Page 57 of Unbind

‘I’m so sorry,’ he says, over and over, his voice cracked with emotion. ‘I’m sofucking sorry.’

I hold him tighter. ‘I know you are. I know.’

And I do.

34

ADAM

She’s not leaving.

Reliving this particular chain of events from twenty years ago is always draining, whether it’s with my therapist, a journalist, or a group of men in one of the many rehabilitation sessions I do with current and former inmates.

But none of them are quite as draining as treading that exhausting path, pushing through the chokehold of weeds such as waste and grief and deep, deep regret, in front of my victim’s sister, a woman I’m increasingly mesmerised by and, as luck would have it, a woman who suffers from exactly the same condition as Ellen.

I have to believe the universe is giving me another chance, a chance to care for someone consistently enough that they thrive. I have to believe history isn’t so cruel as to repeat itself.

Natalie isn’t Ellen.

‘Here’s the thing, though,’ I begin haltingly. ‘I’ll never forgive myself for going to Lisa’s that night, but I’ve done enough work on myself to know that’s the most thanklesskind ofwhat if.What I did to your brother, though… That was all me.

‘You can rail and rail against circumstance and luck and accidents of birth and shitty parents. But at some point, you have to take responsibility. It was my fists that did all that damage, and I had to deal with the most epic fucking shit-show because of it.’

The awful truth is that I didn’t fully comprehend the graveness of my crimes against Stephen Bennett until I began pre-trial prep with my feisty state-appointed lawyer, because I was far more consumed by the enormous act of self-sabotage I’d committed. That I’d robbed Quinn and Dad of my support, my presence, in the most spectacular fashion and at a time when my family had never needed me more consumed every fucking hour I spent incarcerated.

‘You mean your sister?’ Natalie asks now.

‘Yeah.’

‘Did your dad get to keep her?’ she asks in a voice so soft it’s like she’s terrified of what my answer will be.

‘Yeah. By the skin of his teeth. But it wasn’t pretty. Imagine—me, mum and Ellen all gone. Just like that. The poor girl had a shocker, totally fucked up her GCSEs.’

She winces. ‘Oh God. It’s all so awful. Is she—is she okay now?’

‘She’s doing pretty well. She’s a sculptor—she’s really talented.’

I put Quinn’s life on hold when I went to Lisa’s that night, and I really stomped all over any chance of normality for her when I beat the shit out of Natalie’s brother. That year I was in prison she spent in survival mode, and I’ve spent the past twenty years making amends.

Nat’s silent for a second, leaning into me, her hand onmy thigh, her touch showing me that, incredibly, she’s here for me.

‘And what about you?’ she asks.

I frown. ‘What about me?’

‘Well, how did you cope in prison?’ She hesitates. ‘Did you fall apart? Because God knows, it would have been the obvious thing to do. You were grieving and in massive shock.’

I consider the question. I can see why that would be her assumption, but the reality was pretty different.

‘In the beginning, maybe. But I’d already fallen apart, to be honest. I’d say putting your brother in hospital was my lowest low. I was still so fucking angry when they arrested me, but I was probably still in shock, too.’

She bites her lower lip and nods.

I clear my throat. ‘I had this lawyer, Anne. She was probably only forty, but she felt ancient, and she was fucking terrifying. Told me our only hope was to make the judge sympathetic to our case, given the circumstances.’

‘Surely they were black and white? You’d just suffered a horrific loss,andyou were basically Quinn’s best option as a guardian. Shouldn’t they have taken that all into account?’

I smile at the moral outrage on her beautiful face and slide my hand around her neck. ‘Hey. You’re not supposed to be on my side, remember?’

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