2000
“How come she didn’t take me?” Jason asked, crestfallen, after his father had sat him down and explained that Ginny was going to be helping Carter with the animals while her husband was out of town. “I like to help at Aunt Carter’s, and besides, it’s summer. I don’t have school tomorrow.”
“Because you and I have to go for a motorcycle ride.” Tommy gave him a smile.
Jason’s face lit up. “I almost forgot! Can we go for a long ride, Dad? I like when we go on the motorcycle.”
“Sure, kiddo. We can go for a long ride.”
Tommy knew Mimi wouldn’t be coming home until much later, and quite frankly, he wasn’t up to the mental challenge needed to spend the next several hours alone with Jason. The boy was a chatterbox, pretty much like he was at his same age. He smiled as he remembered how Grizz would purposely take him places on the motorcycle so he could avoid conversation.
Thirty minutes later, Jason propped up behind him on the motorcycle, the wind in their face and the sun on their arms, Jason leaned up and yelled something into Tommy’s ear. Tommy nodded and felt Jason lean back on the bike.
He remembered when Ginny got pregnant with Jason. They’d been married just over four years. Before the trial, they never consummated their marriage. It was more than a year after the trial before she actually let Tommy touch her. When she had, it had been better than they’d both imagined.
One morning, he woke up next to her. It was a bright, sunny morning, he remembered, and she’d had her back to him. He could tell she was having a dream. She woke and rose up a bit, looking over her shoulder.
“Oh, thank goodness it was just a dream!” she said, her hair tangled and messy yet somehow perfect. He caught his breath to look at her. “I was so angry at you, Tommy!”
“Me?” He smiled at her and caressed her back. “What were you mad at me for?”
She rolled onto her back and looked at him. He rested his hand on her stomach. The baby was due in five weeks.
“I was dreaming I was in labor.” She closed her eyes, then opened them to glare at him. “It was this long, horrible labor, and you were behind me and encouraging me to push.”
”Sounds good to me so far, except for the long and horrible labor part.”
She frowned at him then. “It was good, even though it hurt, until the baby came out.”
“Was something wrong with him?” He could hear the concern in his own voice.
“There was something wrong, all right. The doctor said, ‘Look! Congratulations! You have a brand new spaghetti pot!’”
Tommy burst out laughing, just couldn’t help himself. “You gave birth to a spaghetti pot? Your hormones are raging, Ginny!” She huffed and crossed her arms. “I swear you are having the strangest dreams. This is the third weird one this week.”
“Yes, it was a gigantic, stupid pot. Must have been in my subconscious because I remember telling you last week I needed a new one.”
“But, Gin, in the dream, why were you mad at me?”
“Because I was upset and told the doctor I was disappointed and was really looking forward to having a baby!”
“And?”
“And you chimed in, ‘It’s okay, Gin, we really need a spaghetti pot. We’ll try for a baby next time.’”
Harder laughter shook him again. “Oh, Ginny, I’m sure you’ll be having a baby. And you know what? I’ll run over to the store today and buy you your spaghetti pot so you won’t have to dream about it anymore.”
He kissed her forehead and she smiled at him, the silly dream forgotten.
“You are so good to me, Tommy,” she said, a serious tone to her voice. Then her eyes widened, and she started to sit up.
Tommy’s worried expression matched her own. “Gin, are you okay?”
“Tommy, it’s too early!” Her voice sounded panicked now. “My water just broke!”
They’d been so worried back then—Jason was five weeks early, and Ginny ended up having a twelve-hour labor, somehow avoiding another C-section. She was sent home after twenty-four hours, but preemie Jason spent a week in the NICU just as a precaution. He was fine, but Tommy remembered the fear like it was yesterday.
Now on the back of the bike, Jason squeezed his dad while he leaned up to yell something in his ear about the scenery.
Tommy smiled as he navigated the two-lane road, the hot sun blazing all around them. Jason had ended up just fine. Maybe he and Ginny would, too.
**********
Neither one of them knew that while Ginny was still in the hospital and they were both visiting their newborn son in the NICU, five hours away in a maximum security prison, someone was handing a note to Grizz.
