Page 2 of Parrish

“I thought he said it was solid?” Reina whispers.

Squeezing her hand, I don’t respond. Instead, I clench my jaw and wait for someone to tell us what’s going on. The room goes silent as my lawyer continues to flip through the pages and then it happens…

The voice of my maker calls in the distance.

You’re fucked Parrish.

“Fifteen years?” Reina shrieks, releasing my hand. Her outburst drags me away from my mind and the two words that we weren’t expecting to hear. “No one said anything about fifteen years,” she cries, turning her attention to me.

Not willing to see the heartache reflected in her eyes, I cowardly keep my attention focused on my attorney, hoping he pulls a rabbit out of his hat or creates a miracle of some kind. Jeffrey Holden has gotten rich over the last two decades, but he’s also kept my ass out of prison.

Every dog has its day, Bulldog.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I struggle to fight the voice inside my head. That vile bitch who loves to drag me down to hell any chance she gets.

“Jack,” Reina croaks next to me, demanding answers. Blinking, I slice my eyes back to hers, watching as she angrily wipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. I know the thoughts running through her head because they’re exactly the same as mine.

Like me, she’s calculating the age our son will be when I’m released and already mourning the years I’ll miss of his life. My chest starts to ache as I picture the boy I’m leaving behind and the grown man he’ll be in fifteen years. I’m losing out on all the moments I never got to share with his brother who was taken from the world too soon.

Then, there’s also the promise to teach him all the things in life a boy needs to learn in order to become a man that going away will force me to break.

Reina’s also thinking about my daughter Lacey, wondering if her mind will withstand this latest blow to our family and acknowledging the fact that the baby she’s carrying won’t know it’s grandpa. Again, I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to recall walking my daughter down the aisle, kissing her cheek and giving her hand to the man I trusted most in the world. My throat constricts with emotion just as it did on her wedding day and one cherished memory bleeds into another, taking me back to yesterday when she shared her sonogram photo with me.

I finally let myself look at Reina—really look at her. I memorize her features and pray to whatever god listening that while I’m alone, rotting in a cell, he grants me the ability to remember all the many expressions her beautiful face has gifted me over the years. May I always recall the sound of her laugh and the sweet fucking sounds she makes when she comes undone.

You’re going to lose her, Parrish.

She’ll never wait.

“Ten years,” my lawyer bargains. “Or we go to trial and leave it up to a jury to decide.”

“That’s fine with me,” t Ritzer fires back. “We take it to court and your client can wind up doing anywhere between fifteen to life.”

“Jack,” Reina whispers, reaching for my face. “Are you with me?” she questions, searching my eyes for a sign that I haven’t drifted over to the darkness.

“I’m with you,” I rasp, wrapping my hands around her wrists.

“Your client is being charged with murder in the first degree. Now, we’re being generous here. The deal is fifteen years and full immunity for the club.”

Prying Reina’s hands off me, I glare at the suits sitting across from me.

“Do I need to remind you of my client’s medical condition?”

When in doubt, pull the crazy card.

“Twelve years, full immunity for the club and his private doctors are allowed to treat him inside,” Holden continues.

Mulling it over, Ritzer leans back in his chair, and quietly confers with the two assholes sitting on either side of him. Knowing these men hold my fate in their hands is enough to get my blood boiling and the wheels turning inside my deranged head. I envision inflicting pain on them and tearing their world apart. I want their wives to cry at night and their kids to wonder when and if they’ll ever see their fathers again.

Once a fucking sinner, always a sinner.

“Thirteen years and full immunity for the club. As far as his medical treatment goes that will be up to the warden to decide. However, I assure you, Mr. Parrish will be treated for his condition.”

Thirteen years is better than fifteen and I turn my gaze toward my lawyer, waiting for him to agree or disagree. He looks at me then Reina and back to me, giving me a slight nod.

“Take the deal,” he says.

Thirteen fucking years.

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