Dylan
THE WORST THING about being in jail was that it felt like home. Although I’d never been in the MCDC, much of my childhood had been spent reading or doing homework outside my dad’s cell while he slept off enough whisky to drive us home. The cops probably should have taken his driver’s license away, but instead they called him a “harmless drunk” and continued to let him off with a warning.It helped that we were related to most of the police force.
Regardless of my father’s disregard for the law, I’d never been on the inside of the bars before. In spite of the townies who predicted otherwise, I’d kept my nose clean. Desperate to escape my dead-end hometown, I busted my butt filling out forms, grant requests, and applications to receive a full scholarship to a private boardingschool in Portland, where I stayed from sixth grade on. Hell, I was the first person in my family to even step foot in college, much less earn a degree. Yet none of my hard work and accomplishments had kept me from this moment... handcuffed to a very nervous nun and waiting to get fingerprinted.
The nun was gnawing off the fingernails of her free hand, and they were getting pretty close to thestub. Worried for the safety of her fingers, I tried to distract her.
“What are you in here for?” I asked.
She pulled her hand away, studied the damage, and replied, “Drugs. And family.”
A nun with a drug problem? That was unexpected. Still, I kind of got it. I snorted. “I feel you. Being around my family would drive me to drugs too.”
“Oh, no, sorry. Notmydrug problem... well, since I’min here, I suppose it kind of became my drug problem. My stupid-ass brother.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry. I’m working on my swearing problem.”
“No fuckin’ judgment here,” I said.
She smiled. “Thanks. I’m Alexa... I mean, Sister Maria. What’d you do?”
Not like I was an authority on nuns or anything, but this girl definitely didn’t sound like one. Still, I decided to play along. “I’mDylan. They found my ex-boss’s body outside my apartment. I didn’t kill him. I mean, I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
Her eyes widened, but before she could say anything else, an officer uncuffed us and led us to the fingerprint scanning station.
Once I was fingerprinted and booked—dressed in thin sweat pants, a plain pink T-shirt, tube socks, and plastic shoes—a big male guard and I were buzzedinto a room with two levels of cells. The small jail I’d basically grown up in didn’t have a catwalk, so this was a new experience for me. It was like the place was built to intimidate. Every footstep echoed as he walked me down the loneliest hallway I’d ever encountered. It smelled like a bizarre combination of cold metal, cement, body odor, and desperation, suffocating a little more hope with everystep we took.
I could feel people watching me, probably wondering what my story was, and I caught glimpses of my new neighbors through their small barred windows. My stomach clenched as I fought the urge to tell the guard I didn’t belong there. No doubt he’d heard that line before. Besides, a voice in the back of my mind kept reminding me of who my old man was, insisting I deserved to followin his footsteps. Only Dad was never booked. Jail for him had been more like an overnight stay at a free motel.
Before showing me to my cell, the guard handed me two small blankets, a towel, threadbare sheets, and a pillowcase. I clutched my new belongings to my chest, wishing they could magically transport me back in time twenty-four hours so I could take Addison up on her offer and crash inher spare bedroom.
Instead, here I was, sinking even lower than my old man. And I hadn’t even done anything wrong.
Mentally flipping genetics the bird, I slid past the three-inch thick door and into the eight-by-eight cell. My temporary home contained a stainless steel toilet, sink, reflective surface, and a foam mattress on a platform.
There was an ominous click, and I turned to find myselfalone. The guard had left without so much as a good-bye. I rushed to the window and peered out, seeing his retreating back. Feeling defeated, I slunk to the ground, dropping my belongings so I could hug my knees to my chest.
It’ll be fine. Addie and Ash will come for me,I reassured myself, rocking back and forth. The cement floor felt cold beneath me. I eyed the bed, quickly dismissing it.I didn’t care how long I had to stay awake, I would not stoop so low as to sleep in jail.
