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“And me?” He snorts. “Like I’m some kind of prize to place on the mantle?”
I grin at him. “You. Are. Mine. Take all the time you need to adjust, but don’t leave me waiting too long. I’ll get impatient, and that’s the last thing either of us wants.”
The blue waterproof plastic covering the chairs squeak every time someone shifts to get comfortable. Muffled coughs and murmured conversations float through the air, filling the otherwise silent room with noises belaying the visitors’ anxiety.
No one enjoys sitting in the reception area of the jail, awaiting the chance to see their loved ones in white jumpers as they serve time for their crimes.
I sit patiently, waiting for the guard to call me back to see my dad. Today is his birthday, but that means fuck all to anyone around me. It certainly doesn’t mean I’ll get more than our allotted thirty minutes.
Getting in here is a headache, though it’s not as difficult to visit the county jail as it is to visit my grandfather in prison. Their checks are much more thorough, making us leave all our belongings in lockers before we’re patted down and sniffed by dogs.
The only significant difference to me is I actually want to visit my dad, so I don’t mind the headache.
He’s been a bright spot in this life of violence and political moves. And he’s taught me everything I know, everything I need to survive, but not enough. Not all the things he knows.
“Smith,” the guard shouts. “Gemma Smith.”
I sigh, steadying myself for the coded conversation I need to have with Eduardo Maldonado Jr.
The perks of having so many people on the payroll are clear when I step into the small, isolated room. In other situations, I wouldn’t get this uninterrupted time with my dad... but quite a few of these cops owe him favors.
He sits in the metal chair, hands free of the cuffs. The guard who walks me back closes the door behind me, giving us a free moment.
But nothing is ever free.
There’s a camera in here.
I don’t know if it can pick up our voices, but we watch our words, anyway.
Ed Mal Jr. stands from his chair, arms outstretched to accept my hug. And I wrap around him, squeezing like this is the last time I’ll see him.
It very well could be... So I take nothing for granted.
“Gem,” he breathes, tucking his cheek against the crown of my head. “I’ve missed you, my girl.”
“Me too,” I whisper back. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you,” Dad says cheerfully as he steps away from me.
I give him a sad smile. “I’m so ready for you to come home. How are you?”
“Me?” He playfully scoffs. “Never better. The food is shitty, and the beds are harder than rocks, but I’ve been worse. How are you, Gemstone?”
“I’m here. It’s hard to complain.” I wobble my head. “Stressed, but still in one piece.”
“It’s the village idiot, huh?” he guesses. “He’s finally flipped and started showing his true face.”
“How’d you know?”
Dad gives me a no-nonsense look. “I’ve been waiting for him to slip up. He thinks having only you to contend with is enough to secure his place. Have you dealt with him yet?”
“No. We’re observing his behavior,” I grumble. “It’s a fickle matter.”
“It’s not, Gem. Remove him from the property.”
“What about Grand—”
“Forget what he’ll do,” Dad interrupts, leaning back in his chair. “Rabbits can sense when a predator is near. They run in the opposite direction, only to bump into someone they presume less threatening…”
