Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Ayen

By the time I made it back to my cabin, it was well after roll call and the beginning of the third day of our training.

Jackson, or rather Jax , had left soon after breakfast and walked me back to my cabin where one of my COs, Barlow, was waiting for me.

"You've got this cabin to yourself for the time being, Gonzalez. Don't make me regret that decision."

I nodded to him before ducking inside to change into my uniform for the day.

I hated that Tyson had been sent back to SAC and I hadn't. He'd only acted out of self-defense and yet, he had been punished just the same as the two who'd started the altercation.

He was the one who had been looking forward to this work program since signups were posted. He'd talked me into coming along and yet here I was, the one who got to stay while he was shipped back.

It didn't seem fair. Not when Tyson was a good guy who only wanted to do the right thing at the end of the day. He had a hot temper but only when it was triggered. I'd never quite asked him what he'd been sentenced for, but from the stories he'd told me, it had something to do with drug peddling for one of the local cartels.

Petty shit that a kid his age, sixteen at the time of his sentencing, didn't need to be caught up in, let alone serve a ridiculously long sentence for.

As sad as my sentencing had been, my five years was nothing in comparison to his eighteen. By the time he'd get back out onto the streets, he'd be well into his thirties. I had no doubt that he'd make something of himself, but waiting until that could happen had to be torture.

Thankfully, it was never too late to turn your life around with a drug charge on your record. People dealt with that kind of shit all the time.

Mine was a different story, but that was something future me would get to deal with. For now, I simply needed to keep my head down and continue surviving. Three more years and I would be up for parole.

By the time I got changed and out the door again, Barlow already had an impatient frown etched into his face.

Wordlessly, he led me back to the training grounds where there was a demonstration already going on. I sat on one of the stumps in the back, keeping to myself while I tried to concentrate on what was going on.

I hated that feeling of being alone. Without Tyson around to buffer my social awkwardness, I was going to be doing a lot of shit by myself for the next six weeks. And while in hindsight it wasn't as bad as being thrown in the hole for misbehaving when I got back to the prison, I was also going to heavily miss the companionship.

I knew most of the others in this program but we weren't friendly. Not like Tyson and I were.

Whatever. I was a grown ass adult. I needed to get my act together and stop being upset that I no longer had a friend to hang out with. This program was meant to look good on my record and hopefully, get the parole board to give me a lighter parole sentence once I got out.

I was already looking at a minimum of a year being monitored.

Hopefully, that would be it, though.

A shadow suddenly loomed over me, causing my entire body to tense. I waited, feeling the person behind me hovering closely and hoping they'd pass by soon. When nothing moved, I forced myself to look up.

Jackson was standing right by my stump with Roxy lying down at his feet, her head resting on top of one of his shoes. His arms were crossed over his large chest while he watched the demo ahead of us, a blank expression on his face.

I forced myself not to grin at him and instead, turned back to the demo just as one of my fellow inmates was called up as a volunteer to shoot off a fire extinguisher at one of the blazing fire pits.

For some reason, having Jackson at my back felt comfortable.

Safe even.

Such a difference in how it'd been with my ex. I'd lived in constant fear of that man and what he would do to me if I so much as sneezed wrong. For our entire almost ten year relationship, I'd walked on eggshells. I never knew what would make him flip and go nasty. I often felt like his moods were on a light switch and with one quick flick he'd go from loving and nice to mean and abusive. It was emotionally and mentally draining, that's for sure, but that was no real excuse for what I'd done.

In a way, I was sad for what had transpired between us in the end. No one deserved to be left in the state the bullet had left him in after it'd lodged itself into the left side of his temporal lobe, effectively robbing him of everything but the shell of his former self.

But as fucked up and selfish as it was to think about, I wouldn't take it back. Because in that moment, at the very end of it all, my survival instincts finally kicked in and it was either him or me.

And I chose me.

Probably for the first time in my life.

Jackson unfolded his arms and began to clap, pulling me out of my thoughts while the rest of our group erupted into a smattering of claps to mimic his. One of the volunteer firemen took back the extinguisher once more and thanked his participant before dismissing him back to his stump.

"You want to go up there next?" Jackson whispered at me, his face suddenly twisting into an amused smile.

"You'd have to drag me up there by my hair," I quipped back, not thinking twice.

He only chuckled but didn't push any further. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

A shiver rolled up my spine.

His words almost sounded like a promise.

A promise I almost wanted him to follow through with.