Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

ZAIN

"Can you do it tonight or is that too short notice?"

"No, tonight is fine. What time?"

"Nine. Could you bring a couple of … volunteers? I'll pay them for their time." I lie back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling.

Will I ever get used to not being able to reach out a hand and touch it from my bunk?

"You don't have any friends who'll be there?"

"No. Not local, anyway."

"Then I can arrange that for you, yes. So, just to clarify. Nine p.m., at Raven's Hall?"

"That's right."

"Then I'll see you there, Mr. Ryder."

I toss the cell onto the nightstand, and tuck my hands beneath my head. It feels wrong—the plump pillows, the way the mattress adjusts to my weight, the soft cotton sheets, the faint scent of citrus rising from the bedding. I'm used to a thin mattress, coarse sheets and the smell of industrial strength detergent.

I know it's only been a couple of nights, but I'm not sure this will ever feel normal to me .

A soft tap at the door pulls my thoughts away from the abyss, and I sit up.

"Come in."

The door swings open to reveal my mom.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb you but … I don't like how we left things."

"Left things?" I frown, thinking back to the last conversation we had. "It's fine, Mom."

"No, it's not." She steps into the room. "You're a grown man, and I'm sure you know what you're doing. I just can't help but worry. I have to remember you're not twenty anymore."

I stand up and meet her in the center of the room. "It's okay. It's an adjustment for everyone. Not just me. But I swear, I'm fine."

She reaches out and takes one of my hands in both of hers. "I need to stop seeing the son I lost, and focus on the man you've become. I just worry about you, that's all."

I pat her hand, then pull free. When her face falls, I touch her cheek. "I know. And I appreciate it."

Walking over to the dresser, I pull open a drawer. "I need to shower and change before I go and meet Ashley."

"Does Esme know?"

"I don't know what Ashley has told her. Why? You think she won't approve?"

She doesn't answer me. I take out a pair of black jeans, underwear, socks, and a black T-shirt, then turn to face her.

"Mom?"

"Esme co-owns ‘Don't Forget The Past', a store in town. Living in the same place, it's hard to avoid people, and a little while after Bryan died, I ran into her. She said she was sorry about what happened. She didn't say it outright, but I don't think she approved of Ashley being part of the trial."

Interesting.

"Hindsight is a wonderful thing." I move past her, heading for the bathroom.

"Zain."

I pause in the doorway, and look over my shoulder.

"I know you say you know what you're doing, but please be careful."

I smile, but don't reply, walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me. Stripping out of my clothes, I start to cross the floor to the shower, then stop, when movement on my left catches my eye. My head turns, and I'm faced with my reflection.

My eyes dip down to the scar above my right hip, then over to the one on my left thigh. There are a couple more on my back, but they're covered by a tattoo. If my mom saw them, she'd lose her shit. They bear witness to just how bad it was inside the prison when I first got there. The beatings, the attacks, the fear that every day would be my last.

Giving myself a mental shake, I turn away.

That time is over now. My life has moved on, and once I've dealt with Ashley, I can focus on living the life Jason and Louisa would have wanted for me.

I don't linger in the shower, staying there long enough to wash and rinse. It takes me less than five minutes—another skill acquired in prison. You didn't stay naked for longer than necessary. It sent messages to other inmates that you might be available for entertainment.

When I return to the bedroom, it's empty. I dress, grab the car keys from the dresser, and make my way downstairs. No one appears to stop me, and I walk through the house and into the garage.

When I reach the Mercedes, I pause, and my gaze moves to the covered car beside it. I look down at the keys in my hand, then back at both cars. Changing direction, I wrap my hands into the cover and drag it off. Moving to the driver's side, I stroke my fingers over the gleaming red paint.

"Want to go for a ride, baby?" I unlock the door and settle into the driver's seat.

My fingers curl around the steering wheel, and I tip back my head, close my eyes, and inhale. The scent of leather fills my nose.

The smile which pulls my lips up feels odd on my face, and when I turn the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life, it elevates my soul.

"Fuck, yeah." I press my foot to the pedal, and ease the Mustang out of its parking bay and through the doors of the garage.

As soon as I'm on the road, I hit the gas, and the car takes off, engine purring and I'm grinning like a mad man by the time I pull up outside Ashley's house.