“Eventually.”
Every muscle in my body seems to ease, and I grip the bars in desperation. “Can I get out now? Can I see her?”
I see the remorse in their eyes when they look away, just for a moment. Misty says, “The bail hearing is set for Monday, Lucas. I’ve requested that you stay here until then. That way you’re close to me, close to family.”
I stay in the stupid cell, alone, the eons ticking by one after the other. Dad returns to give me my emergency glasses I requested because contacts don’t do well with tears, with pain and agony. I tell him not to come back, that I don’t want to see him until the bail hearing.
When Monday morning comes, I change into a clean suit Dad brought me and breathe in fresh air for the first time in what feels like forever. I sit in the only courtroom in town, in front of the only judge in town, next to a lawyer I’d never met before. Dad has a lawyer for the business, but this one specializes in crime. Because that’s what I am now. A criminal. All I want is for them to announce bail, for Dad to hopefully pay it, and for me to spend the rest of the day, the rest of my life, next to Laney.
Judge Nelson, a woman who should’ve retired years ago, reads a sheet of paper out loud explaining my assault charges, and I look over at Dad and Misty sitting behind me and for a second, just one, I’m scared for me. I didn’t assault just anybody. I wanted to kill Cooper Kennedy, whose family has more than enough Fuck You money to get exactly what they want. I’m going to prison for a long time, too long to ask Laney to wait for me.
Judge Nelson sets bail and gives me the conditions of my release: A restraining order has been granted from the Kennedys, meaning I can’t be within a hundred yards of him. Fine, I think, until I hear Dad murmuring to Misty behind me. Misty stands. “If I may, Your Honor.”
Judge Nelson smiles at her. “Misty, I’ve known you since before you could walk.” Small towns. “Why so formal?”
Misty clears her throat, squares her shoulders. “I’d like to request a temporary lift on the RO, limited to the hospital, with police supervision.”
Judge Nelson’s gray eyebrows bunch, and she switches her gaze from Misty to me and back again. She calls for a ten-minute recess and requests both myself and Misty to her “chambers.” My head spins. I know nothing of what the fuck is happening, and I thought I was getting out. I need to get out. I need to see Laney.
Misty and I don’t have time to discuss anything before we’re sitting in leather chairs inside a room with Judge Nelson. It smells like old lady perfume, Band-Aids and hotel room Bibles.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Judge Nelson asks, sitting down opposite us.
Misty doesn’t skip a beat. “Cooper Kennedy is sitting in a hospital room four doors down from Lois Sanders.”
And all of a sudden I go from knowing nothing to knowing too much.
Misty adds, “With the restraining order in place, Lucas—I mean Mr. Preston—can’t visit her. I’m simply requesting—”
Judge Nelson cuts in. “You have a personal relationship with Miss Sanders, correct?”
“She’s my boyfriend’s daughter.”
“And you think she deserves special privileges?”
“Your Honor.” I don’t recognize my own voice. “May I speak?”
Judge Nelson nods. “If it’s quick. I have to be back in session soon.”
My heart pounds, my breaths uneven. I push through. “Laney—I mean Lois—we’ve been best friends since we were eleven, and I’ve loved her every day since then. Right now…” A sob forces its way up my throat, out my mouth. “Right now, I’m lost. I have no idea what’s going to happen to me. I just know that I need to see her. And if I’m feeling this, I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling. We’ve been side by side through everything, ma’am. And I understand that you have to do your job, that you have to abide by the laws set to protect, but no one was protecting her when Cooper decided to unload four bullets into her body.”
Misty’s hand lands on my shoulder and I hear her cries, louder than mine.
“You asked if we think Laney deserves special privileges as if there’s a logical answer to that question. She fell in love with the wrong guy in the wrong way, and I let her down. I let him lead her away from me, and I was supposed to protect her. To save her.” To be her Wonderwall. “And I need to see her so she knows she’s loved, that she didn’t deserve this, and selfishly, I need to tell her I’m sorry so she can forgive me. Because I need her forgiveness, ma’am. More than I need my next breath.”
