Lifers (44 page)

I bit back the remark that was on the tip of my tongue to spit at her. She said she’d come to apologize. I knew I should let her do it.

Jordan simply stared at her, his face slipping into that cold, unreadable mask.

Mom sat in the wooden chair next to the bed.

“I owe you an apology, Jordan. As my daughter has so rightly pointed out on several occasions, I have been guilty of double standards. I preached tolerance and forgiveness but didn’t practice it. For that, I’m sorry. What’s happened to you, and I don’t just mean this,” she waved toward his damaged body, “life has been very harsh. I hope you can forgive me for adding to your burden.”

Jordan looked uncomfortable and glanced at me. I shrugged. Forgiving her was his decision. I already had. Sort of.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, at last.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly. “Would you mind if I prayed for you? For both of you?” She glanced at me and smiled. “I’ll make it a short one.”

“Go for it, Mom.”

She took Jordan’s hand in hers, and he threw me a panicked look. I shook my head slightly, smiling at his expression.

“Lord, you are loving and kind and merciful. Create in us today new, clean hearts that can forgive those who have transgressed against us and against you. Restore us all to the joy of your salvation, this day and evermore. Amen.”

She looked up. “Short, sweet, says it all, don’t you think?”

“Um, yeah?” Jordan agreed, tentatively.

I gave her a small smile. “Nice one, Rev.”

She stayed a few more minutes, asking about our plans for the future. She looked sad when I said we’d be heading out as soon as Jordan’s parole had finished and he was cleared to travel.

“Will you stay in touch, Torrey?” she asked, her expression resigned.

“Sure, Mom,” I answered, quickly.

She nodded but didn’t push it any further.

After she left, I headed back up to see Jordan.

“Not so bad, huh?” he smiled at me. “I’m glad you and your momma are speakin’ again. It didn’t set right with me that you were fightin’.”

I chewed my lip for a while but nodded.

“Yeah, life’s too short to stay angry at people, isn’t it?”

We sat in silence, each lost in our separate thoughts.

The next day Officer Carson came to visit.

Jordan had only just woken up, so I made her wait in the family room while I helped him get dressed. It was too painful for him to try and get a t-shirt over his head, so he was wearing one of Mikey’s old button down shirts. Gloria hadn’t objected when I’d raided the closet in Mikey’s room; she’d even helped me to wash the clothes I’d taken so they were freshened up after eight years of collecting dust.

I left Jordan to zip up his own pants, despite his insistence that me helping with that was the best part of getting dressed.

I headed back down to have a little heart-to-heart with Officer Carson.

“I hope you’re not going to make him take a test for drugs,” I said, quickly, “because half the time he’s high as a freakin’ kite on all the pain meds, and I’ve been using alcohol wipes around his eye, so he’ll fail the EtG test, too.”

“No, that’s fine,” she smiled. “Don’t worry, Torrey. In fact, we won’t worry about that anymore at all.”

I didn’t know what she meant, but let it go when she looked up as Jordan walked slowly into the room, holding his ribs.

“Hello, Jordan,” she said, standing up to shake his hand. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he said, automatically.

We both stared at him, taking in the multicolored bruises, the eye patch, his painful stance, then at the same time we both burst out laughing, Jordan joining in reluctantly.

“Oh, crap!” he gasped, his laughter ending abruptly. “That hurt!”

“Of course, you idiot!” I chuckled. “Sit down before you fall down and I have to scrape you up off the carpet.”

“Well,” said Officer Carson when we were all seated. “I have good news. I came to tell you, Jordan, that you’ve been exempted from further drug and alcohol tests. It seemed appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“That’s great!” I said, brightly. “Thanks! We didn’t want to have to traipse into town.”

Jordan was silent, so I elbowed him in the ribs. He yelped and threw me a wounded look.

“Oops, sorry! That was harder than I meant, but you’re supposed to thank Sandy!”

Officer Carson smiled. “Don’t worry, Torrey, that’s fine. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in. But I do have a couple more pieces of good news: firstly, you don’t have to write your report this month, Jordan, and…” she paused for effect, “your parole officially finishes at midnight tonight. I pulled some strings.”

We were both silent.

“So that’s it,” she said kindly, correctly interpreting our silence as astonished shock. “You’re a free man, Jordan. Society believes you have paid your debt in full. It’s up to you now.”

“Oh my God!” I said, flinging my arms around Sandy’s neck as tears pricked my eyes. “Thank you so, so much!”

Jordan looked stunned.

“That’s it? I’m … I’m free?”

Officer Carson smiled and coughed a little, sounding choked up. I swear she was wiping a tear from her eye, too.

“Yes, Jordan. You’re a free man. Congratulations.”

She stood up and offered him her hand.

My heart cried out as he stood on trembling legs. Then they shook hands briefly.

“My job here is done,” she said, softly. “Good luck to both of you.”

She smiled again, then I showed her to the door and waved as she drove away.

Jordan was seated on the couch when I walked back in, his expression still stunned.

“Wow!” I said.

He seemed frozen to the spot.

