What If

  “This is bullshit.” Les shakes his head, leaning back in his chair like he’s a badass.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. You want to risk it?” I tip my head toward the guy they came in with. “Your buddy here is willing to cooperate. Isn’t that right, Ricky?”

  They both look at him, and he gives them a crooked half smile.

  “What the fuck?” Derek addresses him.

  “You two aren’t that good at this.” My informant smacks his lips against his teeth. “You should probably find a different line of work after you get out.”

  I’ve had my guy on them since the day of the arrest. I’m the enemy on the street, but I’m fair. I’ll cut a guy a break if I think it’s deserved, and I know how to use my position to get my job done. That doesn’t mean I also don’t know how to play the game. Earn respect and make sure I’m always owed a favor.

  “You ready to give your statement? Corroborate our evidence? Make sure everything I’ve said here today comes true?”

  He nods and grins, clearly loving the power he has over these two losers. And I can’t say I blame him. I reach for my phone and pause.

  “One call. I’ll have this place crawling with cops and a warrant for your house. A warrant for your girl’s arrest. Oh, and to top it off…” I look at Derek. “A warrant for your little brother who just so happens to be carrying right now. Where is he?”

  I look at my informant who smirks on his answer. “He’s with his baby mama and the kid at their house. One big happy family.”

  “My little brother doesn’t even know what’s going on,” Derek spits.

  “That’s not what I hear. I’ve got a few witnesses saying he’s selling out the back window of the house. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. He’s there. There’s product in the house and witnesses ready to give statements. All in all, I’ve got enough shit stirred up for you both that some of it will stick and it’s going to spray around and hit anyone and everyone you care about. On the other hand, you give your statements. You both clear Jessie. And I’ll help you make a deal with the D.A. Say you both cooperated. Otherwise, it’s war, my friends. Collateral damage to you and yours and I don’t give two shits.”

  Chapter 14

  Jessie

  As much as Mitchell tried to prepare me for today, everything that’s going on feels like electroshock therapy.

  From the moment we pulled away from Heather’s house, pins and needles prickled my skin, and I jump every time someone speaks.

  “Jessie.” Heather reaches over and puts her hand on top of mine on my knee. “I’m right here. I wish I could take it all away. But know, no matter what, Mitchell and I are here for you. Every step, we aren’t leaving until the very end.”

  I turn my palm upward and entwine my fingers with hers. I see Mitchell glance in the rearview mirror at us sitting in the back seat of his Mercedes, and he gives me a slight smile.

  The feeling of indifference and numbness that has helped me through the time since I left his office yesterday is gone.

  Replacing it are all the feelings I’ve pushed away. All the feelings I wish were locked in a truck at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.

  “Thanks.” I force a tight smile to Heather who looks so desperate.

  “Are you okay?” she asks and in between the three simple words I hear the real question.

  Am I going to lose it?

  Am I going to hurt myself?

  Is she going to be left with the guilt if I manage to do something that I can’t undo?

  “I’m good,” I reply Because saying “I’m fine” won’t work.

  You have to say something different. Everyone knows that “I’m fine” is bullshit.

  It’s code speak for “I’m about to come undone. Nothing is fine. Everything sucks, and we all know it, but there’s nothing we can do, so let’s just wrap up all the horror in a quick ‘I’m fine,’ so we can all go about our day thinking we’ve done our due diligence in asking if someone is okay.”

  “Have you heard from him today?” Heather asks with a nervous flicker in her eyes.

  “No. Not today. Mitchell asked for it all to be kept as quiet as possible. I’m fairly sure he doesn’t know. It’s for the best. I don’t need him showing up. I couldn’t bear it.”

  I haven’t received a text from Torin since last night. I still haven’t replied to any of his messages over the last two months, and it’s better for us both. I can’t have the weight of ruining his life on me. That would push me into the abyss and some holes there are no ladders tall enough to crawl out of.

  I know. I’ve been in them.

  Still, there is a part of me that wonders why he’s not messaged me.

  I know he’s connected, and even though Mitchell and the D.A. are fairly tight, and he asked for my deal and the details of it to be kept as quiet as possible, there’s this little girl inside me that has this dream of Torin riding in on a white horse and sweeping me away. Making this nightmare disappear and we wake up together right where we left off in the middle of a field of bliss.

  A bliss that, deep down, I guess I knew wouldn’t last.

  More than anything, I want to be sitting in his lap. The weight of his arms around me, his lips on my hair, his voice in my ear telling me he’s going to take care of me.

  That everything will be alright.

  And I’d believe him.

  When I met him, I knew.

  I knew he was the puzzle piece I’d been missing. I felt it from the moment I walked through the door of that shitty bar and thought he might be my blind date for that night.

  Number twenty-eight.

  What if he was? What if everything had been different?

  What if.

  What if.

  It all feels like a lifetime ago and yet like yesterday.

  “Jessie.” Heather squeezes my fingers, and I look up and realize I’m crying.

