Lifers Page 6

  Even so, I didn’t feel completely free. I probably never would. I would always carry the knowledge that my brother was dead because I was an asshole. There were days when I wished they’d lock me away forever, because that’s what I deserved. For reasons I didn’t understand, life had given me a second chance, and that was hard to deal with. I had no clue how to live anymore.

  “Jordan? Jordan Kane?”

  I looked up to see a woman with auburn hair looking at me. Oh shit, I could tell from the way she was staring that she knew me. And there’d been only one person at high school with hair that color.

  “Allison?”

  I stood up, and she immediately took a step back.

  “Wow, it is you!” she said nervously, trying to force a bright smile.

  I nodded and shoved my hands in my pockets.

  “How’ve you been? I mean … I heard you were … out.”

  I nodded again.

  Allison had been my girlfriend when I was a sophomore in high school. Although, thinking back, there had been quite a number of them. We were together the night Mikey died. We’d been making out until I was too wasted to know who I was with or what the fuck I was doing. I’d only seen her once since then and that was the day I’d been sentenced. She cried.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t write,” she said, twisting the strap of her purse around her fingers.

  “It’s okay.”

  What else could I say? I don’t think I would have written back if she had.

  “I should have,” she continued. “I wanted to … I just didn’t know what to say.”

  Christ, this is awkward.

  I looked over to the coffee shop but there was still no sign of Torrey.

  “How are your folks?” asked Allison, tentatively.

  “Yeah, they’re … okay. It’s hard for them, y’know?”

  She nodded.

  “How’ve you been?” I asked. “Did you go to college like you wanted?”

  She smiled her first genuine smile.

  “Yes, I did! I just graduated with my MBA from Texas State.”

  “Wow, that’s great. Good for you. Um, I thought you wanted to study Dance and Theater?”

  She pulled a face.

  “That was just a pipe dream. I … I grew up a lot after … after what happened. I’m so sorry, Jordan. I never got to tell you that.”

  Her words had me all choked up, and I could see from the look on her face that she felt the same way.

  “You look good,” she breathed out, reaching out to touch my arm and tracing a finger along one of my tattoos.

  Her voice was filled with regret, but I didn’t think it was for me.

  “Thanks. You, too,” I muttered.

  I searched again for Torrey, but instead I saw a skinny guy with glasses walking toward us.

  “Hey, there’s my girl,” he said, placing a possessive arm around Allison’s shoulders and giving me a hard stare.

  Allison’s cheeks flushed, and her words collided as she struggled to introduce us.

  “Oh, Henry, this is, um, this is Jordan. We were … friends … in high school.”

  He held out his hand, and after a short pause I shook it. I was surprised and sort of amused when he tried to crush my knuckles. I squeezed back a little harder than I should have and saw him wince.

  “Alli didn’t mention you,” he said, pretending to be all jokey.

  “You know that’s not true,” she said, quietly. “This is Jordan,” and the way she emphasized my name, I could see the exact second that he finally got it.

  His eyes widened and he tugged Allison more closely into his side.

  “The ex-con?”

  She elbowed him hard in the ribs.

  “Yep, that’s me,” I said, the bitterness evident in my voice.

  “Um, we should go now,” said Allison, yanking on her boyfriend’s jacket. “Nice seein’ you again, Jordan. I hope … it all goes well. Say hi to your folks for me.”

  As she walked away, they seemed to be arguing.

  A moment later, Torrey came practically dancing from the coffee shop.

  “That looked uncomfortable,” she said, cocking her head toward Allison and the prick. “I saw them from the window. Who are they?”

  I was irritated by her nosiness, so I just shrugged. “Girl I knew from high school and her boyfriend.”

  “Okay,” she said, accepting my answer immediately.

  Then I felt like the prick for being so defensive.

  “Allison was my girlfriend at the time … at the time I was sent to juvie. I haven’t seen her since. The guy was her boyfriend, I guess.”

  Torrey sat down next to me on the bench and patted my knee.

  “Bet that sucked, seeing her again.”

  Hell, yeah!

  “It was okay, I guess. Her boyfriend was a prick.”

  She laughed. “He probably didn’t like the fact that his girlfriend’s ex looks like a freakin’ model!”

  I was pretty sure I turned red, hearing her words.

  “I think the whole jailbird vibe made him uncomfortable,” I said, forcing out a hollow laugh. “But at least she spoke to me, which is more than most people have done. Didn’t suck too bad.”

  “See!” she said, sounding delighted. “Things are getting better already!”

  I wouldn’t have gone that far, but still, it hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. Maybe she was right.

  “Hey! Wake up!” she yelled, poking me in the side. “Didn’t you hear what I said? We have to go celebrate!”

  I rubbed my ribs, and she grinned at me as she stood up.

  “Celebrate what?”

  “Me getting a job, doofus! Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “Uh, that’s pretty neat, Torrey, but I cain’t go into a bar.”

  Her face fell. “Oh, that’s right.” Then she smiled. “Okay, well I can’t buy you a coffee yet either as the only decent place isn’t open, but how about pizza?”

