Page 5 of Pen Pal

"That failed miserably," I muttered. "Did you miss the part where I said Keith was being released and bragged about the next kid he would abuse?"

She cringed with disgust, looking to Gerald and back to me. I could tell she was conflicted. The ends justified the means, as faras I was concerned.

How dedicated was she to make the world a better place if she wouldn't break a few rules to make it happen?

"So my question is this, Amara. Who's really the monster? The penal system that gives a slap on the wrist to habitual sexual offenders, or people like me, who prevent them from destroying more lives?" I snapped.

Her lower lip quivered just a little, subtle enough for others not to notice. But I was watching her intently.

I wondered what would really happen here; would she redeem me, or would I corrupt her?

"I think that's enough for today," Gerald announced, the chair scraping against the ground as he stood. "I'll relay this new information to the judge, find out which deputies worked that shift, and subpoena them. They probably heard what he said before you attacked him, and information like that might stop a jury from convicting you."

Amara cleared her throat and stood, placing her neat little papers back in her bag. Gerald walked around her, exiting the room and leaving me alone with her.

My hand snapped forward, wrapping around her wrist. She gasped, regarding me warily as my grip tightened.

"If I do these worksheets and mail them in, will you write me back?" I wondered. "It gets awful lonely in here for men like me."

She tried pulling out of my grip, but she couldn't. "W-we'll see," she stammered. "If you can be honest and vulnerable in your reflection, I'll reply."

I could be honest, but being vulnerable would be a challenge. I never opened up to anyone, not even Vitali.

"I'll hold you to that, Amara," I breathed, releasing her wrist.

She scurried for the door, and I turned, watching her ass bounce as she took quick steps before disappearing behind the door.

Maybe I'll try this vulnerable thing, I thought. If it would get her to come back and keep in touch with me, I was tempted to open those floodgates to my fucked up past.

But I won't let her pretend she's not mine for long.

The guards took me back to my cell, and I immediately sat at my desk, looking over the worksheets. I chose one and filled it out as honestly as I could, but it wasn't enough. I wanted her to write back, not just about what I wrote in the worksheets, but about her as a person.

Dear Amara,

I thoughtI should warn you, my little lawyer. I don't do self-help. I don't sit in circles and cry about my past. I don't believe in second chances or fresh starts. Men like me don't get those.

But you want me to fill this out, so I did. Not because I give a damn about "growth" or "rehabilitation." But because it means you'll read my words. Because it means, for a few minutes, I'll have your attention.

You asked me to list my biggest regret. There's a lot I should regret. Things I've done. Things I will do. But my biggest regret? I regret that you walked into my life when I had nothing left to offer you but the wreckage of who I am.

You also asked me to write down my biggest fear. Men like me don't get scared, Amara. But if I did—if I ever lost sleep over something—it wouldn't be the life sentence hanging over my head. It wouldn't be the bars that keep me in, the fights, or even the possibility of an early, bloody end. It would be this.

An empty cell. A stack of letters that never get answered. Silence where your voice should be.

I don't expect you to fix me. I don't expect you to save me. But don't make the mistakeof thinking I don't need you. You might be the only thing keeping me human. Don't give up on me yet.

And if you ever try to disappear from my life, Amara… I'll find a way to bring you back. One way or another.

- Enzo

I smirked as I stuffed the letter in the addressed envelope, copying it from Gerald's business card he gave me when he first became my lawyer. I placed it in the outgoing mailbox and then returned to my cell.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," I warned Vitali as I grabbed my shampoo, soap, towel, and another uniform.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Vitali laughed as he stood, stretched, and waltzed out of our cell.

I pulled the shower curtain open, stepped inside, then closed it. I draped my towel over the shower rod along with my clean clothes and placed the soap and shampoo by the shower knob.

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