Page 69 of Redemption
Captain sent me out to patrol the roads an hour ago because I was driving him crazy at my desk. Now it’s almost ten o’clock, and my shift won’t be over for another eight hours.
The silence is too loud, so I flip on the radio. Two songs in, I’m flipping it back off because it’s not helping either.
With thirty minutes until my break, I whip my car around and drive to where I’ve always felt closest to my best friend.
The school is dark when I pull into the parking lot except for the street lamps in the parking lot. Driving around back, I pull into a spot that faces the football field and then shut the engine off.
It’s a full moon, and the stars are bright tonight, guiding a path for me toward the open field.
When I reach the fifty-yard line, I lie flat and stare at the sky.
“We have to talk, L.”
The crickets answer me.
“I never understood—I never got how you could be so lost when you had the world at your feet. But—”
I stop, scrubbing my hand over the scruff on my jaw. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to him—to tell him everything after all that’s happened—but shame burns deep. I was blind to so many things six years ago. I thought I was invincible, but Langston’s death taught me otherwise. I wasn’t above the tragedy that found me.
“Why didn’t you just listen to us, Langston? MJ and I tried so hard to save you. And in the process of saving you, we lost too—not just you—but ourselves. I loved her, you know. I loved her so much, but after your death, I knew I couldn’t keep her. Nothing would ever be the same between us. But now she’s back, and I don’t know what to do here.”
There have been so many times in the past six years when I wished that I could have one more conversation with him—one more chance to say goodbye—but none more so than now. MJ and I hid our relationship from him, claiming we would tell him when the time was right, but the time never came. There’s nothing I’ll regret more than not telling him how much I loved his sister. Sometimes, I wonder if it would have changed things if I had told him, but I know it probably wouldn’t have. Langston was too lost in his demons to see the world around him.
The world goes quiet as I whisper the secret I’ve held for six years. “I still love her, L. But she deserves a man who doesn’t haunt her with memories. And now this kid reminds me so much of you. And it’s like we are living these horrors all over again. If we fail this kid—well, I don’t even want to think about failing this kid.”
I don’t have much time left until I need to return to my cruiser, but an overwhelming weight keeps me here. Pieces of the turf poke into my skin, and I let that feeling ground me, keeping me here and not in the past.
“I’m sorry, Langston. I wish those words could bring you back, but I know they can’t. I just hope you can forgive me for what I’m about to do because I lost your sister once, and I don’t think I can live through losing her again.”
The wind picking up is my only answer, and I’d like to think that it’s Langston’s way of telling me that he approves—or maybe it’s my conscience looking for a way to assuage the guilt that never truly goes away.
With shaky hands, I push off the ground to sit on my knees, and then I try something I haven’t done in six years— “Hi, God. It’s me.”
The words get stuck in my throat, a feeling of inadequacy creeping up and squeezing my lungs. Tears sting my eyes, and I brush the back of my hand against them to keep them from falling, thankful that it’s just me out here.
Campbell said I need to let go of my control, but how am I supposed to do that when the moment I do, I have to face my demons?
So, instead of facing the disappointment of what I already know, I do what I do best—avoid it. Shoving off the ground, I walk away, unable to continue a prayer when I’m unworthy of speaking to God in the first place.
Chapter 22
Mallorie Jade
18 years old
Acollege campus smells different—feels different, too.
There’s a freedom here that I’ve been yearning for most of my life. It’s the freedom to be who I want to be without people hanging my family’s name over my head—no expectations or disappointments, just me.
I wonder if Langston has found that freedom here yet?
I hope so because if anyone deserves it, it’s him. He’s spent his whole life catering to the pressures of our parents, being the person they wanted him to be. I hope he’s found the person he wants to be now that he isn’t constantly in their shadow.
My phone dings, and a text from my mom appears, reminding me that as much as I’m craving the freedom this campus could give me, I don’t have it yet.
Mom:Your curfew at the hotel is ten o’clock. Your father and I trust you will be on your best behavior while you are there. Do not embarrass us—or Langston.
Mallorie Jade:Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll keep my status of family disappointment firmly contained to the county lines of Benton Falls.
