Behind the Bars

by Brittainy Cherry

  “She loved fried salami sandwiches. She sucked at cooking them, though, so they were really burnt salami sandwiches, but I swear she’d slather them with mayo and eat them all the time. There was a time she ate them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three weeks straight.” He laughed heartily.

  I smiled. “That’s actually pretty disgusting.”

  “Yeah. Our house would smell like burnt salami for days. Mom would come home from work and holler, ‘Katlyn Rae Adams, if you ever get married, please never cook for your husband. You’d be the death of him.’”

  “It must run in your family—TJ tried to get me to eat peanut butter and roast beef once.” I groaned. “Disgusting.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. Same with the ham and jelly sandwiches.”

  “Oh my gosh.” I shook my head back and forth. “You hang out with him way too much.”

  “My mom hated his sandwiches but would still eat them all the time because it made TJ smile.”

  “Your mom is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”

  “She’s too good for this world,” he told me. “She’s a saint.”

  “Does she date?” I wondered.

  “Nah. She has a hard time getting close to people after my dad. He really did a number on her. I think she gets lonely, though. I asked her about it once and she told me she’d rather be alone and lonely sometimes than in the wrong relationship and sad. She was convinced that being in a bad relationship was ten times lonelier than actually being alone.”

  “Any person would be lucky to have her.”

  “I agree. If it happens someday, he better love her like it’s his last breath—or else I’ll kill him.”

  I smiled at how much he loved his mother. She loved him the same exact way. They were lucky to have one another.

  “I’ve been a shitty son,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “My mom would give up her world for me, and I spent the last six years trying to stay away for selfish reasons because I wasn’t strong enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She looks just like her,” he explained quietly. “Every time I see my mother, I see my sister too, from her curly dark hair to her smile…from her small figure to the way she laughs, the way she cries. So, I’ve avoided her.”

  “But that sounds like such a blessing,” I told him, moving in closer. “Being able to see your sister in your mother’s smile. It’s almost as if she cheated death somehow. It’s almost as if a part of her spirit lives on in such a beautiful way.”

  “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to see things in a different light when you’ve become so accustomed to the dark.”

  He pressed his lips against my forehead. “Jasmine?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you. More than words can say, I l-love you.”

  The way he stuttered over the word love matched the skipping of my heartbeats.

  “I love you too, Eli.” I’d always had. I’d loved him when I was sixteen, and even though time passed, I had never let that love go.

  That was what the key around my neck stood for to me.

  The key was Elliott, and for all those years, he stayed right beside my heart.

  He was home to me.

  We didn’t sleep together again that morning, but I felt his soul against mine. My favorite thing about Elliott was how he could make love to me with only his stare.

  I loved how he loved me so quietly as our eyes drifted closed, giving way to sleep, and I loved how I knew he’d love me the same when we awoke.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Elliott

  She woke up before me. When I stirred in bed, I glanced up to see her standing near the windowsill wearing one of my oversized T-shirts. The light from the sun spilled in, and I couldn’t fully grasp what had happened.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so happy.

  She was really there. She’d come back to me.

  She didn’t have a clue what she’d done for me. I’d spent six years locked in a cage, and she was the key to my freedom.

  “Good morning,” I called, startling her, and she turned around to face me. In her hands was a notebook, one of the many that sat inside of my dresser. “What are you doing?”

  Her eyes filled with worry, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I went into your dresser for a T-shirt, and I found this. It was open on top of everything, and I saw my name and—”

  “It’s okay,” I told her, patting the spot beside me on the bed.

  She joined me and sat up straight. “What are these, Eli?”

  “Letters I wrote to you,” I told her. “I, um…TJ used to have me write down my hopes and fears in notebooks, to help with my music. After what happened, I gave up pretty much everything. Everything that meant anything good to me, but I couldn’t stop writing to you, even if you never read them. I think that’s why it worked for me. I knew you wouldn’t see them and try to make me feel better. I just bled onto the paper each night, writing down everything in my heart, everything I felt. Writing to you m-made me feel less alone, I guess. I was hard on myself, but at least in some shape or form I wasn’t alone. You were always there with me. You were always around.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks, and I wiped them away. “Don’t cry. I never want to make you cry.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just…” She sighed. “These entries…your pain… I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

  “Hey,” I said, shaking my head. “I can breathe now. I can breathe.”

  My lips grazed over hers, and she nodded. “You wrote these letters, and I wore your key. This is us…this has always been us.”

  “This will always be us.”

  “My favorite part was how you ended each letter, your P.S.”

  I gently kissed her forehead, and we lay back down. I pulled her closer to me. “Also, I still love you,” I whispered, repeating the words I’d written so many times.

  “Also, I still love you,” she echoed softly. “Can we just stay here? Can we ignore the world for a while?”

  I smirked. “I wish, but I gotta get to TJ’. We have a music lesson, and he’ll kill me if I’m late.”

  “That’s not a lie.”

  I kissed her lips. “Let’s see each other afterward?”

