Page 17 of Redemption

I giggled. “You think she’s crushing on you? You think she’s looking at you like you’re her Prince Charming?” I teased.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I knew you would get like this.”

“I’m just kidding. I’ll ask her to stop making moon eyes at you,” I joked. But really I was worried. Fights at school, hanging around bars, I didn’t like where this was headed when she was still so young. And what’s worse I didn’t know what to do about it. I needed to set a good example for her and didn’t think with my recent brawl that I was doing a good job.

“Thanks for looking out for her,” I said, downing my whiskey and hissing at the burn.

“Anything for the Cartwright sisters,” he said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and demanded another whiskey. My eyes landed on the deed and just seeing the wordsJack Draytonon it had me ordering another.

And another.

And another.

And one more for luck, because I sure as shit needed it.

CHAPTER SIX

Jack

My only friend was dead.

I don’t remember the walk back from Redemption Ranch, I just suddenly became aware I was outside the halfway house. Sadness like nothing I’d experienced for years had settled over me like a black cloud that refused to shift.

Over the years, Charlie and I had become close, which sounds crazy I know. I killed his wife. And not all the visits were great. Some of them I could feel his struggle with forgiveness. Sometimes he would sit in front of me and talk to God or Sherry about how he was feeling, and I just listened.

He was an astounding man, the best person that existed in Reverence. I was continually amazed by him and my respect forhim was so profound that I wanted so badly to be like him. I promised myself when my life eventually restarted, I was going to be more like Charlie. Live my life in a way that he would be proud of.

Charlie told me that when I was released, he wanted me to come by the ranch. He said he had something for me. I don’t know what, and he never said anything more than that. Just told me that I didn’t need to worry about life once I was out, like he knew how much it stressed me out.

And now I’ll never know what it was, I’ll never get to make him proud of me. To makeanyoneproud of me.

I went into my room and glanced around the four walls with their chips and stains. I had nothing and no one. Except that sensation of wanting my mom, except I didn’t wantmymom, I just wanted comfort and I didn’t know how to get it.

Goddamn, I was thirty now. And yet I felt like I had no clue how tolife.I didn’t know how to do this, but I knew if Charlie was by my side, guiding me, Icoulddo it. Now I was bereft.

I threw myself down on my bed, the springs creaking under my weight. I stared up at the ceiling just waiting for sleep to come. Eventually I slept but was disturbed by dreams of Charlie, Sherry and the accident.

I woke up the next morning, the cloud of misery still hanging over me. I didn’t know how to move on, to move forward, and didn’t want to. I wanted to stay in this pit of despair a little longer. But eventually my back ached too much from lying down.

I got up, pacing my room and attempting to work out what all the ceiling stains were and trying not to dwell on Charlie’s sad passing. I wanted to remember the good times with him, but the pain was too much.

I wasn’t hungry. Wasn’t tired. I needed a distraction. Iread my pamphlet on how to cope with being released from prison. I read the rules and regulations surrounding my accommodation here. I had a 10pm curfew. I checked the clock on the wall that ticked so loudly it was like it was shouting each agonizingly boring second. I had an hour before I was stuck here until morning.

I needed to get out.

Grabbing my leather jacket that was too small but felt like the only thing that was truly mine, I left the house and set off down the street. I just walked, again loving the feeling of being able to walk for as long and as far as I wanted, not confined to an eight by ten cell or the exercise yard.

I ran. It lasted about thirty seconds until I was so out of breath I thought I would pass out. My lungs burned and it felt good to focus on the physical pain rather than the emotional loss of Charlie.

I was thinking about the last time I saw him, two months ago. He hadn’t looked as well as before but I just put it down to grief and tiredness. I wish I’d known. All the things I would have said to him if I’d known.

Thank you.

I’m so grateful.

I feel like your family.

I kept going because of you.

---