Chapter Ten #3
The guard awkwardly waits for me to follow him, but it’s hard to walk without the pain crippling me. As I pass by the other cells, I keep my posture straight, attempting to look stronger than I feel. I may be broken, but I refuse to let the others see it.
The walk to the visitation room seems to take eons. Years ago, people would be separated by Plexi-glass and talk on phones. Now we talk through computer screens.
The guard motions for me to sit in one of the chairs, and I wait for the screen to connect.
My anxiety eases when I see my two best friends sitting there, with a combination of concerned smiles and anger burning in their eyes.
A grin stretches across my face before I can stop it, splitting my lip open again. I taste the blood instantly but ignore it. Seeing them sitting on the other side of the screen hits me harder than any punch I took last night. Last time I was here, so were they. Now I have no one.
I sink even further into the chair, my bulky form filling the screen. The fluorescent lights reflect off the monitor, making everything feel colder and harsher.
I grab the phone and motion for them to do the same.
“Boys. Long time no see, not that I’m seeing much of anything right now.”
My laugh escapes too easily, and the second I move, pain stabs me through my ribcage. I wince, shifting my weight to favor my right side.
Eddie’s face tightens into a scowl.
“You look like hell. What the fuck happened? I know that guy only got in one punch, and it wasn’t good. So, why do you look like you just got out of a boxing ring?”
I smirk because that’s easier than honesty.
“You should see the other guys.”
Rich leans closer. “Who did this to you?”
I shrug like it doesn’t matter. Like my bones weren’t rearranged in a matter of seconds.
“Some people I shouldn’t have fucked with. Don’t worry, I haven’t dropped the soap, but my asshole’s virginity is being auctioned off as we speak. I think I heard someone say we were up to five packs.”
Eddie’s eyes widen.
“Dude, I hope you’re fucking with me. I swear if anyone touches you again…”
“You’ll what? I’m in here, and you’re out there, Eddie. I’m okay. I promise. I can hold my own in here.”
Mostly.
Rich glances at one of the guards standing to his right, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
“What are they saying?”
Instantly, the humor in me is gone. My fingers tighten around the receiver, thumb dragging slowly along the cord.
“They’re throwing the book at me.” The words taste bitter. “The DA wants to make an example out of me. Aggravated assault. Resisting arrest. They’re talking about adding intent to maim, too.”
Eddie’s brow scrunches together, and he sighs. “Intent to maim?”
I nod. “Said the guy needed a CT scan. His orbital bone is shattered. He’s got memory loss, too, apparently.”
Rich’s jaw tightens.
“How long?”
I swallow.
“Minimum of three years. Could be more, depending on how the charges stack. You know my record.”
Their silence becomes heavy and suffocating.
I watch the realization crawl across their faces, that number landing like a bomb.
Eddie presses his forehead against the screen.
“No. This isn’t right. He touched her. You were only defending Poppy—”
“That shit doesn’t matter.” Even I can hear the dejectedness in my tone.
“I don’t get to claim self-defense unless I’m bleeding too. They look at me, and they see someone who has already messed up twice. They’re not asking for my side of the story. They’re writing their own.”
Rich runs both hands through his hair.
“We’ll get you a real lawyer. Not one of those overworked public defenders who can’t remember your name.”
I shake my head slowly.
“Don’t waste the money. I’m not getting out of this one. I snapped, Rich. I lost fucking control. Doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t matter if it was for her or not. In their eyes, I’m no better than the caged animals already in here.”
The truth settles heavy in my chest.
But there’s one thing that matters more than any of it.
My eyes drift to Eddie. “Is Poppy okay?”
He nods.
“Physically, yeah, she’s fine. She’s a bit shaken up, though.”
Relief washes over me.
“I don’t blame her,” I mutter. “Even if she never looks at me again... I just didn’t want her to feel helpless. I couldn’t let that guy touch her like that.”
Rich studies me carefully.
“What the fuck happened? What made you snap like that?”
My jaw tightens.
“She clearly told him no. Then his grubby paws were all over her, trying to force her to dance with him. You know how I feel about that shit. After what happened to my sister, I’ll never let another woman get taken advantage of like that. The second I saw him touch her; the guy’s fate was sealed.”
