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Vinnie watches as I demonstrate, my fists thudding against the rubber torso. “Each hit has to have intent behind it.”
After a minute, I step back, breathing heavily but controlled. “And when you can’t punch”—I pant slightly—“you learn to grapple. Wrestling techniques, joint locks, using leverage.”
“You could give those MMA fighters a run for their money,” Vinnie jokes, but there’s a trace of real admiration in his voice.
I laugh, wiping sweat from my brow. “The point is not to fight in a ring, Vinnie. It’s to make sure I can deal with our family—and the McAllisters—without being afraid.”
He steps forward, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I know, and I’m proud of you. You’ve always been tough, but now, you’re like... superhero tough.”
“I don’t know about superhero,” I say, looking away, feeling a little bashful but happy. “But I do feel more in control. And that’s a start.”
Vinnie gives me a mock salute. “What’s next in the training regimen?”
I roll my shoulders back. “Get ready, because next I’ll teach you how to fall without getting hurt. It’s all about rolling with it, literally.”
He groans. “All right, let’s do it.”
We spend the next hour on the mats. I show Vinnie the art of falling, rolling, and getting back up again, the basement gym filled with our grunts of effort, a space where I’m not just learning to defend myself, but also teaching my brother to see me in a new light.
“I wouldn’t want to run into you,” he says, wiping the back of his neck with a towel.
I laugh softly. “You’re not who concerns me.” I grab a towel for myself. “But the next time Miles McAllister comes near me, I’m going to be more than ready. After all, you saw me shoot.” I stand tall. “He won’t get near me again.”
21
FALCON
“You can come in now,” the bailiff says.
I rise and follow Lola back into the room where the parole board sits.
“All rise,” the bailiff says once more.
Once the judge is seated, she nods to the parole board. “Ms. Guzman, have you come to a decision?”
“We have, your honor.”
“Very well. Go ahead. The defendant will rise.”
Lola and I stand together.
Ms. Guzman clears her throat. “Good afternoon, everyone. We have just concluded the parole revocation hearing for Mr. Falcon Bellamy, who was facing allegations of parole violations, specifically missing required meetings with his parole officer and possession of a firearm. After careful consideration of the evidence and statements presented, it’s time to discuss our decision regarding Mr. Bellamy’s parole. Mr. Lane?”
The man to her right clears his throat. “I want to start by acknowledging that Mr. Bellamy has shown genuine remorse for his actions. He admitted to the violation, explained the context, and expressed a strong commitment to his rehabilitation.”
Oh God. Why do I feel there’s a but coming?
My heart pounds in my chest and my vision blurs.
I blink several times and everything refocuses just in time for me to see Ms. Guzman nodding to the other board member.
Mr. Lane continues. “Mr. Bellamy’s quick acknowledgment of his lapse in judgment and his efforts to seek counseling and support demonstrate that he understands the gravity of his actions and is taking steps to address the issue.”
But he still broke his parole, and we’re going to send him back to prison.
“That said, despite the context provided, Mr. Bellamy did violate his parole, and he was and has always been aware of the consequences of doing so. He has proven in his testimony that he is an intelligent man, one who is fully capable of understanding the ramifications of his actions.”
Oh Jesus. I might throw up.
