Chapter 28
Maynard
The next twenty-four hours was a blur.
The woman of my dreams had just gone into labor in a prison gymnasium. Claire frantically reached for me, but as the correction officers ran over, I knew I had to back away. Pulling away from Claire when she needed me most was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do.
Claire screamed my name as she was whisked from the large room. Two officers stood between us, making sure I didn't try to run after her. I could've gotten around them but at what cost?
I was about a month away from being completely free. If I fought this now they could charge me with an escape attempt and tack years onto my incarceration. I might not see our baby boy grow up at all. I balled my fists and cemented my feet to the ground. I couldn't go to her...
It felt like I was betraying her in every way possible.
It was only at that moment that I realized how far I'd fallen. Time Magazine declared me as one of the Top Ten Influential Men in the country, and I just stood there knowing that the most important event in my life would happen without me.
I promised her that she wouldn't be alone.
An overwhelming sense of powerlessness crashed down on me. I couldn't do anything as an inmate; that was the whole point of prison. I was buried under an avalanche of impotency that I might never recover from.
The silence in the room after she was removed haunted me. Everyone— the visitors, the inmates and even officers— held their tongues for a minute. There was no radio chatter, no slamming doors, nothing. There was only a shared sense of empathy at how fucked up this whole thing was.
I promised her.
“I'll never break a promise to her.” I told myself.
I refused to do nothing. Molten hot resolve pumped through my veins. Claire needed me.
I demanded to know where they were taking her. The nearest CO told me that she would be escorted to processing and then eventually shuttled off the Island to a hospital in Queens.
The senior officer stood by the inmate entrance with his arms crossed and a weary expression on his face. The hard lines on his forehead and scars on his arms told me that he'd worked here for an awfully long time.
Maybe too long, I thought as I approached him.
“I know you know who I am,” I told him, then glanced at his name tape. “Officer Nelson.”
It didn't matter that I was behind bars; power and influence could always find a way, especially in a place like this. Marco maintaining his connections even in solitary confinement showed me that.
Nelson raised a curious eyebrow then give a small nod. He squinted, wondering what I was getting at.
This was one of those life's crossroad decisions that I would always look back at. Bribing a corrections officer was a felony. If this man wasn't resourceful enough to handle my request I could offer him the moon and it wouldn't matter. If things went badly at this moment it could start a chain reaction that could make my stay here an indefinite one. I might never see Claire again, or ever meet our baby.
I will not let her go through this alone, I decided.
“Three million dollars—” I lowered my voice even further and cut right to it. “In your bank account tonight. Make sure she goes to the pregnancy unit in the woman's building, then get me in there for the night.”
There was a long pause as he considered my offer. Nelson could get in serious trouble if I were caught. However if I didn't get caught... “Four.”
“Five.” I upped the offer, then made my demand. “Make it happen. Right now.”
“Visitation is extended for an extra half hour,” the senior officer announced loudly, which drew cheers from most of the inmates and their significant others. He issued a series of orders to the other correction officers, then took me into the guard's office.
He handed me a confiscated cell phone and had me transfer the first million into his account before anything else happened. I told my assistant to retroactively set up a giveaway contest so the government could legally tax the senior officer's “winnings.” That would also make any other bribes easier to explain as well.
Nelson made a few calls, then had a spare guard's uniform brought in from somewhere. I quickly got changed, pulled my hat low as low as possible, then followed Nelson to catch Claire before she made it to processing.
Getting Claire out of the area wasn't an immediate thing, and that was by design. Rikers was an island prison on the East river with only one road that led to the mainland. Getting an ambulance here would take some time.
Nelson gave me an unnecessary warning about not trying anything then led me out of the gymnasium. It would have been easy to get rattled by every camera-monitored doorway we went through, but as long as everything went smoothly no one would ever have any reason to go back and study the footage.
We caught up to Claire in the parking lot near the building's main doors. Six months in a box made the outside so much more vivid. I wanted to just fall to my knees and soak it all in, but that would scream ‘suspicious’. I forced myself to refrain from enjoying the artificial moment of freedom.
Claire was being propped up by one of the two corrections officers. Tears streamed down her face. They told her to focus on her breathing and reassured her that she'd be getting medical help soon. Claire rocked back and forth, clutching her stomach. My heart sank to see her in so much pain.
“We'll take her from here,” Nelson grumbled, dismissing the men.
“You sure, Boss? I—” One of them looked at me curiously, trying to place my face. I'd be able to pass easier in the other buildings, but here, most of the guards worked together day-in and day-out. They all knew each other and, even worse, they all knew the billionaire in cell block C.
I didn't mind paying people off, but the more people that got involved, the more likely someone would either get scared, or want to brag about their windfall. The muscles in my arms began to flex: my fight or flight adrenaline rush was coming on. This situation would have to be resolved immediately or I was fucked.