  “Yeah.” I look at her with the same forced smile, and she lets out a long breath, bringing her hand to my cheek and wiping away the streams of tears with her thumb.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish we could just keep driving. Go to Mexico or Canada or anywhere but here.”

  “Yeah, but we can’t. But it’s okay.” I reach up and put a hand on her cheek, nodding. “It’s really okay. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m not going to make this worse for everyone. I talked to Barbara this morning. I talked to her last night. I’m on solid footing. She’s going to come see me every week. I can take calls from her every other day. Mitchell set it up. The D.A. agreed. It’s part of my medical treatment. I’ve got my prescriptions. I’ll be okay.” I let my hand fall to the brown duffel bag on the seat next to me and give it a pat.

  I do my best to push confidence into my voice. It’s for me as well as for her. I turn my head to glance behind the car and see my mom and Walter following in his Cadillac. Helga, God love her, volunteered to ride with them.

  I know she did it for me. She’s the toughest woman I know, and she has no problem putting my mother and Walter in their place. It’s one of the joys I will take away from today. We all met at Heather’s, Helga was there before I arrived with Mom and Walter.

  As soon as we got inside the house, my mom started fidgeting, and Walter took a call on his phone. Mom was worried someone would see them at the prison; a patient, or a family member.

  Helga turned to her, deadpan and said, “Your daughter is going to prison today. Did you know that or are you here for some other reason? No one here gives a shit about anything else. If you do, maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

  Walter looked up, then turned away to step outside and finish his call. My mom looked at everyone, one at a time, thinking one of us would come to her rescue with Helga.

  After a few long uncomfortable moments of silence, Helga finished, “Well then. Seems we have all that straightened out.” She ran her hands over her tight braided bun and set her jaw, staring at my mother with narrow eyes and a nod, setting the final nail in that conversation.


  The sedan slows and turns into the long drive of the facility. My stomach flips, and I pray for the numbness to return.

  Heather holds my hand the entire way inside. Mitchell leads the way. Helga walks on my other side with Mom and Walter trailing behind.

  “Don’t worry about them.” Helga flips her head behind me. “They love you. Just maybe no one loved them enough to teach them how you show it. Hurt people hurt other people. Today you be selfish. As selfish as you’ve ever been. That is what you need today. Everything else is shit.” She shakes her head as Mitchell opens the door for us and we step into the stale scented room with orange vinyl chairs and bulletproof glass shielding a small room with uniformed guards and intake personnel busy at their desks and one manning a high counter just behind the plexiglass.

  It feels like there is a hand around my throat, keeping any air from moving in and out. My feet move forward without thought, and Mitchell turns to face me.

  “No rush.” He looks over his shoulder as the person at the counter eyes us. “You take as much time as you need. You remember everything I told you? Everything that’s going to happen?”

  I nod, unable to form words. Mitchell laid out every step of the process for me yesterday when he called to tell me the D.A. accepted the deal. I’m sentenced to no less than thirty-six months in the Dayton County Women’s Correctional Facility.

  All the episodes of Orange is the New Black poured through my mind, and there’s no way I’m prepared for this, as much as I try to do the stiff upper lip act.

  I decide to take on Mom and Walter first. I spin on my heel, and Heather steps away.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” I start, and Walter puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Not where we’d like to be.” He tightens his eyebrows but softens with a smile. “We will make sure you have money in your account here, so you have what you need.”

  “Oh, Jessie.” My mother places her freshly manicured fingers over her red lips. “This is not what should be happening. This is not how I raised you. I did my best, I did what I could. I will take care of your apartment. I will make sure all the loose ends are taken care of. I will make sure everything is paid while you’re gone. I will try to keep it all as quiet as I can.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘I’s’, Mom.” Is all I can manage as Walter puts his arm around her.

  “Jessie.” He looks down at me. “This is hard on everyone, you know. Your actions have ripples that extend to us all.”

  “So, then.” Helga steps in. “You say goodbye, and I’ll get a ride back with them.” She nods her head toward Heather and Mitchell. “You go, this is too much for you, then you go.” Her stern voice whips around us, and my mother’s tears subside.

  “Give me a hug.” My mom steps forward, and I let her arms move around my back, and I return the quick gesture without emotion.

  The numbness is creeping back in, and I’m thankful for the way everything feels like it is happening in a movie now. Like I’m watching it instead of living it.

  Walter does the same, and in the next minute, they retreat out the door, my stepfather already on his phone as they make their way back down the sidewalk to the parking lot.

  Helga and I turn and step back toward Heather and Mitchell.

  “I looked for a card that would cover just such an occasion.” I shrug. “But Hallmark didn’t have anything in the, ‘See you in a few years, I’m going to prison,’ section. All sold out.”

  “I love you.” Heather’s arms wrap around me and pull me tight. “I’m coming every week. I’m calling every other day.”

  One of the things Mitchell covered with me were the practicalities of visiting: phone calls, packages, mail, the commissary…it’s like a very unpleasant summer camp.

  “You don’t worry about your job. You’ll have a job whenever you come back.” Helga’s voice intermingles with Heather’s struggle to keep her breathing steady. I feel her body jerk and know she’s crying.

