Page 29 of Reckless Hearts
Chapter 16
Past
The yearI got out of prison was pretty fucking bleak. Not as bad as my time in prison, but not great, either.
While freedom living outside the walls of a jail cell was a thousand percent better, I was still remanded to live in a half-way house for a few months at the start of my parole. I had to show effort in establishing a job and contacts that weren’t known criminals.
That part wasn’t so hard, considering that before going to prison, I didn’t associate with criminals. Unless you counted the idiot thugs I smoked pot with back home in high school. But those guys were long gone, and no longer in my life.
And the only other two people that I could’ve been with were long gone, as well.
By then, Cam was married and in the Air Force overseas somewhere, doing pararescue missions to save lives. Heroic as ever.
And London. My angel had just recently graduated from NYU with a degree in social work and sociology. I knew this from her letters. She never stopped writing. And being the sap that I was, I could never keep myself from the torture of reading them.
The only bright spot in that year was my music teacher from prison, Drew. He and his wife, Candace, and their kids lived outside of Nashville, where they were both teachers – she an art teacher and he, of course, a music teacher.
Drew and Candace were my life-saving angels during that year. When I could’ve fallen down, they picked me up and showed me where I could use my talents.
“Hey, I want you to meet a guy I know. He’s a drummer and he was in my band class two years ago.”
Drew sits down at the coffee shop off of Maple Street where he asked to meet me. I had nothing else going on that day, and it was always good to hang with Drew. I’d share with him the music I’d written and sometimes we’d go down the street to a music shop and pump out some chords, playing around with the melody.
I lifted my gaze off the notebook that I’d been jotting down some lyrics in to meet his smiling eyes.
“Um, okay. Hello to you, too.”
Drew laughed jovially, a booming and boisterous sound. “Good morning, bro.”
He thumped me on the back in a quick bro-hug and looked down at the coffee sitting in his spot on the table.
“What’s this?” he pointed at the cup. “You didn’t have to buy me coffee.”
I rolled my eyes incredulously. “I’d buy you the whole damn place if I could. You know I can’t repay you enough for all you have done for me.”
He waved me off, removing the lid of the cup and emptying a packet of Stevia inside before replacing the lid and sipping it with unrestrained pleasure.
“Oh God, that tastes so good. I need this. I don’t think I’ve gotten two full hours of sleep this week.”
I snickered sarcastically. “I assume it’s not from hot, all-night sex.”
He scoffed. “Pfft. I wish. No, it’s the little screamer that was an outcome of all-night sex.”
Drew was referring to their newest baby, Dixie, who was their third child and apparently giving them the most trouble with her sleep habits. Or lack-there-of.
Drew scrubbed a hand down his scruffy, unshaved face, the dark-bluish circles underneath his eyes a telltale sign of his seriousness.
“Shit, she’s gonna be the death of us. Candi is ready to castrate me for knocking her up again with devil-baby.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Drew sipped his coffee and then plunked down a slip of paper in front of me.
“This guy’s name is Chris Deggart, but he goes by Deg. He’s looking for a band.”
I stared at the paper, the handwriting clean and precise, with the name and number of this guy. Cocking my head to the side, my eyes scrunched in curiosity.
“Uh, a band? What band are you referring to?” I whipped my head side-to-side, shrugging my shoulders. “I don’t see no band.”
Nearly knocking me off my seat, Drew punched me in the chest with a thick knuckle. “Your new band, man!”