Grizz had been in the yard lifting weights. “Dreams I’ll Never See” by Molly Hatchet, was playing over the prison’s outdoor sound system.
One of the guards walked up and handed him the paper. “This is for you.”
Grizz took the note and opened it. His posture changed as he read it. Two sentences were written: It’s a boy. She’s okay.
He crumpled up the note, anger coursing through him. As he left the exercise yard, the lyrics to the song taunted him. He wanted to punch the singer, the prison guard, anybody and everybody who stood in his way.
He’d been even angrier when he first found out she was pregnant. He’d insisted on a face-to-face meeting with Grunt. It took every ounce of willpower not to beat the shit out of him that day.
Grunt was able to talk some sense into him. He told Grizz it was unrealistic to think he wouldn’t eventually be sleeping with his own wife, that Grizz had known this was coming and had even given his permission. His orders, actually. But somehow, Grizz had naively held onto the notion that Kit would resist Grunt forever, like she had resisted the idea when Grizz first told her to marry him.
She never let Grunt move into their home in Shady Ranches after the marriage. Even after Mimi was born, Kit had to be convinced to finally move into the home that Grunt had built for her in northern Fort Lauderdale. Grizz stiffened as he remembered the day he had to tell her he didn’t want his daughter to know him. That Kit had to stop coming to the prison to see him.
Grizz wanted to believe deep down that no matter how much Grunt had always loved Kit, she didn’t and wouldn’t ever feel the same way. Of course she loved Grunt. Grizz could admit that and even wanted that for her. But up until the pregnancy, he had stupidly hoped it was in a platonic and sisterly way. He could even allow himself to imagine Kit being in a happy and comfortable marriage. But he didn’t want her in a passionate one.
When he’d heard she was pregnant, something inside him died. He knew then that it was not just a comfortable marriage based on convenience. He knew she had given herself over to Grunt.
He wanted to punch Grunt. Punch everybody.
But who could blame her? He was the one who’d told her to marry Grunt. He had to tell her that. It was part of the deal he’d made with them.
Grunt’s words from that meeting filled his head: “If you really love her, you’ll let her have a real life with me. Not the fake one you thought I was giving her because she still loved you. You’re on death row, Grizz. You should be relieved to know she is genuinely loved and is able to love back.” Grunt’s words had softened then. “And don’t forget—you were there the night your daughter was born. You were able to be part of it. At least you have that, Grizz. A lot of guys in your position wouldn’t have been able to have done that.”
As much as he’d hated to admit it, Grunt was right. But Grizz was still deeply in love with Kit. And the fact that she gave birth to a son that should have been his—would’ve been his, if it wasn’t for the fucking son-of-a-bitch that hooked up with Blue’s slut wife and Froggy— infuriated him beyond reason.
He knew early on that Jan didn’t have the brains to pull off his arrest alone. Someone had used her. He was pretty certain he knew who it was, and he was patiently waiting for Blue to find Jan and Froggy so he could confirm it and put all three of them in the ground. He’d given the order to look for Froggy. He didn’t have to tell Blue to find Jan. Blue would never stop looking for his boys.
Grizz knew he could ask them for help, but he wouldn’t. They were the real reason he was sitting on death row.
He’d been playing cat and mouse with them for as long as he could remember. They’d insisted they had nothing to do with his arrest and conviction, but Grizz didn’t believe them. Not for a minute. Besides, they could’ve stepped in and stopped it. He’d finally agreed to give them what they wanted. But still they were fucking with him. Making him pay for holding back for so many years.
Motherfuckers.
For now, he would seek out one of the guards and get access to one Robert Raymond Ringer. He smiled darkly as he pictured the guy, his fat neck and his stupid flat-blue eyes. Ringer was in solitary confinement. He wasn’t your typical baby killer scum—he’d gotten two for one. A serial killer who got off by preying on pregnant women. Grizz quickened his pace, eager to release his anger. Pregnant women? What the fuck? Ringer couldn’t be kept with the other prisoners for obvious reasons. Nobody could tolerate a baby killer, he didn’t care how bad their crime.
Grizz was in the mood to kill someone with his bare hands and he couldn’t think of another prisoner who deserved it more than Bobby Ray Ringer.