He nods.
And closing my eyes for a moment, not wanting to let go before I look back up at him.Thank you.
I’m surprised when a smile spreads across him and he nods again.
Pulling away as the guards call us back over, I look down at her. “I—”
“No.” She says sternly, shaking her head.
“What?”
“No. Not here.” She shakes her head as she nods her head with a smirk on her face, telling me she knows.
The guard yells my name again, and I’m being pulled away. Cuffs slapped on my wrists again. But it doesn’t matter because she’s just staring back at me.
Tatum comes by a few times a week. After the first time, it gets easier to let her see me in here and talk to her about what’s going on. Although, every time I almost feel like she’s keeping something from me. Probably just her worries about the outcome of it all.
I never thought that I’d be okay with her having to be in here, but we somehow grow closer in those moments we have.
With each laugh that echoes around the visitation room from her, I feel myself somehow get deeper in this whole thing, and each time I come back to my cell, trying to find another way to get out of all of this so I can get back to her. So I can give her all of these things that she deserves.
I dream about how she looks underneath me every night.
And believe me, I find it fucking ironic that the last moment before Darren had me arrested; I was inside of her.
When Axe came in just days after I got here, and asked how I felt about Zeke prospecting, I almost fell out of my fucking chair. Told him he didn’t need to just because he felt like he owed us something for what he did, but that wasn’t it.
Apparently, watching his brother getting arrested for something he didn’t do was enough to make my brother stick around.
I’m fucking shocked when I walk into the visitation room to see my brother sitting there, alone. I hesitate as I approach the table, not sure if he’s going to stand up and if he expects me to hug him or not. He looks up at me, almost as confused, and I nod my head, sitting down across from him.
“Thanks.” He starts the conversation.
“For what?”
“For letting me.”
“I told you, if you ever wanted in…”
“I know, but after everything I’ve done.”
“You have done nothing.”
He laughs. “That’s the fucking problem. I have done nothing, yet I’ve been pissed at you for it all. You didn’t deserve it.”
“Brother, you needed someone to take out your grief on. I understand. I can take it.”
“But you don’t deserve it.”
I laugh to myself. “None of us deserves any of this. Life is really fucking messy sometimes, but eventually, we figure our shit out.”
“What’d dad tell you that?” He laughs out, but his expression grows curious as I slowly shake my head.
“No, mom.”
His eyes well up and I look at him, stunned for a moment. “I fucking miss her so much.”
“I do, too.” I sigh, finally looking up at him. “When you go back out to the desert. Go into the office and look in the desk, bottom left drawer, dad left you something in there.” I’ve known my brother for long enough to know the flash in his eyes as the rage takes over as it does. “Calm down, you weren’t ready for it. Dad gave me pretty specific instructions and, well… now you are.”
