Torn (47 page)

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Authors: C.J. Fallowfield

BOOK: Torn
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“Why are you doing this?” she
cried as she stepped toward me. I swallowed hard and forced myself to move
back, when all I wanted to do was run forward and force my arms through the gaps
in the bars to hold her again. To feel her holding me. Could I survive ten
years without her touch or her smile? “I love you and you love me, I know you
do.”

“Five months we were seeing each
other, you really think that’s love?!” I laughed, shaking my head at her,
hating the words coming out of my mouth.

“I know it was. You think being
mean and spiteful and making up lies is going to make me stop believing in you,
in us? You can’t be that naïve, Nate. I
do
love
you, and nothing
you say or do is ever going to change how I feel or make me give up on you.”

“Do you have any idea how many
girls I’ve fucked, Sky? They all thought they loved me, but what they really
loved were the orgasms I gave them. You’re just a stupid kid, you don’t even
know what love is.”

“I’m being more of an adult now
than you are!” she shot back, anger firing up in her veins as she challenged
me. “I think you’re scared, you’re scared about what’s going to happen, but
you’re more scared of losing me, of me giving up on you and moving on with
someone else. So to try and ease that, you’re trying to push me away. That or
you’re trying to be noble, setting me free because you don’t want me to ruin my
life by waiting for you!”

“Shut up and get the fuck out,” I
growled. She was so close to breaking me. I felt like a rabid dog had been let
loose and was ripping me apart from the inside out.

“You
killed
someone for
me
,
Nate. You looked after Billy like he was your brother, so I know you didn’t
kill him for any other reason than he was going to hurt me. That just makes my
love for you even stronger than it was before, and I didn’t think that was
possible. That’s how much you love me. You love me enough to spend ten years in
prison, so I’m going to love you enough to spend ten years missing you and being
faithful. Even if you refuse to let me see you, I’m not giving up on you. I’m
just not.”

“Guard!” I roared, beyond my
endurance for pain. “GUARD!”

“Don’t push me away, Nate. I can
help you, you need me,” she whispered, stepping up to the bars and reaching her
hand through them, elongating her fingers toward me. I so desperately wanted to
reach out and touch them one last time. It took every ounce of strength I had
left in me to keep my fists clenched at my side.

“Step back now,” barked the guard
as he appeared, and Sky reluctantly did as she was told.

“Get her the fuck out of here,” I
demanded with a glare at him. “I don’t want to talk to her or hear her whining
anymore.”

“You heard him, lady. Make your
way to the exit, please,” he ordered, trying to herd her out.

“See you later, Ace, I love you,”
she called over her shoulder, her brown eyes filling with tears. Fuck me, she
never cried. She had to go and fucking cry and rip the rest of my heart out.

“Goodbye, Sky,” I stated as
coldly as I could, knowing what she’d take from that one word that we’d
promised never to say to each other. The look on her face finished me off, and
I had to turn my back on her and walk over to the sink.

The second I heard the door
close, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor, curled up in a ball, and
cried like I’d never cried in my whole life. I was broken. There was only so
much a guy could take, and the last few months had taken me well beyond that.
I’d lost my dream of playing baseball, I’d lost my ma, my cousin, and now Sky.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to believe that she was strong enough to fight for us,
to believe in us until I got out. For me to believe that, then have my hopes
dashed, would be worse than the pain I was in right now. But if she loved me
even a fraction of the amount I loved her, which I was sure she did, there was
hope.

Ten years was a long time to
carry that weight, but surely it was better than a lifetime without it.

 

Sky

 

I sobbed in Mom’s arms in the back
of the car while Pops and Josh sat up front, not saying a word. I was in agony,
like someone had poured bleach down my throat and it was eroding me bit by
painful bit. It wasn’t his words that were hurting me, I didn’t believe them
for a minute. It was the fact that he needed me, but was lashing out and shutting
me out. I was devastated that he was in so much pain and I was powerless to do
anything to help him. He was being Nate. The kind and selfless man I loved,
putting my perceived needs in front of his. There was nothing I could do now. I
could turn up at the prison as often as I was allowed, but if he refused to see
me, I was still powerless. I could plead with and beseech Josh to make Nate see
reason, but that wouldn’t be fair to Josh either. And he’d been through so much
too, it had affected him deeply. More loss than anyone should have to deal with
at our young age. I’d think of something, I’d think of a way to show Nate that
I was still fighting for us, that I wouldn’t turn my back on him. I hadn’t been
looking for a boyfriend or love when I met Nate. He was the one who’d convinced
me that it was worth it. Without him, I wouldn’t want to love anyone else. I’d
be fine being single again, because I knew there was no way I could love anyone
again. He was my one and only.

Ten years was nothing compared to
a love like that.

We were eternal.

