Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Ayen

Falling back into the rhythm of being at SAC was, sadly, too easy.

I'd hoped that with spending a total of just over three weeks outside of these walls that I'd somehow lost my paranoia of looking over my shoulder every five minutes to make sure I wasn't about to get jumped.

But apparently, things like that were a hard habit to break. Maybe I never would quite get rid of that paranoia that came over me every time I felt someone brush past me while walking by, waiting for the inevitable toss up or the press of a shiv against my kidney and the whispered threat to give them all my commissary or for an elbow to be shoved in my ribs and told to fuck off.

Life outside had felt peaceful. Life with Jackson had felt peaceful.

Now, all I had was my tiny cell with my cellmate again. No more sunsets to watch, or clean mountain air to breathe in, or cute golden retrievers to bury their cool noses in my side. I guess the only silver lining to all of that was that we all got sent back to SAC, including Barker, in order to ‘reevaluate' those eligible for the program.

Luckily, no one seemed inclined to blame me or bother me much, and they were more focused on being pissed off at the Warden for punishing us all collectively for the decision. Even our COs were a bit baffled by having us all be sent back.

And at least I had Tyson back, too.

"Sooo, what's the letter say this week?" He swung down into my bunk where I'd squished myself against the wall.

Before he could take a peek at it, I folded the few pages up carefully and smoothed them out on my lap. "Just some updates on my court case."

Which wasn't a total lie.

Since coming back here some five weeks ago, Jackson had been regularly sending me letters with updates from Nina about her meeting with the judge and whatever else was going on in the outside world. I lived for hearing from him. I was thankful that he'd even wanted to remain in contact at all.

Receiving every letter was like getting a piece of my soul to finally come alive again. I missed him deeply and often found myself daydreaming about what we could be up to if I'd just bitten the bullet and let myself be partnered with him the day of the fire.

I'd long since forgiven him for visiting Alex and kicked myself often for not talking it out with him before everything had happened. By now, the program would've been done and over with, anyway, and I'd be back at SAC, but at least I would've gotten a few more weeks with him in person.

I missed him.

Tyson nudged my shoulder. "Hey, what's?—?"

" Gonzalez !"

My body jolted at the sound of Barlow yelling for me.

I scrambled off of my bunk and tucked my letter under my pillow. Tyson followed me as we headed out onto the platform overlooking the common area. There was a folded up piece of paper in Barlow's hand that he waved at me once he spotted me.

"Let's go. Lawyer's here."

"Knock ‘em dead." Tyson slapped my ass.

Flashing him a look, I quickly jogged down the steps to the common area and followed after Barlow as he walked to the door. Once it was buzzed open, Browne appeared on the other side with a set of handcuffs ready to go. Automatically, I held up my arms and let him cuff me, waiting patiently while he attached the short bar in between my wrists to keep me from reaching out and grabbing anything on the way down.

My stomach twisted uncomfortably. Either Nina was visiting me to tell me the bad news that there was nothing she could do for me, or this was her telling me that she's actually performed a fucking miracle and gotten us a court date.

I didn't want to get my hopes up over it, but with each letter that came in with Jackson pleading with me to hang on just for a little longer, it had me wanting to.

Hope was a dangerous thing when you were in prison. It let you paint a false reality that could quickly come crashing down once the pieces of the puzzle all finally found their homes. I'd give anything to see Jackson again, even if it meant having to stay locked up for the rest of my three years left.

Barlow and Browne escorted me down to the visitor center and into a small, private room where Nina was already sitting at the table, a thick folder in front of her. She smiled at me and stood once I was brought over to her, her eyes growing a little sad when I raised my arms up to carefully squeeze into the stationary seat attached to the table.

Once the COs had the door shut, she sat back down again. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." My palms were clammy when I wiped them against my thighs. "What about you?"

She snorted. "Busy. You've got me running around quite a bit."

Instantly, I felt bad. "I'm sor?—"

"Oh stop," she chastised. "I've been dying for a good case."

See, the funny thing about Nina was that she reminded me a lot of Jackson. Both of them were the kind of workers to love running themselves into the ground and did it with a smile on their faces. Sitting around and doing nothing was like a death sentence to them and the more work piled onto their plate, the better off their mental health was.

"Well, you're welcome then," I joked.

She smiled at me. "That's the spirit."

Opening up the folder, she spread out a few pages and spun them around to face me. "I've already submitted your appeal. We've got a court date on Friday. What I need from you is to go through these and read them, and then, if you agree to what's written, I need you to sign and date them."

A court date.

She really is a fucking miracle worker.

Looking back up at her, I asked, "You actually did it."

"Hey, don't give me credit yet. We've still got to meet with the judge. I'm trying to get you time served. Callahan's not one to overturn a conviction even with substantially more evidence submitted. But as long as I can get the evidence that was previously thrown out about your past history with the victim, then we have a shot at getting you out of here."

My heart thudded. "How soon?"

"As soon as fucking Friday, kid."

Holy shit.

"Like I said, though…" she went on. "We've got to meet with the judge first and see what he says. He could order a retrial with new circumstances with the new evidence submitted or he could throw out what was used previously and have us start over with what's left. It's all up to him what will happen."

Honestly, she could be talking gibberish and it'd still sound the same to me. All I was hearing was that yes there was a real shot that I could be getting out of here soon.

As soon as fucking Friday, like she said.

I could see Jackson as soon as Friday.

Blowing out a breath, I nodded at her and set my hands down on top of the table. "Okay, tell me where to sign."