Chapter Sixteen 346

Chapter Sixteen

Dominic

Eight years later

There’s a scrape of metal on metal as the bars move in front of me. “You’re free to go,” the officer states with a monotone voice. He probably hates his life and I don’t blame him. This place is where dreams go to die.

The stale smell of urine and shit is embedded in the concrete and bricks of this place. Sometimes I wish it was blood. The initial scent, not several days old. The fresh aroma of iron. That would be better.

I don’t say a word as I pass the prison guard, I don’t want to take the chance of being taken as aggressive. They’ll find any excuse to revoke my release. I can’t stay here one second longer. I’m needed on the outside.

They hand me back the clothes I came in with and I quickly remove my orange jumpsuit like a lizard shedding its skin. I want to leave all of this behind so I don my faded jeans and white shirt. The outfit hits me like a fist to the gut. This is what I was wearing when they took me away from Swayze. I’m going to get my baby girl back if it’s the last thing I do. My chest constricts like there’s a serpent around my heart. I’m hoping she’s okay, that she used everything I had left behind for her. When they took me in, I told them to give everything to her. It’s hers to do with what she wants.

My truck, the house, and everything inside. At least she wouldn’t have to live with Mer anymore. She could have a better life there, the life she deserved. The life she should have been given from day one. I know it’s not something I could’ve done before, but at least she can reap the benefits of it now. Volunteering the first time to go in definitely helped my circumstance. This go around in prison was like a sequel to my first stint. I silenced, threatened, and killed to better my place in the organization. Whatever Archie wanted, I did. Luckily he wasn’t upset with me because of the situation I found myself in. He trusted me to not drag him into my mess, and I didn’t. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help me with my issue. Not that I asked. I mean, I don’t know what he could have done since I literally shot my daughter in front of the cops and dozens of bystanders. But I could find the silver lining in it. It gave me the time I needed to come to terms with my fucked up morals. To come to the realization I don’t need morals. I’d kill anyone to get Swayze back in my arms.

Following the guard through the different security levels, I catch sight of inmates that I’ve taken my fist to and give them a look that says if you talk someone else will be taking my place . They know not to fuck with Archie’s family which is filled with people that will do what they need to survive.

When the security guard opens the remaining door, the sun burns my eyes. I hold up a hand to block some brightness until my vision can adjust. Regardless of the irritation, freedom feels great.

“Don’t get into any more trouble or next time you may not make it out of here.”

I roll my eyes at the threat. The security here was shit. They didn’t know their dick from a gun. That’s why they aren’t allowed to have them. Idiots. Instead they have batons they use to beat the shit out of inmates with. They’re essentially worthless with too much power in their hands.

My shoulders slump a little, but I’m not surprised to find the street outside of the gate empty. No one to pick me up on release day yet again. I was hopeful with all the letters I sent Swayze that she would at least be here. I should’ve known that my hopes were wishful thinking when she never showed for the visitation. One time they called me to the front where the visitors were, causing my heart to pound at the chance of seeing her, only to be left waiting by myself at the table until a guard took me back to my cell, taunting me all the way. I’m not sure if she came and got cold feet when meeting me face to face, considering I shot her leg, or if it was a tactic from the guards to show me that I have no one. It was probably the latter since they did see that I was sending out letters and getting none back.

After miles of walking to the nearest bus station, I find the one that will take me home. Back to the place where my heart is missing its other half. I hope Swayze is okay, and I really hope she can forgive me.

Forgiveness is like a death row inmate's last meal. It relieves the guilt of your actions, however, it doesn’t rid your soul of your misdoings. It lingers like a disease eating away at your body. And I for one am a guilty man for many sins.