  I practically drooled when she mentioned pizza. I hadn’t had one since I got out, and the ones you got in prison, well, let’s just say if I’d slapped some tomato paste on the sole of my shoe it would have been tastier.

  “Ha, the look on your face!” she said, pointing a finger at me. “If a guy ever looks at me that way, it’ll be a first.”

  I stared at her in surprise.

  “Seriously? But you’re gorgeous!”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You think I’m gorgeous? Wait, don’t answer that—I don’t want to give you the chance to take it back.”

  She smiled and linked her arm through mine again. I really liked the way it felt.

  “You are,” I said, quietly. “You are gorgeous. Any guy would be crazy not to think so.”

  She flashed her beautiful smile at me and leaned her head against my arm.

  “Thanks! You’re not so bad yourself, Auto Man.”

  We strolled along in the late morning sunshine, just like any of the other couples out at the new mall. It was so normal, yet it felt utterly bizarre, like someone would jump up and start yelling shit at me, saying I shouldn’t be around ordinary folk. I started tensing up, my eyes darting around, waiting for the attack to begin.

  Torrey tugged lightly on my arm, her expression worried. “Too much?”

  “Um, just…”

  I scrubbed my hands over my face hard enough to tear the skin off. I felt her grab my wrists.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. And if it does, I’ll protect you.”

  The idea of her protecting me was comical. She was nearly a foot shorter and probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet.

  She smiled. “Take-out pizza?”

  I nodded, relieved she’d understood.

  “Yeah, that would be great. Um, but I don’t have any money.”

  She shook her head. “I told you—my treat. Your money doesn’t work here today. Besides, you’re going to fix my car for me, aren’t you?”

  I almost
smiled. “Yes, ma’am. That I am.”

  She poked me in the ribs again.

  “Stop calling me ‘ma’am’! It makes me feel about a hundred. If you do it again, next time I’ll kick you in the nuts. Understand?”

  I didn’t think she was joking. “Yes, ma… Torrey.”

  “So what do you like on your pizza?”

  I scanned the menu in the window and my mouth watered at the thought of a meat feast with ham, pepperoni, beef and chicken.

  “I don’t mind. Whatever you like.”

  “Stop doing that,” she said, frowning. “Stop trying to please everyone all the time. Just tell me what you want on your damn pizza.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, “I’m not used to … having a choice.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, patting my shoulder. “Just tell me.”

  “Could I have the meat feast?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a guy—I should have known,” and she pushed me with her shoulder.

  She was so tactile, touching me the whole time. But it wasn’t weird or a come on, it was just how she was.

  We had to wait in the pizzeria while they put our order together. She held my hand the whole time, letting me know that she was there for me.

  The waiter kept throwing worried glances at us, like he was one twitchy finger away from dialing 911.

  “It’s okay, Jordan,” Torrey whispered. “Try to relax. You look like you’re about to make a run for it, and you’re making him nervous. We’ll be out of here in just a few minutes, and that meat feast will be partying in your mouth.”

  Then she palmed her face and groaned.

  “I can’t believe I just said that. It sounded really bad. Don’t ever remind me I said that!”

  I didn’t know what to say when she winked at me and grinned. I just took a deep breath and smiled back.

  God, this woman! She just had a way of making everything okay … bearable.

  The pizzas arrived and Torrey pulled out her wallet, handing over a credit card. I picked up the boxes, desperate to get the hell out. I held the door while Torrey scooped up the two cans of soda, and then we headed back to my truck. The smell was driving me crazy and I must have been walking faster than usual because Torrey yelled at me to slow down.

  “I can’t keep up,” she yelped. “Just because your damn legs go on forever, it doesn’t mean mine do!”

  “I think your legs are just fine,” I said, automatically.

  Yeah, like I haven’t thought about them every second of every day since I met her.

  “Have you been checking out my legs, Jordan Kane?”

  Up until that moment, I didn’t know that prison had sucked out my mental filter along with everything else I’d lost. I felt my face get hot, but Torrey just gave a quiet little laugh and let me wriggle off the hook.

  We rolled down the windows in the truck so it wouldn’t get all steamed up. Yeah, that had me thinking things, too. I tried to concentrate on eating. As soon as I opened the lid, the scent of melted cheese, tomatoes, spice and the meat feast had me drooling. I took a huge bite and felt my eyes roll back in my head. That shit was good.

  “I think someone’s enjoying their pizza,” Torrey deadpanned.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, around a second slice. “’Sfuckin’ wunnerful!”

  She smiled and shoved the best part of a whole slice in her mouth. That got me thinking stuff, too. But the lure of the pizza pulled my mind back out of the gutter.

  We ate in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. I was just a guy eating pizza in his truck with a pretty woman sitting next to him. It was … normal.

  As soon as I had that thought, the guilt flooded back. And, as always, a huge rock sat in my stomach, sickening me.

  “You’ve got that look again,” said Torrey.

  I didn’t even bother to ask what she meant—I already knew.

  I sighed and closed the lid on the pizza box. Maybe I’d be able to eat the rest later.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “No. Won’t help.”

  “Are you sure about that? Have you tried?”

  I stared straight ahead out of the window.

