She snorts. “You can’t be serious. I’m not even sure I want to come next week.”
My chest tightens at the idea. Although I’ve made up my mind about what’ll happen if I lose the trial, I still want to see her until then. These visits, despite being frustratingly short, are all I have to look forward to. My weeks have no days anymore, none that matter but Saturday, when my freckled dork comes to visit.
“Take care of yourself,” I say once her coat is all buttoned up.
“You too.”
For the first time, she leaves without giving me a hug, without telling me she loves me. I remain at the table for several minutes after her departure, trying to get a hold of my unruly emotions. My bottled-up feelings seem to be gathered in my chest, making it uncomfortably tight. I’m mad at myself and at this whole situation more than I’m mad at her. And the more I relive the argument, the worse it gets.
I did this to her. To us. I fucking ruined everything. That’s why I’m trying to fix it.
She’ll see. Maybe not right now, but she’ll see I’m right. It might take her a few weeks or months, but she’ll understand why I’ve cut her off and why it’s better that way. God knows she’s clever enough to get it.
I still haven’t calmed down when a guard notices that I’m alone. He comes to get me at the table and leads me out, back into the cold hallways of the block. Six days and twenty-three and a half hours until Andrea returns—if she’s forgiven me and comes back.
Two men step in front of me just as I’m reaching my cell. One’s short but bulky, the other tall and slim. Their skulls are shaved, their pale skin covered in tattoos. Although I can’t see one, I’m fairly confident there’s a swastika somewhere in there. I’ve seen them around before, hanging out with the white supremacist crowd. I’ve avoided them well, but that changes today, it seems.
“Trouble in paradise?” the short one snickers.
“What?”
“I saw you in the visitation room. Your lady looked upset.”
There it is again—that primal instinct warning me of pending danger. The short hair on the back of my neck rises, my senses sharpen, and my entire body becomes alert and ready.
“That’s Andrea, right? Andrea Walker,” he continues. “Saw her name in the papers. Says she’s your girl.”
“What about her?” I mutter, fists clenching at my sides.
“See, my brother here’s rollin’ out next week. But his old lady split—took off with some chump and all his cash. We figured you might wanna help him put a little something in his account, to help with his new start. Call it a favor, one white man to another.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To help out your own kind,” he sneers. “’Cause if you don’t, well… my buddy might have to find comfort elsewhere. Maybe with that fine little piece of yours.”
The vile little man smiles, exposing a couple of rotten teeth among a row of yellow. How such a man can think of himself as the “superior race” is beyond me.
I’m still trying to decide on a course of action when he elbows his tall friend to say, “She’s a pretty little thing, you’ll see. You’d never guess there’s brown blood in there.”
As my knuckles collide with the man’s nose, I feel my chest loosen a little, some of the tension leaving me. Beating a couple of neo-Nazis to a pulp is a great way to blow off some steam, isn’t it? It’s not like I have a choice because my body acts faster than I can command it to. Before I know it, I’m tackling the taller one to the ground while the short one lies next to us, holding his nose with a whimper.
All I see is searing red wrath as I punch into the pliable skin. This goes beyond these two men. It’s as if the anger I’ve been containing for weeks is coming out at once. Rage at myself, at the situation, at what was stolen from me, at my poor luck… It all boils down to this moment, to these two repulsive men who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t care if they deserve it or not. In my heart, I know they do. And it feels fucking good to let it all out.
This is essentially physical therapy, and I fucking need it right now.
Chapter 07
By the time I pull up in my parents’ driveway, I’ve managed to calm down. They already have so many reservations about this whole thing, I don’t want to give them more reasons to question my attachment to Lex.
I check myself in the rearview mirror once I’m parked, hoping no one will notice I’ve cried. Though it wouldn’t be too suspicious that I shed a few tears after visiting my boyfriend in jail.
After a deep breath, I grab my overnight bag from the passenger seat and step out of the car. My dad’s the one who opens the door for me. “Hey, peanut. You’re early.”
“Yeah, sorry, I—we had to shorten the visit.”
“I see. Your mom and Maria Carmen aren’t back yet.”
He gives me a tight but short hug and takes my bag for me. “Where are they?”
