Chapter Twenty #2
The woman beside him glances up at me before clearing her throat to speak. “It states in these court documents that the prosecution proposed an additional charge of intent to maim, but it was later dropped due to a lack of evidence.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The commissioner talks over her, regaining the floor. “The assault occurred after an altercation inside a nightclub, where the victim sustained multiple injuries that were deemed non-life threatening at the time, is that correct?”
I nod once.
“Yes, sir.”
Another commissioner flips through the file in front of him and stops on a page that makes his head shoot up as a look of concern appears in his eyes.
“This report states the altercation began after the victim made unwanted physical contact with a woman you were acquainted with.”
“Yes, sir. She told the man to stop touching her and when he wouldn’t, things escalated quickly.”
The room goes silent, before the commissioner nods his head. “Prior to this conviction, you had several arrests tied to vehicle theft and possession of stolen property, is that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
The gray-haired man at the end of the table folds his hands in front of him and leans forward.
“Mr. Dover, the court record indicates the judge considered that history when imposing the five-year sentence, along with your specialized training in both martial arts and boxing, indicating that the force used during the altercation was excessive and resulted in injuries that wouldn’t normally be acquired during a physical altercation. ”
“That’s what they say.”
The woman studies me over the rim of her glasses. Her large nose hooks downward, almost like a beak, those brown eyes studying me for more of a reaction.
“But since your incarceration, your institutional record has been… unusually clean,” she remarks as the man in the middle flips to another page.
“No disciplinary infractions in three years,” he adds, flipping to another page. “And you completed the necessary anger management and behavioral counseling that was suggested by the court while also working in the prison library for over a year.”
“Yes, sir.”
The gray-haired man leans forward again, forcing streaks of silver follicles to gleam in the overhead light.
“According to correctional staff, you were severely assaulted by other inmates approximately one year and nine months ago.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And during the altercation, you sustained life-threatening injuries.”
“I did.”
They share a look before one of them speaks. “Since your recovery,” he continues, “staff has noted that your behavior has remained exemplary.”
I keep my hands folded in front of me, trying my best not to freak out or hope for anything.
“Yes, sir.”
The woman taps her pen against her lips, her eyes narrowing. “Why is that, Mr. Dover? Why the change?”
I look at her, doing whatever I can to keep from hyperventilating. My lungs may be better, but I still don’t like getting them too worked up.
I take a slow breath. “Almost dying tends to make a man reevaluate things.” There’s no sarcasm or attitude in my tone, just the stone-cold truth.
“When you spend weeks in a hospital bed wondering if you're ever going to walk again,” I continue, “you start thinking about what kind of life you want when you get out.”
“And what does that look like for you?” she asks.
“I just want a peaceful life, ma’am. One that’s shared with family and friends.
My goal is to work toward a future that I can’t explore behind these walls, one involving stability and marriage someday.
” My thoughts instantly drift to Poppy, wondering if she’s even still alive?
“I don’t want to waste a second chance.”
The man in the center folds his hands together.
“You know that this hearing is because you’re eligible for parole after serving three years of your five-year sentence.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And we have it in good faith, that you have a verified job offer with a mechanic’s shop and tow yard in Fernley, is that correct?”
Thank God for good friends.
“Yes, sir.”
“You also have confirmed housing with family?” Family doesn’t have to be blood. Rich says there’s plenty of room for me at the clubhouse when I get out of here.
“Yes, sir.”
He studies me carefully.
“Mr. Dover, do you accept responsibility for the actions that led to your incarceration?”
I don’t even hesitate this time. “Yes, sir, I do.”
The woman clears her throat, asking for the floor. “Would you handle that situation differently today?”
I think about the night at the club, how that asshole grabbed Poppy, and the sound his jaw made when my fist connected with it. Would I change anything about that night? No. But they don’t need to hear that.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer.
“What would you have done differently?” she questions, pushing those big round lenses up her nose again.
“I’d walk away.”
The gray-haired man raises a brow. “You’re certain of that?”
“No, sir,” I admit honestly. “But I’d try harder.”
For the first time, one of them almost smiles.
The chairman straightens the file.
“Mr. Dover, based on your conduct during incarceration, the recommendations from correctional staff, and your demonstrated efforts toward rehabilitation…”
My chest tightens.
