see his mother, but when I went to the apartment
there was already a new tenant there. There was nothing to do but wait. I
figured when Tai got released, he would contact me. But six months came and
went and he never did.”
Gigi looked away, staring off into space for a long moment
before she met Christa’s gaze again. “Two years,” she said flatly.
“What?” Christa stared at the other woman’s stark face.
“They lied to you. It wasn’t six months. He did two years in
a medium-security penitentiary for that kick.”
Christa’s stomach lurched. “Th—that can’t be right. He was a
minor. And a first-time offender,” she protested. A bout of dizziness assailed
her and she set down her mug and bent low, putting her head between her knees.
Two years. Exactly the length of time Mitch said Tai had been off the grid.
“He was tried as an adult.” Gigi’s voice was low and
soothing, but her words slammed into Christa like bricks. “I’m sorry to be the
one to tell you. I thought you should know.”
A gentle hand rubbed her back. “I appreciate it.” She
couldn’t hear the sound of her own voice through the rush of blood in her ears.
Two years. In a real jail. Hot tears sprang to her eyes as
she thought of the boy she knew. Alone. In the dark. Behind bars. He’d lost two
years of his life because of her and she was following him around like some
spoiled brat asking for his forgiveness? No wonder he hated her.
Right then, she hated her too.
* * * * *
It was dark. The smell hit him first. Stale, recycled
air. That astringent, almost metallic smell straining to mask the pervasive
aroma of body odor. Panic hit hard as he squinted to see through the shadows.
He stood, blindly stumbling forward, straight into iron bars.
Prison.
Panic clawed at him as he tried to process what was
happening. That this was to be his life for the next two years. From science
class and yearbooks to this. The catcalls echoed in his ears and he ran to the
toilet and vomited.
A cool hand in his hair, a tug and a groan and the smell
faded. Honeysuckle and fresh air. Christa at the lake. She was kissing him,
running her hand over his back. Lower. The panic receded and he leaned forward
to talk to her. Tell her how much he loved her.
He stared down into her face, but her eyes were lifeless,
blood trickling from her mouth. He screamed and laid her on the ground, shaking
her, calling her name through broken sobs.
“She was a slut anyway,” Pierce said on a laugh.
Tai stood, blessed rage coalescing in his heart,
momentarily eclipsing his sorrow.
His foot snapped out like a whip, high and fast,
with pinpoint accuracy, followed by the sickening yet satisfying crack of bone.
“Again!” his brain screamed.
As if on a loop, that foot flew, over and over.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
His eyes snapped open as he sucked in a breath.
Sweat poured from his body and the sheets clung to his chest like seaweed as he
looked around the dimly lit room.
The Man Bus.
Okay. He was okay. His thundering heart began to slow as he
scrubbed a hand down his slick face.
One night with Christa Reilly and this was the result.
Even as the thought occurred to him, guilt prickled some small,
rational part of his mind. She’d been a kid. Same as him. What did she know
back then? Could it be that the woman she was today would have made better
choices?
Like choosing him.
He sat up and hung his head in his hands. He was just
rationalizing now. Trying to make some excuse for her abandonment so he could
be with her. Funny, he used to do the same thing with his dad. Bastard would
blow him off for the third time in a row, without even a phone call. How many
times had Tai made up excuses for him, to himself and his mom?
“He probably had to work late”. Or “Maybe he forgot. He does
that sometimes, even with real important stuff”.
His mother, God bless her, would give him a sad little smile
and nod, never contradicting him. Never saying a bad word
there was already a new tenant there. There was nothing to do but wait. I
figured when Tai got released, he would contact me. But six months came and
went and he never did.”
Gigi looked away, staring off into space for a long moment
before she met Christa’s gaze again. “Two years,” she said flatly.
“What?” Christa stared at the other woman’s stark face.
“They lied to you. It wasn’t six months. He did two years in
a medium-security penitentiary for that kick.”
Christa’s stomach lurched. “Th—that can’t be right. He was a
minor. And a first-time offender,” she protested. A bout of dizziness assailed
her and she set down her mug and bent low, putting her head between her knees.
Two years. Exactly the length of time Mitch said Tai had been off the grid.
“He was tried as an adult.” Gigi’s voice was low and
soothing, but her words slammed into Christa like bricks. “I’m sorry to be the
one to tell you. I thought you should know.”
A gentle hand rubbed her back. “I appreciate it.” She
couldn’t hear the sound of her own voice through the rush of blood in her ears.
Two years. In a real jail. Hot tears sprang to her eyes as
she thought of the boy she knew. Alone. In the dark. Behind bars. He’d lost two
years of his life because of her and she was following him around like some
spoiled brat asking for his forgiveness? No wonder he hated her.
Right then, she hated her too.
* * * * *
It was dark. The smell hit him first. Stale, recycled
air. That astringent, almost metallic smell straining to mask the pervasive
aroma of body odor. Panic hit hard as he squinted to see through the shadows.
He stood, blindly stumbling forward, straight into iron bars.
Prison.
Panic clawed at him as he tried to process what was
happening. That this was to be his life for the next two years. From science
class and yearbooks to this. The catcalls echoed in his ears and he ran to the
toilet and vomited.
A cool hand in his hair, a tug and a groan and the smell
faded. Honeysuckle and fresh air. Christa at the lake. She was kissing him,
running her hand over his back. Lower. The panic receded and he leaned forward
to talk to her. Tell her how much he loved her.
He stared down into her face, but her eyes were lifeless,
blood trickling from her mouth. He screamed and laid her on the ground, shaking
her, calling her name through broken sobs.
“She was a slut anyway,” Pierce said on a laugh.
Tai stood, blessed rage coalescing in his heart,
momentarily eclipsing his sorrow.
His foot snapped out like a whip, high and fast,
with pinpoint accuracy, followed by the sickening yet satisfying crack of bone.
“Again!” his brain screamed.
As if on a loop, that foot flew, over and over.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
His eyes snapped open as he sucked in a breath.
Sweat poured from his body and the sheets clung to his chest like seaweed as he
looked around the dimly lit room.
The Man Bus.
Okay. He was okay. His thundering heart began to slow as he
scrubbed a hand down his slick face.
One night with Christa Reilly and this was the result.
Even as the thought occurred to him, guilt prickled some small,
rational part of his mind. She’d been a kid. Same as him. What did she know
back then? Could it be that the woman she was today would have made better
choices?
Like choosing him.
He sat up and hung his head in his hands. He was just
rationalizing now. Trying to make some excuse for her abandonment so he could
be with her. Funny, he used to do the same thing with his dad. Bastard would
blow him off for the third time in a row, without even a phone call. How many
times had Tai made up excuses for him, to himself and his mom?
“He probably had to work late”. Or “Maybe he forgot. He does
that sometimes, even with real important stuff”.
His mother, God bless her, would give him a sad little smile
and nod, never contradicting him. Never saying a bad word
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