Repent (The Disciples 3) - Page 39

It’s amazing when you have one thing to focus on: how fast you can transform yourself.

I did manage to graduate while I was in here thanks to Mr. Richardson. He’s someone I will be forever grateful to. He came every Saturday to tutor me.

If I had gone to juvie, I would have been required to go to school, but I got charged as an adult and was sentenced to county. I assumed I was done with school that day.

Mr. Richardson decided that I was not. He showed up and I graduated early.

I toss a box of Marlboro Reds at Marco. It bounces off his chest.

“What the fuck, man? Little heads-up.” He looks at the box with a huge smile.

“Going away present,” I say, looking around at the small amount of stuff I’ll take with me in the morning. There’s not much: some letters from some club bunnies and a few from David.

None from her.

I wrote her in the beginning but stopped after I got nothing back. No letters, no visitation, nothing.

It’s like she never existed.

I went to jail for her. I let her fuck me over. I believed that she was mine.

I was wrong.

Fuck, I was wrong about so many things. I thought I had seen shit in the club. Try jail—there’s no way I can even explain it.

Eighteen months was my sentence. I’m getting out in fourteen on good behavior. I lie down on my shithole of a bed and relish in the thought that this is my last night in this cement box of hell. Crossing my hands behind my head, I let my mind wander to places better left zipped up.

This is what happens in jail. It changes you. Things that were important, such as luxuries, are a goddamn gift that I’ll never take for granted again.

I’ll also never come back. Once was enough. Closing my eyes, I wonder what it’s gonna be like out there.

Fourteen months is a long time to spend with the worst of the worst.

“Who’s picking you up, man?”

I open one eye and mumble, “Jason.”

“That one is badass,” he replies. “My uncle said he’s gonna be your Prez. You wait and see.”

“Nah, Jason doesn’t care about all that. Chuckie wants it. Jason’s too smart.”

“I heard everyone calls him Blade.” He nods at me like he’s got a big secret and lowers himself to do push-ups.

“Who said?”

“Everybody, man. Don’t you even know what’s going on in your own crew?”

“Club,” I grunt. Sitting up, I rub my hands up and down my face. I haven’t heard much lately. Axel’s been the one showing up with the money to bribe the guards, and the drugs always seem to be in the designated spot. So, no I haven’t heard dick about “Blade,” but I’m not telling Marco that.

“I’m tired,” I grumble, and he chuckles.

“Aww, Edge, I’m gonna miss you. You make sure when I come to you, you remember who saved your ass in here.” He laughs again as he continues his push-ups. “Literally.”

I look down at him and wonder if I ever will see him again. He’s in here for selling a huge amount of crack and cocaine. We both watched each other’s asses. Again, jail sucks. I’ve spilled more than my share of blood to keep myself from getting raped. It’s time to get the fuck out and never return.

If I learned one thing, it’s don’t ever get caught. Beautiful bourbon eyes, long brown hair, and red lips that smell like candy drift into my mind.

“You decide what you gonna do with your dad’s shit?” Marco jumps up and starts running in place.

Four months ago, he passed away. He put a bullet in his head. Didn’t matter—he was being eaten alive by cancer. It was the one unselfish thing he’s done for me my whole life. Surprisingly, the house was paid for and he left it and all his shit to me.

The house is a pit, but even a shithole goes for a lot of money in LA. I’ll get a realtor and sell it.

The one thing I might keep is his bike. Everything else, including his truck and car, need to go.

“Nah, I’ll figure it out as I go.”

“Well, at least you have somewhere to go when you get out.”

I almost laugh, but Marco doesn’t need to know that I’ll never stay there. Too many bad memories swirl their bad juju. I want nothing to do with it.

“I’ll probably stay with Jason and his mom.” Growing up, that’s where I stayed a lot anyway.

Without warning, the lights go to black. “Goddamn it,” Marco shouts, causing other inmates to tell him to shut up.

“Shut the fuck up, yourself!” He kicks our neighbors’ wall.

“I swear to God, lights are getting turned off earlier all the time.”

All I can do is grin. My eyes are already closed. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

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