Tears prick my eyes as my little sister’s face flashes in my mind.
She was sixteen when it happened. She came to my door begging me for help, her dress shredded to pieces, precious parts of her exposed to the cold, unforgiving air.
She had a bloody lip, and scrapes and bruises forming up and down her bare arms and legs.
Her dark brown hair was haphazardly pulled out of her usually perfect braid, and she could barely speak or stand up straight.
The second she collapsed into my arms, she told me she was raped but refused to give me the guy’s name.
She wouldn’t even tell me where to find him.
Ashleigh just stood there, tears falling down her cheeks, clutching onto my shirt as she begged me not to tell our dad.
I didn’t, out of respect for her. But the urge to seek out the bastard who did it to her, and erase him from existence was hard to ignore.
I’d be doing life if I ever found out who he was.
Nobody harms someone I care about and gets away with it. Nobody.
“You don’t deserve this.” Eddie’s grip tightens around the phone as he meets my gaze through the screen.
“I do.”
Both seem surprised. They shouldn’t be.
“My rage continuously simmers beneath the surface. You may not see it, but I can feel it. It sears my bones, making me hollow and empty. The only time I feel worth something is when I’m around her. I just wish she could see how much I actually fucking love her.”
“You’re not alone,” Eddie growls. “We’re gonna do everything we can to get you out of here.”
“No,” I say sternly. “You’ve got a wedding coming up. You need to focus on Amber. Don’t let this drag you under.”
Eddie tenses. “You think I can walk down the aisle like none of this happened?”
“I think you’re gonna marry the love of your life,” I order, even though I’m acting stronger than I feel. “Let me have one good thing to believe in while in here. I’ll get out eventually, and when I do…”
“There’ll be a job waiting for you, and a bike ready for you to ride.”
“Seriously?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m serious. We’re doing this shit, Wesley. There’s a million miles of road waiting for us when you get out of here.”
Smiling, I settle back in my seat, liking the idea of riding down the road with the wind ripping through my hair, with my two best friends riding beside me. “Fuck, that sounds nice. Keep a beer cracked open for me too. I’m gonna suck that thing down so fucking hard when I’m out of here.”
Rich and Eddie lose it.
“What? What I say?”
“It’s just funny you worded it that way. Dad called you a fucking cocksucker for getting locked up.”
“Damn, your old man’s cold, Eddie. Tell him I love him too.”
Neither of them speaks.
They don’t need to; the pity in their eyes speaks for them.
A guard steps forward. “Two minutes, inmate.”
Time is the cruelest bastard alive.
I stand slowly, pain ricocheting through my ribs.
“I’m sorry. For everything. But especially for missing your wedding.”
Eddie’s brows pull together.
“You say it like you’re saying goodbye.”
I shrug.
“Maybe it is in a way. Once I get out of here, I plan to be a different man. This isn’t goodbye per se. This is a culling of bad habits and rotten decisions.”
Eddie’s jaw tightens.
“You better not fucking die in there, Wesley. You fucking beat the shit out of any motherfucker who dares to look at your ass wrong.”
I nod my head hesitantly.
“Don’t let this be the last time I see you. I can’t get through this without the two of you.”
Rich leans forward immediately.
“We got your back, Brother. Stay strong.”
I nod again, stepping backward toward the steel door.
“I’ll be fine. Just get our friend down that damn aisle so he can finally marry his girl. Don’t you guys put your lives on hold for me.”
I really hope they’re buying this bullshit I’m feeding them. They don’t need to feel my misery on top of everything else, not when Eddie is supposed to get married in a few weeks. “See you guys on the outside.”
The door shuts behind me.
And just like that, they’re gone, leaving me alone with the silence and the unbearable weight my future sentence will bring me.
When I get my second visitor later that day, I thought it would be my dad coming to tell me how disappointed he truly was with me. But it’s not him.
It’s someone I never expected. Poppy.
She gasps when I come into view; the tiny screen of the TV doesn’t hide the misery in her eyes, or the weight of everything sitting on her shoulders. Something’s up. That haunted look is back to torment her, and those dark circles she tries to hide behind foundation but fails.
She hesitates picking up the phone, worrying her lip with her teeth.
