Page 9 of Redemption

“I know that, don’t you think I know that?” I growled, anger and guilt bubbling up. “I killed his fucking wife, I know I at least owe him a conversation but…” I trailed off.

“But what?” Pat asked.

I shoved a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends and pushed out a breath. “I don’t think I can face him.”

“What’s the worst he can do? There are guards everywhere, he ain’t gonna get to you.”

I paced back and forth in my cell. “I’m not worried about him attacking me. I’m worried about what he’ll say.”

“Don’t you owe it to him to find out?”

Patrick was right. I did owe it to him. I owed him the world, my life, if he’d take it and I wouldn’t even blame him after what I took from him, from his girls.

“Fuck,” I huffed. It was time to nut up or shut up. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Thank the Lord, you’ve only got thirty minutes of visiting time left anyway.”

Patrick radioed to get my cell door opened. I turned and faced the wall, hands raised. The grinding of metal had me shuddering, damn I couldn’t stand that sound. Patrick slipped the cuffs on me and walked me out to where visiting took place.

There were a couple of inmates visiting family. I’d only ever visited my public defender here before, never anyone else. The room was depressing, all gray and navy which did not make the environment friendly or inviting. It was too cold and industrial which I guess was the point.

I sat there, my palms sweating, my heart in my throat as I waited for them to bring him in. My knee bounced up and down. I nibbled my lip so much that the cut I had there split open and blood filled my mouth. Then my pulse pounded as he was sitting down in front of me.

He looked older, his hair and beard fully white instead of peppered with gray. The lines at his eyes and around his mouth were deeper but his eyes shone bright andkind. He wore a denim jacket over a lumberjack shirt and faded blue jeans. He looked like a dad, like a grandpa.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, so on edge, waiting for him to speak. He glanced around, assessing the room, eyes lingering on the handcuffs I had on before turning those kind eyes on me.

“It’s real good to see you, son,” he said, his words deep and warm and I let them wash over me.

Then I burst into tears.

*

Present Day…

I took my time on my walk. I was in a hurry to see Charlie, but it was the first long walk I’d had in twelve years. The crickets chirped incessantly. Cars passed and I was amazed at seeing how much they had changed over the last few years, how quickly technology had advanced. Hell, when I went inside, electric cars were still a myth. I’d seen them all on TV but it was different seeing them in person. Call me crazy but I still loved a beat-up old Ford truck to these Tesla’s.

The trees were lush and green, the air smelled like fresh cut grass and I inhaled the shit out of it, letting it get me high. I had to take breaks and rest. You think that you get fit in prison but there’s only so much distance you can go. My stamina wasn’t what I thought. I’d bulked up but I wasn’t fit like I used to be. The sun shone down on me, not hot but gently warm, perfect spring weather.

The closer I got to the ranch, the bigger the pit in my gut became as I got closer to the scene of the accident. Maybe it was a mistake to come here so soon; it hadn’t occurred to me that I would see it, walk right past it. I hadn’t been here sincethat night.

My steps slowed as I came around a bend in the road and I halted altogether when I saw the bench by the side of the road, surrounded by flowers. The memorial at the scene where Sherry Cartwright had met her untimely death. At my hands.

Guilt ate at me. I didn’t think I could even walk over to it, but I forced myself. Made myself face what I’d done. The bench was gorgeous, carved from solid oak, soft and gently shaped, just like Sherry. The bronze plaque readFor Sherry: the light in our lives. Gone far too soon but never forgotten.

The air fled my lungs and I hunched over, trying to ward off the panic attack. I didn’t deserve to be here, not after what I’d done. I gasped, trying to get air into my lungs but also secretly hoping it never would; then this would all be over. Instead, I continued like that, placing a hand to my chest and trying to get control of my breathing.

I’m so sorry, Sherry.I’ll never stop being sorry.

Eventually, I managed to get my breathing under control and I collapsed on the ground next to the bench. I didn’t dare sit on it, I wasn’t worthy.

I sat there for an hour, apologizing to Sherry over and over again in my mind, knowing I could never make up for what had happened and wondering how I was going to get through life like this.

Charlie.

I needed to get to Charlie.

I pulled myself to my feet, dusted the dirt from my hands and with a final look at Sherry’s bench, I continued on to the ranch.

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