  “Yes. Dinner tonight, with Jason and Kelly, maybe?”

  “I’d love to, but maybe tomorrow? I’m a bit busy tonight. Actually, I was going to ask you—do you think you can hang over at TJ’s tonight for a bit?”

  She smiled. “Why? Is someone else sampling your chocolate this afternoon?”

  “Depends. Would that make you jealous?” I joked.

  “Jealous? Please, I hardly like you.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re hardly even cute, anyway. You’re actually kind of ugly.”

  “Oh, is that so?” I stood up and lifted her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around me.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “To take a shower with me so I can show you just how ugly I can be.”

  After we finished our shower, we got dressed, and just as we were about to leave the apartment, I got a call from Mom. “Hey, sorry we’re running behind a bit. I’m on my way now.”

  “That’s not it, Elliott,” she said, her voice sounding somber.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just need to talk to you. We need to talk.”

  “On my way.” I grabbed my coat and my keys as Jasmine looked at me, concerned.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but we gotta go.”

  We arrived at TJ’s house, where he and Mom sat on the sofa. She brought us up to date with everything that was going on. “I should’ve told you right away, but I knew you two were out last night and—”

  “You should’ve told us right away,” I huffed, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed.

  “I know, I know.” She nodded. “I’m sorr
y, I was just stunned. I didn’t even tell TJ until this morning, and he had me call you right away.”

  “This isn’t your mother’s doing, Elliott. Just remember that,” TJ said.

  “They left a note?” Jasmine asked, reaching out toward Mom, taking the piece of paper. Her eyes danced across the words, and a weighted sigh fell from between her lips.

  “Yes. It was in my mailbox yesterday afternoon. I wasn’t sure how to handle it…how to feel.”

  “Can I see?” I asked Jasmine. She stood up and walked it over to me.

  Ms. Adams,

  I know this is crossing the line, and I hope someday you will forgive me for crossing it. After everything your family has suffered, it is ill of me to even reach out to you, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d always sit with a pit of regret and guilt in my stomach for not trying.

  As you know, Todd is facing life in prison with no chance of parole. My son’s life is gone. He will spend the rest of his days behind bars for the act he committed six years ago. The day you lost your daughter, I, too, lost a child—definitely not to the same extreme as your loss, but still, there is a hollowness inside my entire being.

  I wasn’t a good mother.

  I never showed up when I should have, and I focused too much on work to really give any type of love to my children. I grew up in a home where love wasn’t common, and I seemed to carry that down in the way I raised my children.

  I left them to their own destruction because I never gave them any order.

  I figured if I had survived growing up in a house that was never a home then my sons would be fine too.

  My older son was trouble, but not like Todd.

  Todd was reckless. He was screaming for years for his father and me to notice him, and we ignored his shouts. We figured he’d grow out of it. We’d figured he’d make his way to college, still rebel, but come out with a career, a wife, and children.

  Truth was, there was a darkness that hovered over Todd. It was a heavy cloud, and I realize now that I was the one who placed it there. I ignored his cries, so his days grew dark.

  My son did the act, yes. He took your daughter’s life, but if there’s anyone else to blame, I know it’s me.

  I should’ve loved him better. I should’ve done more.

  Five years ago, my eldest son moved away, and I haven’t heard from him since. Three months ago, my husband took his own life. It was too much for him.

  It’s been too much for us all.

  Todd wrote me a few weeks back, asking me to reach out to you and your son. He wanted me to express how heavy his heart is with what happened, how weighted his pain is.

  He wanted to know if he could somehow express that to you.

  He wanted me to ask if you’d be willing to visit him at the Louisiana State Penitentiary.

  I know this is a lot, and if I do not hear from you, I will fully understand and will not reach out again.

  I again express my deepest sorrows for the loss of Katie. I know my apologies will never be enough and will always appear empty, but do know that they exist. Do know that there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t think of your suffering and wish I could ease it away.

  I hope to hear from you soon.

  If not, I understand and send blessings your way.

  -Marie Clause

  “This is bu-bullshit,” I hissed. “How dare she even write to you! How dare she reach out!” I hollered, my blood boiling. I was livid at her words, at her apologies. The nerve she had to actually walk up to my mother’s mailbox and leave that kind of message for her—it enraged me.

  “Calm down, son,” TJ urged.

  “No.” I paced back and forth, my hands forming fists. “We should report this. We should let the cops know that these people, these monsters are crossing lines. They are going to pay for this. They aren’t allowed to—”

  “Her husband committed suicide, and her other son moved away, Elliott. It’s not they, it’s only her,” Mom interjected.

  “But still, she had no right to—”

  “I’m meeting with him.”

  My heart snapped in half as I turned to face her. “What?”

  She had tears rolling down her cheeks, and her body shook as TJ comforted her. “I’m meeting with him. I’ve already decided, Eli. I just called you over to see if you wanted to come with me.”

  “You’re…you…” My mind was jumbled, and words wouldn’t leave my mouth. She was talking insane. She was playing with the devil, the same devil who had taken away my sister—her daughter. “You can’t.”