Judge Nelson cancels her sessions for the rest of the day, parking fines and petty disputes, and we ride to the hospital in a police cruiser while Dad follows in his car. The judge asks me about Laney, about the type of person she is, and about our relationship. I answer each one as best I can, but my mind is both numb and frantic, and there are too many words, words, words racing through my head, so many different ways to say I’m sorry.
My steps falter and my gut twists when we enter the hospital, walk down the halls, and I see a police officer guarding Cooper’s room as if he’s the one who needs the protection. But Judge Nelson raises her hand, says, “He’s with me.” And the officer sits back down, reads his paper.
It takes fifteen steps to pass three rooms until I’m standing in front of Laney’s door, lost. I look to Misty, look to Dad. “Go on,” Dad says. “You need each other.” He didn’t say that I need her or that she needs me. We need each other. Like air in our lungs. Like life in our blood.
There are no words to describe the slaughtering of my heart when I see Laney in the bed, her right leg bandaged, elevated, tubes and machines hooked up to her body. “She’s out,” Brian says, sitting in the dark corner of the room. He looks like I feel and I force myself forward, step after step, until I’m standing next to her, looking down, and I’ve never missed those eyes as much as I miss them now, hidden behind her closed lids.
Dad pulls up a chair, sets it behind me as if he knows I’m struggling to stand, to see. I sit down, take her hand in mine.
Brian says, “I’m not sure if she’s sleeping or if the pain meds…” He sighs. So tired. So broken. “Talk to her, Luke. She’s been asking for you.”
It’s hard to pull words from your heart when there are four other people standing in the room, watching, waiting. “Hey, baby. It’s Lucas.” Stupid. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come see you. I’ve been… don’t worry where I’ve been. I just…” I drop my head on her hand and I forget the words, the need for her forgiveness, and I cry. You’d think that I’d be done with crying but seeing her, touching her, it’s everything I wanted and needed, and I thought it would fix everything but it doesn’t. Dad grasps my shoulder, his huge frame like a giant boulder when he squats down next to me. “It’s okay,” he says.
But it’s not.
I’m crying harder, tears and snot and drool and bandages and hospitals and court dates and criminal charges and all I’ve ever wanted was coconuts, lime and Laney.
Every muscle in my body seems to ease, and I grip the bars in desperation. “Can I get out now? Can I see her?”
I see the remorse in their eyes when they look away, just for a moment. Misty says, “The bail hearing is set for Monday, Lucas. I’ve requested that you stay here until then. That way you’re close to me, close to family.”
I stay in the stupid cell, alone, the eons ticking by one after the other. Dad returns to give me my emergency glasses I requested because contacts don’t do well with tears, with pain and agony. I tell him not to come back, that I don’t want to see him until the bail hearing.
When Monday morning comes, I change into a clean suit Dad brought me and breathe in fresh air for the first time in what feels like forever. I sit in the only courtroom in town, in front of the only judge in town, next to a lawyer I’d never met before. Dad has a lawyer for the business, but this one specializes in crime. Because that’s what I am now. A criminal. All I want is for them to announce bail, for Dad to hopefully pay it, and for me to spend the rest of the day, the rest of my life, next to Laney.
Judge Nelson, a woman who should’ve retired years ago, reads a sheet of paper out loud explaining my assault charges, and I look over at Dad and Misty sitting behind me and for a second, just one, I’m scared for me. I didn’t assault just anybody. I wanted to kill Cooper Kennedy, whose family has more than enough Fuck You money to get exactly what they want. I’m going to prison for a long time, too long to ask Laney to wait for me.
Judge Nelson sets bail and gives me the conditions of my release: A restraining order has been granted from the Kennedys, meaning I can’t be within a hundred yards of him. Fine, I think, until I hear Dad murmuring to Misty behind me. Misty stands. “If I may, Your Honor.”
Judge Nelson smiles at her. “Misty, I’ve known you since before you could walk.” Small towns. “Why so formal?”
Misty clears her throat, squares her shoulders. “I’d like to request a temporary lift on the RO, limited to the hospital, with police supervision.”
Judge Nelson’s gray eyebrows bunch, and she switches her gaze from Misty to me and back again. She calls for a ten-minute recess and requests both myself and Misty to her “chambers.” My head spins. I know nothing of what the fuck is happening, and I thought I was getting out. I need to get out. I need to see Laney.