  “My counselor said…” I darted a sideways look, but her face showed no reaction. “My counselor said I should talk about … stuff.”

  “Okay…” said Torrey, carefully. “But you don’t because…?”

  My eyes dropped to the steering wheel. “There’s no one to listen.”

  She rested her hand lightly on my thigh.

  “There is now.”

  I tried to get the words out, but nothing was happening. Her fingers slid away, and I hung my head, defeated.

  “Tell me about Mikey. I’d like to hear about your brother.”

  “He was the best,” I said. “The best guy, the best son, the best brother. You’d have liked him.”

  Torrey

  I’d thought we’d had a breakthrough with the pizza, you know, doing something ordinary, but he closed up again half way through. I could practically hear the prison doors of his mind slam shut.

  I knew a guy at college who’d gone to see a friend in prison once. Just one visit had given him nightmares for weeks: the noise, the dehumanization of people, the smell.

  So I figured if Jordan couldn’t talk about the bad stuff, maybe remembering the good times he’d had with his brother might be easier.

  As soon as I mentioned Mikey’s name, he changed again, a smile lighting his lovely face.

  “He was the best,” he said, sincerely. “The best guy, the best son, the best brother. You’d have liked him.” He paused, “Everyone loved him, he was easy to love.”

  “Was he as good looking as his brother?”

  He lifted an eyebrow at me and grinned—a for-real, all out, teeth-showing grin. It was just a glimpse of the cocky young kid I imagined he’d been. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any cuter. Live and learn.

  “When we were younger, people thought we were twins.”

  “And later?”

  “His hair is … was darker than mine and he kept it short.” He swept a hand through his messy curls. “He was a big guy—the high school quarterback, just solid muscle, but a bit shorter than me. I was kind of skinny back then.”

  His smile faded. I was desperate to keep him positive and upbeat. He had a great smile and I wanted to see more of it.

  “That explains it.”

  He glanced over. “Explains what?”

  “The cut-offs you wear when you’re gardening. They look like they’re about to fall off.” Not that I’d mind.

  But instead of smiling again, he frowned.

  “Yeah.”

  I waited but he didn’t explain. I was about to explode with frustration. Trying to get him to talk was worse than pulling teeth.

  “And? Don’t just tell me ‘yeah’ and then go all quiet!”

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “For fuck’s sake, Jordan! Don’t be sorry all the time—just talk to me!”

  He looked at me warily.

  “Am I pissing you off?”

  “Hell, yeah!”

  “Sorry … I mean…” He sighed. “I didn’t think anyone would mind—about the clothes. When I left prison none of my old stuff fit anymore. They don’t let you leave in your TDCJ uniform.”

  “What the hell’s that?”

  He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his forehead.

  “Texas Department of Criminal Justice. We all wore uniforms so prisoners can be easily identified. I think it’s to depersonalize you, too, ya know, so corrections’ officers don’t form associations or whatever.”

  “Was it striped? Not that you wouldn’t look good in stripes.”

  I wanted to bring back his lovely smile but all he managed was a wry twist of his lips.

  “Ha, no stripes. No arrows, either. Nah, we had to wear these white cotton pullover shirts and white elastic pants. But those are State property. So when I was rele
ased, I got issued a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was all they had in my size. I don’t know, I didn’t ask. When I got home, I took some t-shirts and a couple of pairs of jeans from Mikey’s room. They’d kept it all, so … I really didn’t think it would matter…”

  He looked down.

  “I take it that didn’t go down well with your parents.”

  He shook his head sadly.

  “You could say that. Momma screamed at me then started cryin’. Dad yelled, sayin’ how I’d been home five minutes and had already upset my momma, and that I was an ungrateful bastard after they’d agreed to have me back … that it was disrespectin’ my dead brother … I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I just needed some clothes.”

  He sounded so upset and frustrated, I wanted to lean over and give him a big hug. But I didn’t.

  “So what happened?”

  “They let me keep the shit I’d already taken. Momma said I’d ‘defiled’ them, so there was no point puttin’ them back. She got me some stuff from Goodwill after that.”

  I was so angry with his parents. What the hell was the matter with them?

  “Jordan, you didn’t do anything wrong. Your parents overreacted, that’s all. I guess that’s to be expected, but it’s not your fault. If they’d thought about it for two seconds they’d have realized you needed clothes to wear.”

  He shook his head in silent disagreement.

  I tried to think of a way to lighten the mood. “Anyway, I like the baggy shorts.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure,” I said, with an evil grin. “I keep wondering how far south they’re going to go. I’m thinking of running a pool. Maybe some of the moms in the neighborhood would like in on it.”

  He looked taken aback for a moment, then his shy smile came out again and I think he might have been blushing. Damn, that was cute.

  But, as ever, his good mood didn’t last.

  He glanced at the clock on the truck’s dash.

  “We’d better get back,” he said, sadly. “Your momma is gonna be callin’ the police to say I’ve abducted you if we stay out any longer.”

  “Jordan Kane, did you just crack a joke?”

  He looked surprised. “Um, no?”

  “Well, I thought it was funny.”

  He considered that for a few seconds then smiled a little, but didn’t reply.