“Jordan, this is immense! You’re free!”

I sat down next to him and wrapped my arms carefully around his neck, gently folding myself around his trembling body.

He buried his face into my hair as sobs shook his body.

“Free!” he said.

Jordan 

It was impossible to take in.

I knew I should feel like celebrating, but I just felt empty. For so long I’d been identified as someone outside of society: first as a convict, then as a parolee. But now…

“It’s okay,” said Torrey reassuringly, later that afternoon.

We were lying on the sofa together, Torrey curled up carefully next to me. Normally when we were like this, she’d be lying all over me. I missed having her head on my chest, and that soft, soft hair falling across my body. But it was too fucking painful to take her weight on me. Not only that, but just breathing hurt, I had a king-size headache, and my left eye was throbbing like a bastard. I was trying to ignore it all and concentrate on the TV. Torrey loved sci-fi programs and we were currently watching reruns of
Star Trek: Next Generation
. Well, she was. My mind was a million miles away. Yeah, ironic much.

She looked across at me. “I can only imagine how surreal this is for you.”

I nodded but didn’t answer. Honestly, I wouldn’t have known what to say.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, again. “As soon as you’re well, we can do anything we like, go anywhere we want.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I didn’t.

“Don’t worry, we’ll work it out.” She hesitated. “When are you going to tell your folks?”

Dad had been out at work and Momma had been—who knows where she’d been. She stayed out of our way.

Officer Carson had left three hours ago. I could have called Dad at his office but I’d held off.

“I’m not sure I’m gonna tell them yet,” I said, at last.

Torrey was puzzled. “Why wouldn’t you?”

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a piece of couch that didn’t hurt like a bitch.

“I just don’t want to feel … I don’t know. It’s like they’ll be expectin’ somethin’ else from me. I don’t want the pressure right now. Can we just leave it for a while?”

She held up her hands. “Hey, it’s totally your call! I’m just happy and proud of you. I want to shout it out so everyone knows. But if you’re not ready for that, it’s fine by me. But, um, I did send a text to Bev.”

“Yeah? What did she say?”

Torrey laughed. “Well, her first text was just one word, at least I think it was a word. The message said ‘amazeballs!’”

“Um, okay?”

“And her second message said she wanted to come over with a bottle of champagne. Don’t worry. I told her no. Or rather, I told her not yet.”

“I’ve never had champagne.”

She stared at me.

“Just beer and, um, vodka, some whiskey. Ryan had … there was red wine at his party. I remember that. But I don’t think I had any. So nope, no champagne.”

“We totally have to put that right!” Torrey laughed. “You’ll love it. And it goes really well with sex. I think it’s the bubbles.”

I started to laugh then my ribs reminded me that wasn’t a great idea.

“Sorry, hon,” she giggled. “Oh, by the way. I talked to Hulk. He’d already heard, of course. He says the job’s there when you want it and that I should kick your ass some. Not sure why he said that but I think it was a term of affection.”

I grunted, not wanting to think about Hulk and ‘affection’ in the same sentence. It was just too strange.

“What about your work, sweetheart?” I asked, dreading the answer. “You cain’t stay at home playin’ nurse with me forever.”

She sighed. “No, that’s true. But Gus gave me the rest of the week off.”

“That sure was generous of him.”

“Yeah, well it might have something to do with the fact that he’s shit scared of my boyfriend!”

I grimaced. “I wouldn’t have thought he’d be afraid of someone who don’t fight back.”

My tone was bitter, and Torrey threw me a look that showed she was still kind of mad at me.

“Yes, but those days are over, aren’t they?”

I guess they were.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding slowly. “No free passes for anyone. Next time, I’m comin’ out swingin’.”

Torrey smiled, satisfied with my answer.

And I wasn’t lying to her. I wasn’t a parolee anymore: I had the same rights as anyone else. Well, almost. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that if I got into something my record wouldn’t be held against me, but it wouldn’t automatically mean going back to prison either. And as for Ryan and anyone else who wanted a piece of me, next time
they
would be the ones paying. I finally believed what Torrey had been telling me—my debts were paid. There was just one outstanding, and that was a debt to Mikey—the one where I’d promised him to live my life the best way I could. It would take a lifetime to pay, but I was good with that thought.

The next day, we were visited by the detective from the hospital. Torrey said it was the same guy, Detective Lopez, but I didn’t remember. I was probably out of it at the time.

Torrey offered him coffee. She was being thoughtful, but the idea of acting like I was fucking socializing with a police officer had me twitching and just about ready to leap out of my skin. I probably would have, if breathing didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Hello, Mr. Kane. My name is Detective Lopez. I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your fiancée.”

I had trouble replying anything sensible. A police detective was calling me
mister
, that was just plain freaky. Plus, Torrey and me hadn’t exactly discussed the whole ‘fiancée’ thing. Truthfully, I was kind of hurt that she’d just used it to get information at the hospital. Maybe it didn’t mean that much to her, bearing in mind her views on marriage. Hearing the word should have made me happy, but instead I just felt a jolt of pain.