Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [28]
Some days I don’t even see the point in getting out of my bunk because I’m not going anywhere. That’s when I close my eyes and think of you. I’ve made so many mistakes, but you are not one of them. Even though my heart’s breaking right now for both of us, even though I want you so bad I hurt with it, I’m not sorry for that pain because it lingers like no ache I’ve ever had. There’s a sweetness to it because I know it’s ending, and when I see you, everything will be all right again. Because you love me, even if I’m a monster. Six hundred soldiers, March. How can I live with that? Sometimes I ask myself this question, knowing my barrister is preparing my defense.
I won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt—the thought of you going. It makes me feel like I’m losing you, but you need something to do. And your nephew needs you. I get it.
My time’s almost up. Guard’s coming to take me back to my cell. I’m not allowed to take this device with me. So let me say that I miss you and I hope your search goes well.
Jax
CHAPTER 8
The female guard escorts me back to my cell, where a meal is waiting for me. “So how’s prison working out for you? Three squares a day,” she says. “Exercise with the other cellies. I hope you like your own company.”
Then she locks me in again. A hum and a buzz—that’s all it takes to drive home an immutable sense of isolation. At least I still have March’s letter; I read it a hundred times more, and I miss him so much it hurts. But he’s right—I don’t want to be rescued. I understand why he’s not sitting around Ocklind. He has a personal mission right now . . . but I treasure that letter like nothing I ever owned.
I didn’t put down my true feelings—that I do feel like he’s abandoning me. But what could he do if he stayed? It could be months before we go to trial, and I can’t see him even in the courtroom as the proceedings will be closed. There’s nothing he can do here for me, but I hate that he left.
Thereafter, the days pass in a monotonous nightmare. I once saw an old vid where convicts adopted rats and cockroaches to stave off loneliness, but my cell is clean, no cracks where anything can crawl in.
Except despair. There’s plenty of room for that.
To drive off the madness, I cast back to my combat training and run through the drills, practicing forms and fighting an imaginary opponent. From there, I move to stretches against the wall, crunches, push-ups. After a while, I stop counting; I just work until sweat streams off me, my muscles feel like water, and I cannot do another rep. At that point I stagger to my bunk and lie there in a daze. Rinse, repeat. As time passes, I notice a difference in my body, what they call prison fit.
Ms. Hale comes by regularly to pick my brain as she shapes my defense. Otherwise, I sit in my cell alone, poking at my food and waiting for the bright spot that is exercise time. There are five other female prisoners in my block, but they don’t speak to me. For obvious reasons, the guards don’t encourage fraternization.
On my tenth day in custody, things change. The old guard lady comes to fetch me earlier than usual, before I’ve had my first meal.
“Your barrister’s here.”
Mary, I hope it’s good news. Without letting my hopes spike too sharply, I follow the old screw down the hall to the visiting chambers. Ms. Hale is as polished and coiffed as ever. Not for the first time, I wonder about her fees; but she refuses to discuss that with me, as I am her client but not her employer.
“You have news?” I say in greeting.
“Good morning to you as well, Ms. Jax. You’re looking thin.”
My cheeks heat. “Sorry. It’s hard to remember my manners in here.”
“I understand.