“Her name is Aubrey. She’s… uh... a friend of mine.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes skirted over me as he said, “Never known you to have any friends who looked like her.”
“First time for everything.” Menace glanced over to me for a moment, then turned his attention back to Dalton. He motioned his hand over to Dalton’s bicep, where a skull with flames tattoo marked his skin. The red, swollen skin made it obvious that it was fresh and quite possibly infected. “I see you got yourself some new ink.”
“Figured it was time.” Dalton lifted his arm, revealing the different tattoos that marked his skin. “Got one for every year I’ve been in here.”
Menace replied with a hint of sarcasm, “Glad you’ve found something to occupy your time.”
“Do what I gotta do. You gonna tell me why you two are here or what?”
“You ever heard anything about a guy named Rossi,” Menace answered. “He’s connected to the Italian mafia.”
“Can’t say that I have, but I could ask around.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table as he studied Menace for a moment. “Something going on I need to know about?”
“Just taking care of a situation with Aubrey. Nothing for you to be concerned about.” Menace looked over to me before he continued, “We’ve got it covered.”
Maybe it was because there wasn’t much Dalton could do to help while he was behind bars or that they wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about it in front of me, but Menace didn’t tell Dalton the story behind Rossi and me—or his plan of taking me to see this Billy guy. Instead, he simply said, “Just wanted to stop by and let ya know that we’re gonna be leaving town for a few days.”
“You know I don’t like that shit. This got something to do with that Rossi fella?”
“Yeah, but like I said, nothing to be concerned about.”
“If you say so.”
“You need anything before we head out?”
“A ticket out of here would be great. Otherwise, I’m good.”
I took another glance around the room, and my chest tightened when I realized we were completely surrounded by men in orange. It was impossible not to worry that I’d gotten myself into an even bigger mess than I was already in. I’d been running from criminals for months, and now I landed myself right into the thick of them. It was enough to make me wonder if I should get up and run out of there, but then it hit me. Maybe, just maybe, fighting fire with fire was the only way to survive this ordeal with Rossi. Since Menace and the brothers were going out of their way to help me, I thought it was only fair that I tried to do the same for him. I could tell by the way he spoke that he and his brothers thought a lot of Dalton, so I looked over to him. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
“Okay. What’s on your mind?”
“Do you have a date set for your parole hearing?”
“Why ya ask?”
“Just curious.”
“Well, if you must know, my case goes up to the parole board in a couple of months, but I’m not holding my breath for an actual hearing. These motherfuckers aren’t gonna let me outta here any time soon.”
“Have you done your part to show that you’re ready to be reintegrated into society? Have you gotten into any trouble while you’ve been here? Did you take any classes or get counseling?
“My father was a lawyer. I worked at his office in the summers while I was going to college, and I picked up on a couple of things.”
“Pfft,” he grumbled. “So, you worked with your daddy, and now you think you know more than my lawyer and can get me out of this place?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all.” I tried to assure him. “My father was really good at his job. He’d always hoped I would follow in his footsteps, so he taught me a few things along the way—like how important a parole hearing could be.”
“How so?”
“Well, there are certain things the board looks at when they’re trying to decide if a hearing is justified, and good behavior is only a small part of it. They want to see that you’re making an effort to prepare for the transition back into society.”
“I’ve done what I can.”
“So, no trouble since you’ve been here?”
“Just a couple of run-ins, but I haven’t initiated anything, and I haven’t killed anyone while I’ve been in here—if that’s what you’re asking.” When I didn’t respond, he said, “It’s hard to keep your nose completely clean in a place like this, but again, I haven’t started any trouble.”
“Okay, that’s a start. What about classes or a job?”
“No classes, but I’m working. Been making fucking license plates for the past two damn years.”
“Would you consider being moved to a position where you could learn a field... maybe plumbing or electrical or carpentry?”
“Those are hard to get.”
“I’m aware, but you can’t get one unless you try,” I pushed. “And the counseling, especially anger management, could go a long—”
“Fuck that,” he grumbled. “I’m not doing that shit.”
“Easy, brother,” Menace said in a calm voice. “She’s just trying to help.”
“Well, I didn’t ask for fucking help!” He leaned over to us as he spat, “It’s bullshit! I don’t need fucking anger management!”
“Clearly.” I stood and turned to Menace. “I think it’s best I wait for you outside.”
“Sit,” Dalton ordered. I didn’t budge. I was too scared to make a move, so I simply stood there until his expression softened, and he muttered, “I’m sorry for the outburst. Please, just sit.”
No longer feeling threatened, I sat down and said, “I’m sorry for pushing. I know Menace thinks a lot of you. Apparently, all your brothers do. I was only trying to give a little advice in hopes of getting you out of this place as soon as possible.”
“You really think the counseling will help?”
“It’s one of the first things my father would suggest to his clients when they were trying to get out on parole.”
Menace and Dalton shared a look, then Menace said, “Just say the word. I’ll get in touch with the attorney and see what we can get set up.”
“Make it happen.”
“You got it.” Menace turned and looked over at the clock above us, then said, “Sorry to cut it short, but we gotta get going.”
“No problem.” We all stood, and Dalton shook Menace’s hand. “You two be careful doing whatever it is you’re gonna be doing.”
“We will.”
Dalton then turned his attention to me. “Thanks for the advice. Unsolicited or not, I appreciate ya trying to help.”
“I hope it helps.”
“You and me both.”
After a final goodbye, Menace and I walked out of the prisoner’s visiting room and out to the parking lot. Moments later, we were back in the SUV and on the road. We hadn’t been riding long when I felt the urge to say, “I’m sorry if I overstepped back there.”