 

Nate

The Following Day

 

I tried to conceal the fact that I
was shaking inside as I was led through the huge hall, with its arched
two-story-high ceiling and a complete glass wall on the right that overlooked
the recreation area. Cells lined the left-hand wall, ground and first floor,
and in this vast lobby area, inmates were either playing cards at shiny metal
tables that were screwed to the floor, along with the stools, or lounging
around watching the TV that was encased behind a glass screen in an area with
some soft seating. It wasn’t what I’d expected. It was clean and bright, really
modern and spacious. I’d imagined somewhere uncomfortable and cramped, with no
natural daylight. I caught some of the other inmates looking at me and
remembered what Denny, Dad’s prison guard friend, had told me. I held their
gaze as I walked past, making sure I used that cocky strut I’d perfected over
the years.
Show no fear, show no fear
.

“Up the stairs, Hudson,” my
escort advised. I did as I was told, carrying my set of bedding and towels, and
was led along the balcony where I tried to look into the open-barred cells.
They weren’t huge, but seemed to have two bunk beds attached to the wall, as
well as a sink and toilet like the same damn ones I’d hated in jail. There was
also a desk with a stool screwed to the floor and some shelving for personal
effects. Most of the rooms had pictures up on the walls. I didn’t have any, no
personal effects at all. “In here, to your right,” I was ordered.

Cell sixty-four, my new home for
the next ten years. I halted in my tracks, the guard running into the back of
me, as a pair of legs appeared, and a monstrous guy levered himself up from the
upper bunk to fix me with an intimidating glare.
Show no fear, show no fear,
show no fucking fear, Nate
, I warned myself as I damn near crapped my
pants.

“Meet Razor, your cellmate. This
is Hudson. I’ll let you get acquainted.”

The guard left and I stood there,
holding my linen, rooted to the spot. I could fight, my biceps were pretty
powerful from pitching, but against this guy I stood no chance. I was going to
be lucky if I made it through one month in here without being maimed or raped
or forced to perform sexual favors. Razor held the edges of the bunk and
lowered himself down with complete control, moving his bulky body with ease,
like he was wearing his favorite Sunday suit. If he’d auditioned for “The
Mountain” on
Game of Thrones
, that actor would have been looking for
other work.

“What ya’ in for, Hudson?” he
asked gruffly as he turned to face me, crossing his arms, his biceps the size
of my thighs.

“Second degree,” I croaked, then
coughed to clear my throat. “Second degree murder,” I stated as confidently as
I could.

“Did ya’ do it?”

“Yes.” Own your crime, Denny had
told me. The other cons, and guards, usually only hated child molesters and
rapists. A murder charge would likely afford me some protection.

“Good,” he grated out with a
rough voice. “I hate fucking moaners who insist they didn’t. Who’d ya’ kill?”

“My cousin. He drugged my girlfriend
and was about to rape her, so I shot him.” I flinched as he curled his fist and
extended it toward me, preparing myself for a beating. Then I raised my
eyebrows in surprise as he guffawed with laughter.

“I’m giving ya’ a fist bump, not
about to punch ya’. The shit deserved it.”

“Ermmm, thanks?” I shoved the
linen on the desk and returned the gesture. “What are you in for?”

“First degree. My sister’s
boyfriend was smacking her around, so I waited behind his front door one night
and grabbed him from behind, then slit his throat.”

“Slit his … throat?” I felt mine
tighten.

“How I got the nickname, Razor.
Don’t worry kid, you’re safe with me. I just have a severe intolerance to
bullies and don’t think they deserve any warnings.”

“Good to know,” I confirmed,
feeling a little reassured, but nowhere near relaxed.

“I know ya’ from somewhere?” he
frowned, his eyes raking over my face.

“Probably not, I get that a lot,”
I replied, for once not cashing in on my sports status. I just wanted to fly
under the radar here.

“No, I know you from somewhere.
Hudson, right?”

“Yep,” I nodded.

“Nate Hudson, the pitcher?” He
raised his eyebrows in surprise. Fuck!

“Yeah, that’s me, or was me. I’d
kind of like to keep that quiet, I don’t really want to draw attention to
myself.”

“You’ve got a fast arm, talented
kid. Any thoughts ya’ have of not getting attention, forget them. A pretty boy with
that tight ass? They’re gonna be on ya’ like flies on shit.”

“They, or you?” I asked, my
stomach roiling at the thought of it.

“Me?” He laughed again. “No
fucker’s touching any part of my anatomy with a cock, or hand, no matter how
desperate we might get in here. You’re safe from me.”

“You are from me too,” I replied,
which was a stupid statement. How would someone like me overpower a guy that
size? “But how am I supposed to protect myself?”

“I can sort ya’ something to
protect yourself if ya’ want? But otherwise ya’ stick with me. If we’re
separated, ya’ keep your back to the wall and ya’ spend your free time bulking
up and learning to fight dirty. Don’t worry, kid, I like ya’ and I’ve got your
back.”

When it was time to head down to
eat, Razor walked at my side. He walked with purpose, slowly, predatory,
maximizing his bulk as he eyeballed people. I had a lot to learn from him, as
no one was looking either of us in the eye. In baseball terms, I’d thrown the
fastest ball of my life by getting paired up with this guy. He commanded
respect and had a whole don’t-fuck-with-me aura about him. I wondered if it was
chance that I’d been put in his cell, or if I owed Denny a debt of gratitude.
Razor was right though. I was in good shape, but athletic shape, not fighting
shape. I was going to need to train every day.

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