“…the Nevada Board of Parole Commissioners has reached a decision.”
The room goes completely still.
“Wesley Dover, you are hereby granted parole after serving three years of your five-year sentence.”
The words hit like a punch to the lungs, and I definitely know what that feels like. Hard, fast, and uncontrolled.
“You will be released under supervision within seventy-two hours pending final processing.”
I swallow down my nerves.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand that any violation of parole conditions will result in immediate return to custody?”
“Yes, sir.”
He nods once.
“Then this hearing is concluded.”
“Thank you for taking this chance on me. I won’t disappoint you.”
All three of them nod in tandem. “See that you don’t. Next time, we won’t be as lenient.”
The screen goes black before I can answer them, and the room suddenly feels too quiet.
I’m free. I can’t believe that I’m actually free!
Rodgers steps forward and unlocks the chain from the table but doesn’t uncuff my wrists. He can’t, not yet at least. So, for a moment we just stare at each other in disbelief. The guard and the criminal he’s protected for the last two years.
“Told you if you kept your head down, they’d let you go early,” he mutters under his breath.
“Yeah, you did. But can I ask you something, Rodgers? Why me? Why did you spend the last two years protecting me in here?”
He scrubs the back of his neck, glancing at the door that’s yet to be opened. “Your dad and I served together.”
“You did?”
He nods.
“When I saw your name and your face, things just clicked. You look just like he did back in his old army days. If it wasn’t for him, I may not be here right now. I owe your dad my life, and this was the best way I could repay him.”
My dad told us stories of the four years he served in the military. His biggest story was the one of him pulling one of his fellow soldiers out of a truck that had caught fire after it was shot at with a hand grenade and missed full detonation.
“Wait, you’re the guy he pulled out of the truck, aren’t you?”
He nods, showing the burn scars on his forearms. “If it wasn’t for him, I would’ve burned alive that day.”
“So, did my dad ask you to protect me?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. He didn’t have to. Brothers protect brothers and their families.” He jerks his head toward the door. “Come on, Dover. Let’s get your processing started.”
“You do realize that if it wasn’t for you and my uncle, I wouldn’t have survived the last two years in here.”
He nods. “You’re welcome. Now come on, let’s get you out of here and back to your family where you’ll be even more protected.”
My dad may have saved Rodger’s life back in the day, but it was with his help and my uncle’s that I’m still here. Now I just have to keep my nose clean, and stay out of trouble, which is easier said than done, knowing what I’m running home towards.
I didn’t even bother telling anyone I was getting out earlier than expected.
But damn does it feel good to be on the other side, tasting and smelling air that’s free of constrictions and restraints.
Rodgers made sure he was the one who escorted me out the doors, handing me off to my sister, who is already in tears when she sees me.
“Oh my god, look at you!” she exclaims, staring at my tattoos with wide eyes. “You’re all tatted up.”
Laughing, I grab her in the biggest hug, swinging her around wildly. “Yeah, that’s what happens in prison. It changes you.”
She grins. “Thanks for letting me be the one to pick you up. I half expected you to call Rich or Eddie.”
Ruffling up her hair, I grin. “Nawh, after you came to see me in that hospital room, there was only one person to call.”
Ashleigh laughs. “So, what’s your plan now?”
“I’m gonna go work for Eddie at his father’s shop.”
Those dimples quickly fade. “You haven’t heard, have you?”
“What?”
“After Eddie’s dad died, he changed. The biker club he’s in, went from peaceful to the bad ones you hear about on the news. They aren't good people, Wes. You should stay away from them.”
“They’re my best friends, Ash. I’m not just going to turn my back on them because I’m out of prison.”
Her frown deepens. “So, you’ve basically learned nothing. You’re just going to go straight back a life of crime and mayhem?”
“Ash, come on, don’t be like that. I have to go where I’m protected, and Eddie and Rich will always have my back.”
“At what cost, Wes? Wasn’t it their stupid feud that almost cost you your life?”
My silence says everything I can’t.
“Exactly! You should be walking away from that kind of life, not running toward it.”
“I’ll be fine, Ash. I promise.”
She angrily stomps toward her car, obviously pissed at me.