Table of Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Yesenia Vargas
Letting Go
Yesenia Vargas
Copyright © 2016 by Yesenia Vargas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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For those going through tough times, for whatever reason. Hang in there.
Contents
Become a VIP Reader & Download Your Free Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Yesenia Vargas
Become a VIP Reader & Download Your Free Book
Before Ariana met Lucas, there was Carlos…
Read their story now.
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One
It feels weird to be wearing my own clothes again after six months in jail. I remember my life before, but it’s all a blur, like that life belongs to someone else.
Well, now it’s been given back to me.
Six months for simple battery, pled down from aggravated battery for beating up my ex-girlfriend’s younger brother.
I can’t believe I did that. All I know is I’m ready to start again. I want to start again and leave all of this behind me.
The guard gives me a nod and walks me towards the exit. I can’t even describe what I’m feeling right now. Excitement. Fear. Gratitude. It’s like a dream. Or a nightmare. I’m not sure what’s waiting out there for me.
Either way, it all starts again now.
I step out into the sunlight.
I look around at the mostly empty parking lot. There are a couple of police cars and maybe five other cars. But I don’t see my parents anywhere.
They know I’m being released today, so I’m not sure why they’re not here yet.
I thought they would be. After being locked up for six months. I take a moment to close my eyes and smell the air. I had been allowed outside along with everyone else to the rec yard, but it’s not the same.
Everywhere I went there were walls, even outside. And now the only walls are behind me.
I start walking, even though I don’t see my ride here yet. It’s not like I have a cell phone to make sure my dad’s coming. I’d let him know a few days ago I was getting out, but maybe he forgot.
I don’t have a watch either, but I know it has to be around nine in the morning. I was called right after breakfast for the release paperwork, and that didn’t take too long. I hear birds chirp in the trees above me, and I glance up. I hear a car pull up, and I immediately turn towards the sound.
There’s a pit in my stomach as I recognize my dad’s old ’99 Ford pickup. My parents came. I’m wondering why they didn’t come in my mom’s car. It’s almost brand new. No way she’d ride in dad’s car.
But as he gets closer, I see he’s alone. He pulls up until his car is parked in front of me. I step off the sidewalk, open the door, and get in. It feels so weird being this close to my dad again.
Not being behind a panel of glass.
I notice he’s in his mechanic’s uniform. He must have left his work at the shop to come pick me up.
I just nod. I can’t talk. I wouldn’t know what to say. He nods back, backs out, and we drive into town.
I stare at everything, also using this as an excuse to notice my dad. He looks older, not six months older but years older. Tired. The bags under his eyes have gotten bigger.
“Y mi ma?” I ask finally. He clears his throat but doesn’t look at me.
“No pudo venir,” is all he says. She couldn’t come? I’m really curious about that, but I don’t say anything else. I guess I’ll just see my mom later at home.
“Did you eat already?” he asks in Spanish. I shake my head even though I did have breakfast. Already, jail feels like a faraway place, not just literally. But like that was someone else. And I just have the memories.
Anyway, I want some real food. Not the stale, tasteless stuff I’ve been having the past several months that the government calls food. I shake my head, and he pulls into a Waffle House not far from his auto shop.
We used to come here pretty often when I was a kid. Sometimes with my older brother, Pedro, but mostly just us two. As I’d gotten older and stopped hanging out at the shop less and less, we hung out here less too.
We walk in and find a booth. One of the waitresses, a young blonde, greets us. I try to be polite and smile, but I can’t. I’m still getting used to all of this. Being around normal people again. Not inmates. Not guys, young and not so young, in jail for drugs, domestic violence, and a bunch of other stuff. Guys who had been in jail more than once. Guys who were serving sentences way longer than six months.
Guys who did things that made me watch my back.
I pick up the menu. I can’t think about that stuff anymore. I’m not in there anymore. I don’t belong in there anymore. They let me out, and I know I’m not going to go back there ever again.
It’s not worth it. Not everything I missed. My own high school graduation. I got my GED while I was inside, but it’s not the same as getting to walk across the stage to get your diploma. I didn’t do much else in there. Except think. Think of all the things I’d done that led to being in that cell. Things I won’t do again.