Misty and I don’t have time to discuss anything before we’re sitting in leather chairs inside a room with Judge Nelson. It smells like old lady perfume, Band-Aids and hotel room Bibles.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Judge Nelson asks, sitting down opposite us.
Misty doesn’t skip a beat. “Cooper Kennedy is sitting in a hospital room four doors down from Lois Sanders.”
And all of a sudden I go from knowing nothing to knowing too much.
Misty adds, “With the restraining order in place, Lucas—I mean Mr. Preston—can’t visit her. I’m simply requesting—”
Judge Nelson cuts in. “You have a personal relationship with Miss Sanders, correct?”
“She’s my boyfriend’s daughter.”
“And you think she deserves special privileges?”
“Your Honor.” I don’t recognize my own voice. “May I speak?”
Judge Nelson nods. “If it’s quick. I have to be back in session soon.”
My heart pounds, my breaths uneven. I push through. “Laney—I mean Lois—we’ve been best friends since we were eleven, and I’ve loved her every day since then. Right now…” A sob forces its way up my throat, out my mouth. “Right now, I’m lost. I have no idea what’s going to happen to me. I just know that I need to see her. And if I’m feeling this, I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling. We’ve been side by side through everything, ma’am. And I understand that you have to do your job, that you have to abide by the laws set to protect, but no one was protecting her when Cooper decided to unload four bullets into her body.”
Misty’s hand lands on my shoulder and I hear her cries, louder than mine.
“You asked if we think Laney deserves special privileges as if there’s a logical answer to that question. She fell in love with the wrong guy in the wrong way, and I let her down. I let him lead her away from me, and I was supposed to protect her. To save her.” To be her Wonderwall. “And I need to see her so she knows she’s loved, that she didn’t deserve this, and selfishly, I need to tell her I’m sorry so she can forgive me. Because I need her forgiveness, ma’am. More than I need my next breath.”
Judge Nelson cancels her sessions for the rest of the day, parking fines and petty disputes, and we ride to the hospital in a police cruiser while Dad follows in his car. The judge asks me about Laney, about the type of person she is, and about our relationship. I answer each one as best I can, but my mind is both numb and frantic, and there are too many words, words, words racing through my head, so many different ways to say I’m sorry.
My steps falter and my gut twists when we enter the hospital, walk down the halls, and I see a police officer guarding Cooper’s room as if he’s the one who needs the protection. But Judge Nelson raises her hand, says, “He’s with me.” And the officer sits back down, reads his paper.
It takes fifteen steps to pass three rooms until I’m standing in front of Laney’s door, lost. I look to Misty, look to Dad. “Go on,” Dad says. “You need each other.” He didn’t say that I need her or that she needs me. We need each other. Like air in our lungs. Like life in our blood.
There are no words to describe the slaughtering of my heart when I see Laney in the bed, her right leg bandaged, elevated, tubes and machines hooked up to her body. “She’s out,” Brian says, sitting in the dark corner of the room. He looks like I feel and I force myself forward, step after step, until I’m standing next to her, looking down, and I’ve never missed those eyes as much as I miss them now, hidden behind her closed lids.
Dad pulls up a chair, sets it behind me as if he knows I’m struggling to stand, to see. I sit down, take her hand in mine.
Brian says, “I’m not sure if she’s sleeping or if the pain meds…” He sighs. So tired. So broken. “Talk to her, Luke. She’s been asking for you.”
It’s hard to pull words from your heart when there are four other people standing in the room, watching, waiting. “Hey, baby. It’s Lucas.” Stupid. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come see you. I’ve been… don’t worry where I’ve been. I just…” I drop my head on her hand and I forget the words, the need for her forgiveness, and I cry. You’d think that I’d be done with crying but seeing her, touching her, it’s everything I wanted and needed, and I thought it would fix everything but it doesn’t. Dad grasps my shoulder, his huge frame like a giant boulder when he squats down next to me. “It’s okay,” he says.
But it’s not.
I’m crying harder, tears and snot and drool and bandages and hospitals and court dates and criminal charges and all I’ve ever wanted was coconuts, lime and Laney.
