Ten (My Brothers Best Friend) (14 page)

All prison gangs were separated first and foremost by the races they are typically associated with. Miles, the guy I met, was with the Crips. He was asked to do something he wasn’t capable of, and he was killed in a retaliation attack. It felt close, his death. It’s not like on the outside when you hear things on the news about shit happening in another state. This is in your space. People came and went, and not always through the front gates. It was hard, and made me even more cautious about not letting myself bond with people. All accept Six.

Six didn’t have a clique or crew he hung with, yet he appeared to be respected by them all. Everyone had a chin lift for him when he passed, and some guys even brought stuff to his cell for him. Toothpaste and extra toilet tissue.

In the five years he’d been in there, he must have made a place for himself. Maybe I could do the same.

The most valuable lesson Six taught me was that the normal rules of the outside world simply didn’t apply any longer. Prison was a completely different universe. All that mattered was enduring the experience, and surviving until the end with as little damage as possible. And because of him, I did. No one, especially not my uncle who couldn’t give two fucks about me, was going to tell me I couldn’t trust him.

I didn’t have to say anything. Keith knew he lost me to my thoughts so he got up and left.

I’
m so full from dinner. I wish I’d kept one of the beds so I wasn’t sitting on a blow up bed that feels freezing beneath me. I dial Leon on Skype, and beam when my baby’s face appears on the monitor. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, baby.”

“Leon is in the shower. He wants to talk to you though.”

“I will, baby. First tell me about your day.”

“I got an A in my Math homework and I signed up for the talent show like you wanted.”

“Really? I’m so proud of you.”

His cheeks flush with embarrassment and he turns to look at something behind him. “Leon’s here now, Mom, so I’m going to take my turn in the shower. Love you.”

“Love you too!” I shout to his retreating back.

Leon’s face replaces DJ’s. “Hello, beautiful. How are things going? We miss you here.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I think I was being ambitious trying to sort everything myself.”

“You want us to come join you to help out?”

“No,” I quickly say. I don’t want DJ meeting this version of his father. “I don’t want him missing school. That’s the whole point of me leaving him with you.”

“Okay. I just hate thinking of you going through this on your own.”

“I had dinner with my Dad’s old friend tonight. He’s arranged a service for my Dad, so that’s something.” I smile, feeling exhausted.

“Alex, do you want to talk about what happened between us?”

Oh God. I’d dreaded him bringing that up. It was a mistake. I love Leon but not in the way he deserves.

“I can see by your face that you don’t.” He doesn’t sound angry. Disappointed, if anything.

“I was wrong for letting that happen.” I frown. “I…”

“Don’t.” He stops me. “Don’t say anything else. I want you to think about how good things could be for us if you just gave me a chance to be more than your friend. I love you and DJ, and I think you know that.”

“I do. I do, and that’s why I trust you with him. I couldn’t and wouldn’t have asked anyone else to watch him for me. And I love you too, just not in the way you want me to.”

“That could change. Just don’t say no to the possibility of us.”

“Okay,” I murmur, feeling defeated.

A knock on the front door startles me.

“I have to go. Kiss my baby for me.”

I end the call and slowly approach the front door. Who the hell could that be?

I detach the latch and open the door an inch, not seeing anyone. A breeze carries a strong smell of paint in with it, puzzling me. I close the door to unlatch it and re-open it wide, stepping outside. I can’t see anyone, but the smell is stronger. Looking back at the house I pause and my chest begins to pound.

Is painted in red across the front door. What the hell? I spin around, running down the garden, searching for the culprit, angry and hurt someone would do this. It had to be a child, or it could be that freaking Lisa; she’s like a child. It would take me forever to wash that off. The cold night air bites at my bare arms and a shiver races through my body. I’m about to turn around and go back inside but I stumble when I see a dark shadow at the side of the house. The person was behind me this whole time and could have gone inside and waited for me because I was stupid enough to leave the door open. He steps into the light of the porch sensor and I recognize him vaguely. Joseph Moore, a second cousin or something along those lines, to Dalton. Did Dalton put him up to this?

“I’m going to call the police!” I shout, hoping he’ll be scared and run away, but he just laughs at me, which chills me, further. I take a step forward and he mimics my action. “You better get the hell out of here!” I shout again.

“Make me.”

My hands begin to shake and I have to swallow the lump making its way up my throat.

“You okay over there?” I hear from behind me, and I sigh in relief. I turn to see Six crossing the street. When I turn back the little punk is gone.

“There was someone by my house,” I say, and grab Six’s arm for support. He looks around at the darkness and then puts an arm around my waist, guiding me inside. “Lock the door. I’m going to check around the house.”

I do as he asks, quickly locking the door and checking all the windows are closed.

A knuckle tapping on the door and Six’s voice penetrating the wood has me opening the front door for him.

“There’s no one there, but I can stay for a while if you want?”

Shaking my head, I thank him for checking for me and assure him I’ll be fine and that I’m going to go to sleep and report it in the morning. I can tell by the lines marring his forehead he’s not happy, but I just need to sleep these days away until I’m finished here and I can leave this town.

I wake up cold, with an aching back. I feel old for the first time in my life; that stupid mattress offers no support.

A scraping sound coming from outside makes me jump up to open the front door. Six’s huge frame blocks the entire entryway. His arms are all sudded up with soap and he’s holding a bristle brush. I almost burst into tears at his kindness. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

“I get up early.” He shrugged.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I don’t like it. It’s weak.”

I raise a brow, wanting him to elaborate, but he drops the brush in the bucket and walks away. He’s right though; this intimidation crap is weak and I’m sick of it. I throw on some clean clothes and grab my car keys.