Parole (The Vault)

by Kathy Coopmans

  The doctors told me determination was the reason I was alive after they ran a drug test and found enough heroine in my system to kill me. They also found quite a bit of LSD, which after further talking to Zack, those two drugs along with cocaine was what Luciano was dealing.

  Against doctor’s orders, I let my room, got dressed, and went searching for Tara.

  Once I entered her room, I fell to my knees when I saw her sleeping peacefully and was told Nola was in the nursery and she was okay.

  Zack had filled me in on their plan to get Tara. Apparently, they had taken her to a small cottage just shy of the Canadian border.

  Except, they didn’t get that far. My brother walked in with several agents. Seeing him threw Luciano’s mother off. She screamed, tried to run out the back door, and was caught by a female agent, who took the baby while another one arrested her.

  And my brother, he went on the hunt for Tara.

  I’ll forever be grateful for what he did. His final words, though, they will haunt me until the day I die.

  “I’m not here for you. I’m here for an innocent woman and her child and because Zack asked for my help, so do not say one word to me, Trent, or I’ll kill two men with my bare hands tonight.”

  After I saw Tara with my own two eyes, I was forced back to my room. I lay in my bed and watched him stand in the doorway. Everything about him resembled me right down to the beard and hair.

  I didn’t speak, but I wanted to. I already knew what they had been planning. Turner had been supposed to pose as me and show up at their home in New York once they’d found Nola. Tara had left for her safety as instructed, but she’d had no idea Turner was involved. I’m not sure she would have told me even if she’d known. Wouldn’t blame her at all if she didn’t. After everything she went through to get her back, I believe she would have stayed behind if she were asked.

  “I’ve done what I needed to do. That filth is dead, and his mother will live out her days in prison. And as for you, I hope for the sake of our mother that you treat Tara and that little girl the way they should be. What I did does not mean I forgive you. I don’t, and I never will.” With that, my brother walked out the door. His footsteps echoing down the hall and taking a slice of my heart with them.

  When the guilt comes to haunt me, I take in a breath and reflect on the life I have now.

  After all this time, it still cuts, but with each passing day, it becomes less frequent, and the cuts aren’t deep enough to make me bleed anymore.

  I remind myself I can never take back what I did, and I tell myself that even though I can never forgive myself, in the eyes of Tara and our daughter I don't need to suffer the wrath of my past. I’ve been given a fresh start, and I’ve dived in head and heart first.

  Helping abused women is my saving Grace. It keeps me rooted to the ground, and it has helped me believe that someday, the pain will all go away.

  “Dada.” I roll over, grab the baby monitor, and leave my wife of two weeks sleeping.

  Tara and I were married in our backyard with our friends all around us, and Nola in her mother’s arms.

  “Hey, pretty girl.” I lift her out of her bed, change her, get her a bottle, and carry her back to our room. “Someone wants her mommy,” I say when we enter and see Tara awake.

  “Come here, Nola Jean Calloway, and bring your daddy with you.”

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