“Famous last words,” I murmur, feeling sick to my stomach.
“Ryder, look at me.” She forces my face to hers. “I don’t hate you. At all.” Her nose scrunches up as she tries to find the right words. “I just hurt for you.” She strokes my face, and I lean into her touch. “I know you’re a good person, a good man, and I understand now why you disappear into your head sometimes. I’ve seen my mother killed, and it’s something that will never leave me. I know I’ll be dealing with it for as long as I live.”
“Me, too. I used to see his face every time I closed my eyes but not so much lately.” I raise our conjoined hands to my mouth, kissing her knuckles. “You make everything better, Zeta. You make me believe I’m capable of being good, of being worthy of love.”
“Oh, Ryder. You are both of those things and so much more.” Tears stab her eyes, and she looks at me with so much love in her heart it almost undoes me. “You were only a kid. A kid left to fend for himself. Is it any wonder you made some bad choices?” She rubs her thumb across my mouth. “A very talented, very hot, very wise man once told me we’re not defined by the mistakes of our past, only how we choose to deal with the consequences.”
I told her that one time, when I was trying to make her feel better about her mom, but I’ve never thought that about myself.
Maybe it’s time I started practicing what I preach.
Although I have no idea how I even begin to move on from my past in order to do it.
14
Ryder
“Don’t cry, baby. Please. You’re killing me.” I wrap my arms around Zeta, holding her close. Powell arranged for us to say a private goodbye in one of the rooms usually reserved for attorney visits, and although she’s in the room, it’s much better than doing this in front of everyone. Like that time in the hospital, she has her back to us and her earbuds in, so it’s easy to pretend she’s not here.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Zeta sobs.
“I’ll come visit every week. I promise, and I’m going to miss you every bit as much as you miss me.” Powell came through for us again, appealing to the warden and securing my name on Zeta’s visitor’s list.
“What if you change your mind? What if you forget about me once you settle back into normal life? You’re the only reason I’ve been getting through this. The thought of you not being in my life …”
I hate that she’s having last-minute doubts when she’s been so strong and so positive these past few weeks as we prepared ourselves for this day.
“Zeta.” I turn her face to me, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. “I’m not going to change my mind or forget about you. That’s an impossibility. Iloveyou. Only ever you, and that’s a promise.”
She clings to me, circling her arms around my neck and pressing her warm lips to the underside of my jaw. “I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I’m being selfish.” She sits up straighter, swiping at her tears and forcing a smile on her face. “This is a great day for you, and I’m ruining it by acting like a needy, whiny girlfriend.” She cups my face. “I’m really happy for you. You’ve been here a long time, and you’re finally free!”
“You’re not being selfish, you’re just being human, and I’d rather you tell me how you really feel than pretend with me.” Grabbing her face, I pull her mouth to mine for a long, slow, deep kiss. My tongue flicks against the seam of her lips, and she willingly opens for me. I run my tongue around her mouth, memorizing every taste, every touch, knowing I will need it to keep me going on lonely nights.
When Powell tells me it’s time to leave, I reluctantly break the kiss, pressing my forehead to Zeta’s. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts. If you think our separation isn’t killing me too, then you’re mistaken. I’m sure I’d feel exactly the same if our situations were reversed, but please don’t doubt me, baby.” I peer into her gorgeous brown eyes. “I’m yours. And you’re mine. And this is only temporary, because I’m going to do everything in my power to see that you’re set free. If you want to focus on one truth, focus on that, because I’m not giving up until you’re by my side.”
* * *
Readjustingto life outside is harder than I anticipated. A lot has changed since I’ve been in juvie, and I’m feeling more than a little out of my depth.
I managed to graduate with my high school diploma, and Powell hooked me up with Stan, a buddy of hers, who owns a restaurant. He took a chance on me, and I’ve been working as a kitchen hand for the last month. He even rented me the tiny studio apartment above the restaurant, taking rent from my paycheck and giving me a subsidy on meals. I don’t have much left over, but anything I do have, I’m putting away, because I want to save up for a bigger place for when Zeta gets out. I can’t thank Stan or Powell enough for helping me get back on my feet.
Another advantage is the proximity to the juvenile hall. It’s only a thirty-minute bus ride, and I make the trip once a week. I’d be there every day if they granted me daily visitation rights, but I’m lucky they allow me to visit her at all, as that’s usually only reserved for parents and guardians. At this point, I’m considering nominating Powell for sainthood for all she’s done for us.
Zeta is doing well, and I’m proud of her for holding it together. Every visit, I have to force my feet to move once our time is up, and I’m always melancholy on the trip back to the city.
I’m missing her hella bad, and it feels as if I’ve lost half of myself. I try to keep myself busy in my free time so that I don’t fall back into dark times. I do a few extra shifts at the restaurant when they’re available, I jog at least five miles a day, work out at the local public gym, and spend hours playing my guitar and writing new music, and the rest of my time is devoted to tracking down Zeta’s aunt.
I’m practically bouncing into the juvenile center the following week, bursting to tell her the good news.
“Someone looks happy,” she says into the phone.
“I’m always happy to see you. How are you, baby? I missed you.” I blow her a kiss, wishing I could kiss her properly, but the plexiglass separating us prevents that.
She places her hand on the glass, and I line my palm up with hers. “I’m hanging in there. My new attorney submitted the appeal paperwork, and he’s hoping to hear of a court date next week.”
“That’s excellent news. And I have more.”
She arches a brow. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