  “I am.”

  “Eli…” Jasmine started, standing up to walk toward me, but I tossed my hand up to warn her back.

  My eyes peered into Mom’s and I shook my head. “How could you do this?” I asked, baffled by her choices. We owed these people nothing. They had taken from us, not the other way around. “You’re making the bi-biggest mistake of your life.”

  I marched out the front door, and it didn’t take long for Jasmine to race after me and grab my arm. “Eli, wait!” she said, grabbing my arm.

  I tensed up at her touch and couldn’t look her way. No. She’d try to make me understand. She’d try to break through to me. “Jasmine?” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Let me go.”

  “No, Elliott. I won’t. I can’t. Let’s go talk to her. Let’s—”

  “Jasmine!” I shouted this time, my blood boiling inside of me. I turned her way, and her eyes were wide with worry. “Let. Me. Go.”

  She slowly released her hold on my arm, and I stormed off, not looking back her way.

  If I saw her, I would beg her to follow me, to help me escape my mind. I would ask her to make me understand.

  But in that moment, I didn’t want to understand. In that moment all I wanted to do was escape reality.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jasmine

  “Jason!” I shouted, racing into the bar. He was setting up getting ready to open in a few hours.

  When he heard his name, he turned to face me. “Jasmine? What’s going on?”

  “Is Elliott here?”

  “Yeah, he stormed upstairs about ten minutes ago. Why? Is everything okay?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “It’s not.” I filled Jason in on everything that had happened, and the worry in his eyes matched my own.

  “He’s going to snap,” he told me.

  “Yeah, I know. That’s why he needs us right now. He needs us close, otherwise he’ll start building that wall again, but I’m sure he locked the door upstairs.”

  Jason grabbed his set of keys. “Don’t worry, I got a spare. Come on.”

  We hurried up the stairs, and when we walked inside, there Elliott was, hammering away at his punching bag. He wasn’t wearing boxing gloves. His fists were just pounding into the bag repeatedly, leaving cuts and bruises across his knuckles.

  “Brother, what are you doing?” Jason asked, slowly approaching Elliott.

  “You can’t just ba-bar-barge in here,” he barked as he continued to hit the bag.

  “Eli.” I grimaced. “We were worried about you. That was a lot back at TJ’s. What’s going on in your mind?”

  He kept hammering, not replying.

  “Eli, talk to us, please,” I urged.

  “I don’t want to,” he whispered.

  “Come on, man, we’re here,” Jason offered.

  “I don’t want you here!” he shouted, hitting the bag one more time before turning to face us. His chest heaved, rising and falling faster and faster. “Leave.”

  Jason stood tall. “No.”

  Elliott’s wild stare moved to me. “Leave,” he repeated.

  I mirrored Jason’s stance. “No.”

  He grew angrier and angrier, his breathing erratic, his beautiful eyes filled with madness. “Fine.” He pushed past both of us. “Then I’ll go.”

  We called after him, but he wouldn’t turn around. The moment he got outside, he took off running, not lookin
g back once.

  “We looked everywhere, Laura,” Jason told Elliott’s mom on the phone as we sat in his car. We’d just left the last gym we figured Elliott might go to, and we’d had no luck finding him. “We’ll keep looking through.” He paused. “No, really, you stay with TJ. He’ll pop back up. We’ll call if we hear anything. Okay, bye.” He hung up and released a heavy sigh. “Well, this fucking sucks.”

  “I can just imagine his mind spinning. It’s breaking my heart…” Elliott had been MIA for hours now, with no word. The sun had set a while ago, and still, he was gone.

  “I know, me too. I just can’t imagine where he might be.” He exhaled audibly. “We checked every gym, every jazz bar, hell, even the music corner on Frenchmen Street, and nothing. I literally have no clue…maybe we should wait for him to cool off? I’m sure he’ll return to Daze.”

  My mind was racing, and my gut was tight with nerves. “Jason, can we check one more place?” I asked.

  He put his car into drive and nodded. “Just tell me where.”

  We parked the car and hurried to the alleyway on Frenchmen Street. Jason let out a sigh of relief as we stared at Elliott sitting on top of the dumpster.

  “Thank God,” he whispered. “Should we both go or…?”

  “I’ll go,” I told him. “If you could let Laura know we found him, that would be great. Thank you for everything.” I pulled him into a hug.

  “Of course. Anytime.”

  He headed out, and I took a few moments to observe Elliott. His shoulders were rounded, and his hands gripped the edge of the dumpster. He seemed so defeated.

  “Hey.” I smiled, walking his way.

  He looked up and gave me a broken grin. “Hey.”

  “Can I sit with you?”

  He took a moment before he scooted over, making room for me to join him. “I’m s-sorry.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. My mind was…”

  “Hurting. Your mind was hurting, and I understand. You just worried us, that’s all.” I lay my head on his shoulder and scooted closer to him. “Talk to me?”