Page 13 of Deliver Me

You should know by now that I like it when you tell me about your life. Even the boring stuff is a welcome distraction from what happens in here. Nobody is happy all the time and I bet once you figure out for sure what your major should be, you’ll feel much better.

Do most people have magical summers?

I think that might be some made up TV bullshit. I bet your friends think their summer was pretty typical, too, even if most of us in here would love to hang out by the pool all summer. Our air conditioning is pretty unreliable, so it would be a welcome relief from the heat.

If life has its magical moments, I doubt they come on a schedule, it just happens when it’s the right time. There’s no fucking TV show or movie on Earth that would have predicted that this summer would be anything special for me, but it’s the summer you found me.

Your letters have become a bright spot in my shitty life. I’m happy that you get to enjoy your life so don’t waste any of your time being sad about me being stuck in here, okay? Promise?

You shouldn’t waste your life wishing for things you can’t have.

Gabriel

He stared at his last sentence and wondered if he would be able to take his own advice. There was always a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought for too long about whether she would keep writing to him once she went back to class.

What if she got too busy?

He’d gotten used to having someone to care about over the past several weeks and the thought of losing her now made his heart ache.

Chapter Seven

Fall

The stack of her letters had grown thicker and new ones arrived on a predictable schedule that gave rhythm and reason to his days. The prison itself had not changed—the reality of incarceration was as unpleasant and endless as it had always been—but the monotony had been broken. She wrote to him at least twice a week, usually not even waiting to receive a response to one letter before composing the next.

She’d gushed happily about her first weeks back at college, boundless in her enthusiasm for every experience. He knew she must be smart because she found the work stimulating and enjoyable. He loved to learn but always hated sitting in a classroom, and he was glad that she was different. That her life wasn’t a cage for her and that she was all of the bright and happy things, bringing the world joy where he had only ever brought pain.

Prison offered him few interesting things to discuss, so he answered her questions if she asked directly, but never volunteered more than necessary about his barren existence. Hepreferred to talk to her about her life, which was rich and vibrant and full.

To compensate, he continued to draw for her. Always cheerful things like flowers and sunsets and interesting faces that he remembered from before he came to this place. He wondered often what her face looked like, but he could never summon the courage to ask.

Alex had given up on mocking him for his ‘little girl pen pal’ when he realized how much Gabriel’s attitude had improved with the regular arrival of her letters. The lack of heat in Gabriel’s temper had turned Alex into her biggest fan.

“Mail from your girl,” he said now, handing it over and snorting out a laugh when Gabriel extended his middle finger in reply.

“I’m stuck in here for the rest of my life, remember? Not everyone is lucky enough to have an actual release date. Lucky bastard.”

“Some women are into that. Intimacy issues or some shit, right? Or maybe she can’t get a man on the outside.”

“Watch your mouth,” Gabriel warned. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.”

“Neither do you, really. Do you even know what she looks like?” Alex’s look was condescending, and he already knew the answer.

“No, I don’t,” Gabriel admitted, not really looking at Alex anymore, his gaze fixed on a spot of peeling paint beside his cellmate’s head, “but I know she’s smart and funny. She wouldn’t have any problem getting a boyfriend if she wanted one.”

Mia deserved to be loved. She was always positive and happy—who wouldn’t be drawn to that vibrant energy?

“Do you think he’ll try and stop her from talking to you if she does?”

“What?” Gabriel’s gaze snapped back into focus on Alex’s face.

“Would you want your girlfriend writing to some stranger? Especially one in here?” Alex gestured vaguely to their surroundings with a pointed look.

“Shut up, Alex,” he muttered, and Alex shrugged, his point made. Gabriel hadn’t thought about the implications of her being in a relationship, figuring that since she kept writing him after she went back to school that he was in the clear, at least for a while.

But Alex was right … If he had a girlfriend, he certainly wouldn’t want her to spend her time writing to a murderer.

He tucked his unease away as he opened her letter. There was nothing he could do about it now, so there was no use worrying about it.

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