My dad drops me off at home.
And then leaves. He says he’ll be back later and gives me the house key. I g
uess he has a ton of work at the shop. I mean, it’s Tuesday. I can’t expect him to take the day off just because I just got released from jail. He’s never been the type to do that. He’s the type that focuses on work and comes home late no matter what.
I walk up the hill that’s our driveway and use the key to get in. This feels so surreal. The house is quiet, like it always has been. My older brother, Pedro, moved out several years ago, as soon as he could, really. He doesn’t like it here much either.
He lives in another state now. He moved there a while back with his girlfriend and kid. We hardly see him. I’m not surprised he doesn’t visit.
My mom’s car isn’t in the driveway, but I take a couple of cautious steps anyway in case she’s here. I never noticed the house’s distinct smell before. But it’s been a while since I’ve been here.
I walk into the kitchen. It’s empty. I walk to my room down the hall and open the door. My room looks exactly the same as when I last left. Bed unmade, clothes everywhere. Did I expect something different?
My phone is on my nightstand. I press the home button, but it’s dead. I find the charger and plug it in. I guess my parents left all my stuff alone.
I take a seat on the bed and look around. I try to think of the last time I was here. I was about to go to a party. I think I was changing when the doorbell rang, but I didn’t really pay attention to it. I was getting ready to leave. But then my mom was pushing my door open. I was pulling my shirt on and wondering what the heck she was doing in my room. She never went in my room.
“Why are the police here?” she asked in a loud, demanding whisper. “What did you do, Carlos?”
And a questioning look came on my face before I realized what this must be about.
“There’s a warrant for your arrest, Carlos,” she says. “They’re waiting for you. What are we supposed to tell everyone?”
She’s shorter than me, but she walks around like I’m still in her control. I ignore her and walk into the living room. Two cops are at the door. Two detectives. A man and a woman. I’m guessing that’s what they are because they don’t have on police uniforms. They flash me their badges and pull out some papers as they walk towards me.
I can’t believe this is happening. My life isn’t TV. This can’t be real.
“Carlos Herrera. You’re under arrest for aggravated battery. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…”
But I’m not listening anymore because they’re turning me around and putting me in handcuffs. I’m trying to understand what this guy just said. I look at my mom. There are no tears in her eyes. Just shock. Even for her. What are her friends gonna say when they find out her son’s been arrested? That’s what she’s thinking.
I don’t have time to think anything else because I’m being pulled away.
“Do you understand these rights as I’ve read them to you?” the woman detective asks.
“Yes,” I answer. I’m being pulled out the door.
“Call dad,” I call to my mom. It’s the last thing I say to her.
I look around now. At my hands. I start picking up clothes, putting them where they need to go.
Two
I’m doing laundry when my mom finally gets home an hour or so later.
She’s giggling on the phone with someone.
I walk out of the laundry room and into the kitchen. The two rooms are connected. She’s in there grabbing something from the medicine cabinet when she sees me walk in.
She says something quickly into the phone and hangs up. She closes the cabinet, her eyes on me.
“You’re home,” she says in Spanish, putting her purse on the counter.
“Dad picked me up,” I reply.
“I’m so glad you’re finally home from that horrible place.” She gives me a curt smile, grabs her purse, and heads to her bedroom.
I’ve never had a close relationship with my mom. It’s always been arguments or cold conversations with her. But I expected more than this after not seeing her for six months.
I guess I can’t be surprised, though. Not when she didn’t go see me once when I was gone.
I stay in my room the rest of the day. I only come out to grab the laundry from the dryer. I take it back to my room to fold. But it doesn’t take me long to finish cleaning my room. Or for me to be hungry again. But I don’t feel like going into the kitchen.
Instead, I lay on my bed and get on my phone. It takes forever to do a huge update, but I finally get on to Facebook and Snapchat and some other apps I used to get on all the time. I’m trying to see what people are up to, but I don’t remember my passwords, so it’s a hassle to get new ones.
By the time, I’m just logging in, I hear my dad come home. I hear him moving around in the kitchen for a few minutes. I don’t hear my mom, so I decide to go see him.