Indicating to the phone, I pick it up, waiting for her to make a move. Everything in me relaxes when her hand fits around the receiver and she pulls it up to her ear.
Awkward silence passes between us for far too long.
“You’re the last person I thought I’d see on the other side of this screen,” I finally mumble.
She lifts her head, the guilt hiding behind her unshed tears. “I just wanted to see how you are.”
“Living the dream,” I say, my tone more than a little irritated. It’s her fault that I’m even in here.
“I’m sorry, Wesley.”
“For what?”
She motions to the screen, to the guards, to the pale gray walls that signify a dismal existence behind bars and plated glass. “For this. For you ending up in here.”
I lean back in my chair with my arms crossed in anger as I shrug. “It was bound to happen.
Her brows pinch together. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?” My gaze hardens. “You’ve always thought it.”
She flinches. “I just wanted to say sorry,” she murmurs.
I tilt my head, studying her. “Letters would’ve done the same thing.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“I might’ve even believed it then.”
The silence that follows makes me even more on edge.
“I don’t have much time, Poppy. Say what you need to say and then get the fuck out of here.”
Her head snaps up before she glances toward the door, fingers fidgeting in her lap.
“I really am sorry, Wesley. I never meant for you to end up in jail. I just wanted…” Her voice filters to a soft whisper, but I already know the words she’s chewing on.
“To make me jealous,” I grit out.
She instantly straightens. “No!”
Smirking, I lean forward. “Deny it all you want, Poppy. But I was there that night, and I saw what happened. You were using that guy as a way to make me jealous. You were mad at me for dancing with the redhead, and you wanted to even the score.”
“I didn’t care about you and the redhead. She wasn’t even that cute.”
Liar.
She twitches ever so slightly and starts picking at her skin, fidgeting in her seat like she can’t sit still. Instantly, my hostility eases off a tad. “Does your family know about your recreational activities yet?”
She blinks, mouth slightly hanging open. “Wh-What the hell are you talking about?” she stutters out.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Poppy. You may be able to hide it from everyone else, but not from me. So do they know?”
Her eyes flash with indignation.
“You don’t get to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Sit there acting like you know me.” Her grip tightens around the receiver. “You have no idea what my life is like.”
I laugh under my breath, but there’s no humor in it.
“I’ve spent years watching you and studying you, Poppy. All your mannerisms and movements. You weren’t okay that night at the club, and you’re not okay now.”
She stills.
“You don’t know anything about me, Wesley Dover,” she whispers, each word short and trembling with anger. “Nothing. Don’t sit there trying to drag my name through the dirt like you.”
My brows lift.
“Like me?”
“Yes.” Her voice shakes. “I’m nothing like you.”
The words hit harder than they should, and I fucking snap.
“No, Poppy,” I say quietly. “You’re worse.”
Her eyes flare with both hostility and confusion.
“You pretend you’re this perfect little good girl.” I lean closer. “But something’s off. Your grades have slipped. You barely scraped into Stanford, and you look like you haven’t slept in weeks. That’s not the girl I grew up with.”
Something in her snaps.
“The girl you grew up with?” Her voice is vibrating with fury.
“She’s fucking grown up, Wesley. That girl has responsibilities now…
pressure… expectations you could never live up to or understand.
” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “But how would you know that? You’ve spent your entire life blaming everyone else for your fuckups. ”
My jaw locks into a scowl.
“I don’t blame—”
“Yes, you do,” she cuts me off, voice trembling. “You always do.”
We glare at each other through the glass, years of history and resentment cracking and fracturing between us like thin ice giving way.
“Well, at least I have people to turn to when life stresses me out. Unlike you, I don’t need pills to keep me going.”
Her mouth pulls into a sneer. “You know what? I don’t need this shit. Have fun rotting in prison,” she growls, pulling the receiver from her ear.
“Poppy!” I shout after her.
But she’s already gone, storming toward the door without a backward glance. Leaving me alone to chew on everything I didn’t say.
I didn’t even get to tell her that I love her… despite how much I fucking hate her right now.
Figures.
So what does a guy do after seeing the girl he loves for the last time? He goes to commissary, buys himself a pen and notebook and starts to write.