me.
“What are you doing?”
Tilting my head back down, I squint to find Sam leaning against the back of her car. A tiny smile tugs at her pursed lips as she gazes at me from behind her sunglasses.
Shrugging, I say, “Just taking a moment to let it sink in.”
She nods as if she understands. No one can really understand what it’s like to be in prison unless they’ve been there themselves. But I don’t hold it against her, considering she’s one of the only people besides my brother who came to visit me.
The reminder makes my teeth grit together.
I won’t lie. At first, her visits made me mad, but Sam didn’t care. She kept coming. After a few months of her visiting once every four weeks, I gave in and decided that having someone give a shit about me wasn’t something I should feel annoyed or gripe about. She said I could use a friend, and though I didn’t care too much for friends at the time, I guess she had a point.
Especially seeing as a certain brown-eyed woman never bothered to put a stop to my endless waiting. She never showed. Not once.
Anger scorches a blazing trail through my body. My spine steels; my fists clench. The sound of the bag in my hand crinkling and Sam’s voice have me taking a deep breath as I try to let some of the tension go.
“How’s it feel, being out?” She holds a hand over her head, trying to block the sun from creeping in between her sunglasses and eyes.
That ever-present sting won’t let up, but I give Sam my best attempt at a smile. “Surreal, and like it’s about damn time.”
She straightens from the car and walks over to me with her hips swaying. I swallow and glance away. “I thought I told you that Jared was picking me up.” Surveying the lot, I find scattered cars, but none of them familiar.
She stops in front of me, the smell of her perfume traveling into my nose. “I know, but I wanted to see you just in case you changed your mind.”
Her softer tone has me looking back down at her. I know why she’s really here. And even though going to find them is all I’ve been thinking about doing for the past three weeks, now that I’m actually free, I’m not so sure I can. For fear of what I’ll find, or what I’ll do.
But the fact Sam wants to prolong it? Yeah, that grates something fierce.
She knows. Damn it, she fucking knows I’m not cut out for anything with her or anyone else. Yet she keeps putting herself in front of me once a month to tempt me, trying to make me cave.
A part of me wants to just say fuck it and give in. That angry, hurt, starving part of me.
But the rest of me is too busy longing for the other half of my heart, so I never do.
Tires crunching over the gravel lot have my eyes swinging away from Sam and landing on a beat-up truck. Good thing, too. A guy can only ignore a broken heart for so long before the temptation to put a Band-Aid over it starts looking good. Even if it is only for a couple of hours.
“Sam …” I start.
“It’s fine.” She holds up a hand. “Go with him. I’ll come see you later?”
“I have no idea what I’ll be doing.”
Her shoulders lift. “That’s okay. I’ll come find you soon, Lix.”
She’s always called me that. I’ve never had the heart to tell her that I fucking hate the nickname.
“Yo, felon!” Jared hollers, slamming the truck door and walking over. A huge grin is plastered on his face, but it slowly falls when he sees who I’m standing with. He stops, looks at me, then looks at Sam.
Sam clears her throat. “I’ll see you later.” After giving Jared a wave, she walks back to her car.
Jared waits until she’s driving out of the lot before starting in with the questions. “What the actual fuck, man?”
“Don’t give me shit, kid. Let’s just get out of here.” I start walking to the truck, noticing that he left the spitfire at home.
When he first brought her to see me, I couldn’t believe he’d landed some rich, snotty socialite and managed to make her his. But she makes him happier than I’ve ever seen him, so I don’t particularly give a fuck if she’s a bit of a bitch.
“Hang on a damn minute.” Jared catches up to me while I’m opening the door. I don’t wait; I want away from this shithole as soon as possible, so I dump my bag on the floor of the truck and close the door.
He curses, climbing back in the driver’s seat and starting the truck. “Sam? Why the hell was she here?” He lights a cigarette and heads out of the lot. I snatch his pack from the dash, lighting one for myself. I quit years ago, but fuck it, I feel like one.
I cough as soon as I inhale the first drag, winding down the window and ignoring the chuckle from the shithead next to me.
“She visited me,” I finally say. “Every month.”
Jared’s silent for a while, then hums. “I see.” He flicks some ash out the window. “And Maggie didn’t.”
Fucker. He’s right, but that doesn’t mean anything’s going on. I tell him as much, and he just laughs. “Yeah, for now. Stay away from her, man; she’s like a rash you’ve had for over a decade. Time to take a bath and swipe some lotion over that shit. Get rid of it once and for all.”
That makes me laugh. I start coughing again, smoke leaving my mouth and stinging my eyes.
“You’re a dickhead.”
He shrugs, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You know I’m right, though. You’ve got other shit to focus on; you don’t need her messing anything up for you.”
Again, he’s right. I’ve got so much shit to focus on that I can almost feel it strangling me. I run a hand over my scruff, wondering where the fuck I’m gonna start.
“The shop need me?”
He guffaws. “Your shop too, dude. Of course, it does.”
That makes me feel marginally better. Getting a job is hard enough, but getting one after doing time could prove impossible.
“Can’t believe you’re finally out. Fuck, you must feel so relieved.”
I do. But I don’t. At least behind bars, I had a way of dodging the mess I’d left behind. Now, not so much. It’s time to try to fix it. The only problem is, I don’t know how I’ll ever get past what she’s done. Or what to even do about it all. I know I messed up in a fucking spectacular way, but damn, to keep my son from me? I just don’t understand how she could hate me that much.
Anger fuels the words that leave my mouth next. “Relieved isn’t exactly how I’m feeling right now.” I sigh, trying to rein it in. “But yeah, I’m not fucking mad about being out. I think the sound of old Barry’s snoring and him jerking off in the bunk above me will take years to wipe from my memory.”
Jared laughs. “At least he never tried any funny shit.” He glances over at me. “Though you’re not exactly an easy target.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I huff out a laugh of my own and finish my cigarette before flicking it out the window.
Being locked up wasn’t exactly a cakewalk. Those first few months were spent with my eyes constantly open, and it took three fights for a few assholes to finally see I wouldn’t be taking any shit. People left me alone after that. It was boring and depressing as fuck, but I’d rather be bored than get in trouble and have my parole denied.
Which reminds me. “I’m going to need to see my parole officer before I can do anything.”
Jared nods. “Well, we’ll get you sorted out. Then you can go find that nephew of mine.”
Right. My son. I have a son I’ve never met. Only a worn-out picture of a wrinkle-faced newborn that I’ve looked at so many times, it’s imprinted on my brain for life. Jared said the picture was left in an unmarked envelope in our mailbox, and he brought it to me months ago.
He’d look much different now. If I’m guessing right, he’s gotta be at least twelve or thirteen months old.
I stare out the window, one tree joining the next in a myriad of brown and green. But all I can see is my kid’s face and the face of the woman who not only broke my fucking heart but also kept him from me.
What the hell is she thinking?
My Little Doe should know better than to think she can hide from me.