He has a couple of Burger King bags. My mouth waters at the sight of them. But I only see him pull out two meals and two drinks, so I stop short and sit on the couch. He probably brought those for him and mom.
It’s okay. He’s probably not used to having me back. I’ll just ask him about my car keys so I can go grab something myself.
I hear footsteps coming from the hallway, and my mom walks past me with her purse again. She’s dressed up, and instead of heading into the kitchen to eat, she’s out the front door.
“I’ll be back later,” is all she says.
I look at my dad. He doesn’t say anything. It’s like he didn’t even hear her.
He looks at me. “Come and eat.”
I get up and take a seat at the kitchen table. “Is mom not eating with us?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “She doesn’t eat here much anymore.”
I wonder if he eats fast food for dinner every night. My mom’s never been big in the kitchen, but she would cook dinner sometimes. Or my dad would. She’d be here. I get the feeling she doesn’t spend much time here anymore. I want to ask my dad what’s going on, but I decide to unwrap the burger he places in front of me instead. He gives me my fries and drink and sits down across from me. We eat in silence.
It’s only been six months, but it seems like a lot here has changed.
Over a year ago…
I never thought I’d find someone after Valerie. I only went to that party to do what I had been trying to do for the past several months.
Forget.
Forget Valerie. Forget what I did to her.
But sometimes things happen that are out of your control.
Meeting Ariana is one of them.
The first thing I notice is her smile. And how it reminds of Valerie’s smile. I can’t help it. She pulls me towards her with that smile, and I have to meet her. Talk to her.
Before I start questioning myself, I walk over and tap her on the shoulder. She turns around, and there’s surprise on her face. She’s a couple of inches shorter than me, so her eyes travel up until they meet mine.
I lean in so she can hear me over the pounding of the music.
“Hi. How about a dance or two with me?” I say with a smile.
I can see her staring at me, probably wondering who I am. She glances back at a guy dancing with her friend. I’ve seen her around, but I don’t remember her name. The guy looks at us and gives her a small nod.
“Is that your boyfriend?” I ask. Not that I’m sure I would care.
She shakes her head. “My little brother.”
I glance back at him. They look about the same age. And he’s taller than me. I turn back to her. I take her hand and lead her somewhere else. It’s too crowded over here.
We dance for a few minutes. She’s kind of awkward, but I like that about her. I can tell she’s nervous. She keeps looking down at her feet or around the room. Not just at me.
I can’t keep my eyes off of her.
I lean into her ear. “I’m Carlos, by the way.” I wait for her to finally tell me her name.
“Ariana.”
I say that in my head. Ariana.
&nb
sp; “You’re beautiful,” I say over the music, and I see her mouth fall open just a bit.
We keep dancing, and she finally relaxes into me. A slow song comes on, but we’re both sweating by then. She rests her head on my shoulder as we move together, slowly, to the beat of the music. My hands are on her hips.
I haven’t felt like this in a long time. I can’t remember the last time I held a girl like this, a girl that wasn’t Valerie. I need this. Maybe she can help me finally forget.
I don’t care what time it is, but she does.
“What time is it?” She glances around. I shrug.
“I have to go,” she says, and she nudges past some people and disappears. She’s probably gonna go look for her brother.
I find a seat and wait for her. But she never comes back. I check my phone. It’s past midnight.
I remember the way her skin felt against mine as I leaned in to talk to her. The feel of my hand in hers. And now she’s gone. The clock has struck midnight and she’s gone, and I have no idea who she is.
She’s my Cinderella.
I think about that. That would make me Prince Charming.
Which I’m not. I’m nowhere near that. I feel sick inside, realizing what I just did. I just met Ariana but already I know she’s too good for me. I need to understand that. I need to stay away from her. Even if I’m already falling for her.
Three
I jerk awake, not recognizing the room or furniture for a minute. Where am I? This isn’t my bunk. The small, hard bunk I’m used to. Then I realize I’m in my room. Not the cell I shared with my cellmate for six months. I’m actually home. It wasn’t a dream.
Letting Go (Changing Hearts Series Book 3) Page 1