“I didn't ask for your fucking opinion.” The senior officer growled, getting in the face of the man who was about to recognize me. “Now get the fuck back inside, Mendez.”
Both men straightened, then shuffled off, muttering under their breath at what a prick Nelson was. Right then I knew that I had made the right call throwing in with this man. We might actually pull this off.
I glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “Claire, it's me.”
“What?!” She whispered loudly in disbelief. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Probably.” I smiled. “But I made you a promise. I love you, Claire.”
“Oh my god,” Claire mouthed the words silently.
Claire was stunned; so was I, really. I didn't plan on saying it, it just came out.
The last person I told that to was my mother when I asked her and my father to come pick me up the night they died. Mom had always ended her calls with me by telling me she loved me and I responded with the same. She was the only person I ever did that with.
I thought it was silly and it diluted the term for me a little when I was young, but knowing that that was the last thing we said to each other made it special to me. So special, in fact, that I refused to say it to anyone since.
Telling Claire I loved her was a huge deal to me and one I didn't take lightly. If I had a fourth rule in my life it would've been to never say those three words to anyone ever again.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm sure the feeling's mutual,” the gruff senior officer interrupted. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
Nelson led us onto a small empty van that had just pulled up. He told the driver where to take us and we started making our way to the women's building. Nelson made small talk with the driver to keep the man's attention focused on him and not us.
Claire wasn't an inmate so I could sit next to her and not raise any suspicions. Labor cramps came and went, nearly doubling Claire over in the process. In the lull between contractions she took my hand and wrote out “I heart-symbol U” up my forearm.
I tugged at my hat and did my best to stifle a huge, warm smile.
Getting through the checkpoints of the women's prison and into the pregnancy ward with Claire was surprisingly easy. I helped Claire into a wheelchair and Nelson found a doctor to lead the way. Every time things even hinted at slowing down, Claire would scream in pain, and everyone else would just move out of the way.
The nurses had Claire's bed prepped when we arrived. I was worried that the pregnancy unit would be as filthy and run-down as the rest of the prison, but, to the NYC Department of Corrections credit, this unit was as clean and modern as a regular hospital. Once we got Claire onto the bed the doctor asked to have a word with Officer Nelson in private.
“Ugh, wait!” Claire protested loudly when we stepped out into the hall. It came out as the second half of a protracted labor scream. “Please. I don't want to be alone.”
“She's not an inmate,” Nelson told the doctor, then he cocked his head toward me. “The girl's scared, let the kid stay if it'll make her feel better.”
The doctor grimaced at the whole situation. “Fine,” She reluctantly agreed, waving me back into the room. “But you're going to tell me why the hell she's even here and not at St. Jude's in Queens.”
Nelson shot me a look that told me not to go anywhere, then disappeared with the doctor down the hall. I had no idea how he was going to explain the breach of protocol to the lady, but he had five-million reasons to make sure that she believed him.
There was nothing I could do about that now. I just had to trust that I made the right decision by enlisting his help. I took Claire's hand and told her that everything was going to be alright.
I stayed by Claire's side for fifteen long hours until our baby boy was born. He was a filthy, screaming, beautifully healthy mess of a child. I held him when the nurses weren't around.
Our son was eight pounds, five ounces. He had black hair and his mother's eyes. Occasionally his mouth twisted into a shit-eating grin that I instantly knew he'd gotten from me.
“Marcus Edward Tremont,” I frowned, cradling the boy in my arms.
“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, waking up from a fitfully short nap. “You don't like the name Mark?”
The name was her grandfather's. He was an auto mechanic, and a big part of Claire's life growing up. From everything she told me about him, Mark sounded like an honest, salt-of-the-earth kind-of guy. Unfortunately he died a few years ago, which was a real shame because I would've loved to have met him.
“His first and middle name are fine.” My voice caused the baby to stir, but I gently rocked him back to sleep. “It's the last name that needs to change.”
Claire was exhausted mentally and physically, confusion marred her features. Then, like a rusted gear that finally clicked in to place and started to spin, her face lit up. “Are you—”
I looked at her lying in bed, covered in an ugly hospital gown. Her blond hair was a matted, disheveled nest, and the lines in her face showed her lack of sleep. I was wrong earlier in the gym when I said that she never looked better.
“Asking you to marry me? Yes I am.” I smiled. “Well?”
“Yes,” Claire whispered, starting to cry again. She wore the biggest smile I'd ever seen. “You're getting so much better at this.”
“Yeah, imagine what kind of fiancé I'll be once I actually get out of prison.” I sat on her bed. Claire laughed as I kissed her. She wrapped her arms around me and all three of us embraced as a family for the first time.
God, I could get used to this.