  I twist my head and look at Helga. “Thanks.”

  I see Helga’s chin quiver, and I lose it.

  My knees give. Sobs tear from my body and Mitchell comes over to encircle both Heather and me, keeping us upright.

  I don’t know how long that goes on. It feels like forever and a blink of an eye.

  I hear a phone ringing, and Mitchell lets us go. Helga comes around as I step back from Heather and takes my chin in her sturdy hand.

  “You will be okay. You will do this, then you will be done. Then life will go on. I know.”

  I nod. This woman spent eight years in a Russian prison, which by comparison this is a spa retreat in the Maldives.

  “Good. Now, I’m going. I will be here too. I will come. Be strong. You strong girl.” She turns on her black heel and marches out the door, her hands both coming up to her face as she goes.

  Mitchell steps into the corner, and I hear my text alert go off.

  It’s Torin. It’s his sound, and my heart is in my throat. I know he won’t expect a reply. I wouldn’t know what to say.

  Heather gives me a smile as I reach to my back pocket and pull out my phone.

  Torin: Every day, every minute, every second is still filled with you. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. When you’re ready. When it’s right. I’m never giving up on us.

  I swallow back the new sobs, knowing the reality is that in thirty-six months, neither of us will be the same people. Sometimes the people that come into our lives and burn the brightest are not the ones meant to stick around.

  In a way, I guess I like this way better. Snuffing out what was burning bright versus watching the fire die and the embers smolder, knowing there is no way to bring back what once was. That’s what usually happens from what I’ve seen, and I couldn’t bear the days, months and years of slow pain watching us die like that.

  Wondering what he was doing, if he’d found someone else, while I sat here counting the days.

  Still, I stare down at my phone hoping for more.

  I need more.

  I need to be fed by him now. In this moment.

  I need him.

  “Jessie.” Heather’s voice cuts through the buzzing in my head. “You okay?”

  I shake my head. There is no more “I’m fine,” left in me.

  “No.” I choke out sobs once again, shaking my body, and my hand comes up to cover the ugly cry that now feels like it will be my constant companion. “I’m not. I’m not okay. I’m not.” Every word comes out between a gasp for air that isn’t there.

  Heather’s arms come around me and guides me to sit as my knees give out. I lower my face down to the tops of my legs, clutching the phone like it’s a life preserver in a hurricane.

  Through my crying, Torin’s text tone hits me again, this time like a knife in my heart. I don’t want to look. I don’t want to read more of the beautiful words from the beautiful man that made me believe for a brief and shining moment that fairy tales could come true.

  But not for me.

  I lift my head, swipe at the snot on my upper lip and try to quell the convulsive shaking of my shoulders. I hope like hell this little show of weakness won’t somehow be transmitted to my new comrades here. I can’t imagine that would increase my street cred.

  God, did I just say, ‘street cred’?

  “Are you going to see what he said?” Heather asks, sitting next to me, a reassuring hand resting between my shoulder blades.

  I nod, pushing up, resting my forearms on my knees and turning the phone over to look at the screen.

  Torin: You need to know one thing…

  I wait for what is coming next.

  For the one thing...

  And wait.

  Funny how a few seconds can be filled with enough time to fill weeks. Months.

  When the next text finally comes, my lungs are burning from the breath I’ve been holding.

  Torin: I will never, ever do anything to make you cry like you are right now and if anyone else does, I’ll mak
e sure they never do it again. Baby, stop crying. It’s time to come home.

  I read the words, and the buzzing in my head turns to a spinning. Confusion swirls around me as I read and re-read the text.

  I see Mitchell’s shoes come into my line of vision as I look down at the floor. I adjust my focus upward up to see him smiling. I glance at Heather, who is looking at Mitchell, then saying something, her eyes widen as she turns to stare at the door.

  I re-read the text feeling Heather’s hand on my back turn to a series of soft pats.

  “Jessie.” She taps me again, her eyes on the entryway. “Look.”

  The whole world turns black, all time and space have no meaning as my limbs work on their own and voices and sounds all merge into a deafening hum. Something is happening to me, something I can’t grasp, and my mind just shuts down.

  And the next thing I know, the air smells so fresh. The sky is so blue.

  “What just happened?” I gasp as I watch Heather and Mitchell head down the sidewalk toward their car, holding hands. There seems to have been a gap in time, and I’m trying desperately to play catch up.

  Torin has me off my feet, spinning me around, his lips then his teeth on the curve of my neck. His arms are locked around me so tight it’s a struggle to take in any air.

  His voice is in my ear, “What should have happened, that’s what happened.”

  Then, I remember looking up and seeing Torin standing in the doorway, everything gets fuzzy.

  There was Mitchell, shaking Torin’s hand. Heather was crying and laughing.

  Next thing I know, Torin lifts me out of the chair, pulling my body up against his and his lips are on my mouth.

  Mitchell’s voice was there, in bursts I heard him saying all the charges were dropped. New witnesses came forward, and I was exonerated—not only of the current charges but of the charges from when I was eighteen.