He nodded anyway, thinking he’d made it through another day. Another day toward his release. Toward freedom.
Nate did get awakened in the middle of the night, but it wasn’t because of heavy boots on the floor and those sweeping lights crisscrossing the dormitory.
No, someone was talking.
The men in his wing didn’t cause trouble, for the most part. Sometimes Ted could get a bee in his bonnet, but he had a louder bark than a bite. Though, Nate supposed he probably could have a mighty loud bite too. He’d been incarcerated for aggravated assault. He’d gotten into a scuffle at his law office, used his fists to get the other guy away from him, and found out the hard way that undercover cops could literally be anywhere.
To make matters worse, Ted had been holding a knife in one hand because he’d been cutting a cake for an office party.
Thus, he’d gotten aggravated assault on a police officer. The law office had been under investigation for some questionable activity with the drug cartel along the Southern border, and Ted had become the fall guy.
He hadn’t used the knife, but he was in possession of it. He hadn’t handled the wrong accounts, but he suddenly had a target on his back. He’d fought for the rights of his clients, and in the end, he’d lost his.ho
Nate thought sometimes the law could be downright comical.
“Nate,” a man whispered, bending down to shine his light right into Nate’s eyes.
He knew the voice, even if he was blinded to Percy’s face. “What?” he asked, trying not to sound irritated. Some Unit Officers handed out tickets for much more innocent questions than the one Nate had just asked. He held up one hand to shield his retinas from all that blasted light.
“Come with me.” Percy straightened and walked away, leaving Nate confused as he tried to sit up and reason through why he’d need to go with Percy.
Rule number one in prison: Don’t go off with a guard alone.
Nate flicked a glance at Ted, who slept on the bottom bunk only five feet from Nate. They shared the desk sitting between the two sets of bunk beds, but Nate got his own locker for his personal belongings.
“Come on,” Percy said from the doorway, and Nate stood up.
“I need shoes,” he said.
“Not for this.”
“For what?” Nate asked, his pulse starting to beat a little too fast through his body. The weight of every eye in his wing was on him, but Nate had literally never caused a scene before.
Percy turned back to him, and anguish rolled across the man’s face. “You better get dressed and put on your boots.”
Nate nodded and got changed, not caring that everyone watched him. He had to get strip searched to go into the suicide unit, so switching out his sweat pants and T-shirt for the official prison uniform was no big deal.
Ready, he walked toward Percy, who still looked like he was one breath away from crying. Ellen appeared in the hallway, a panicked look on her face. Nate frowned at her and followed Percy out of the room.
The other guard said, “Go back to sleep.”
“What’s going on?” Ted asked. “You can’t just take him. He’s done nothing.”
The door closed, sealing all the other inmates in while Nate was out. He looked through the unbreakable glass, his eyes meeting Ted’s. He’d been in for longer than Nate, and he’d just reached nickel status.
Five years.
“The Commander and the Warden want to see you,” Percy said.
“Why?” Nate asked, feeling courageous that evening.
“I’ll let them explain.”
Ellen marched at the head of their group as they left the building and started down the sidewalk under the watchful eye of the moon. Nate normally loved being outside, and he had all the paths of this place memorized.
He’d only met the Warden a handful of times, and the experiences had all been good. Tension rode on the air as the four of them walked, Ellen’s heels making the most noise against the concrete.
She led the way into the Warden’s office too, where five men stood around the man’s massive desk. They all turned toward Ellen and the others as they entered.
Nate stopped in the doorway, everything in his body telling him not to enter this room. He scanned the men quickly, making a dozen observations. Prison could teach a man to notice the slightest of things, that was for sure.
The Warden looked as he normally did. Properly put together, with a tie knotted around his neck. Today’s was blue with black stripes.
Two other police officers stood in the office, and they looked like they’d just stepped out of a coffee shop on their nightly beat.
Nate’s fingers clenched into a fist when he met his lawyer’s eye, and he raised his chin. “What’s going on?” he asked. Lawyers didn’t make house calls at one-thirty in the morning, that was for dang sure. Especially not Lawrence Matthews.
No one spoke. The people in the room all looked around at one another, their gazes ultimately coming back to his.
The last man in the room was Nate’s Unit Manager, Gregory Fellows. He wore a grim look and nodded to Ellen.
“Nate, come sit down,” she said.
Nate couldn’t get his legs to work. “Ellen,” he said as evenly as he could, but his nerves made everything inside him vibrate. “Just say it.”
She sat down on a black leather couch just inside the door. Clearing her throat, she adjusted her legs and set a folder on her lap before she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
Actual tears.
Nate wanted to run as far and as fast as he could. Whatever she was about to say wasn’t good.
“Nate,” she said again. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother has passed away.”
A pit opened in his stomach, but he still managed to ask, “What?”
“Ward passed away,” she said.
His brother’s name echoed in Nate’s mind. A shriek started in his soul. “But he’s coming on Friday,” he said stupidly. “He’s bringing Connor.” Ward didn’t bring his son every time, but usually a couple of times a month. He’d emailed to say Connor had made something for Nate at preschool, so they’d both be coming that weekend.
“No, honey,” Ellen said, standing. She put her hand on his arm, and Nate just stared at it. “There was an accident on the ranch, and they did everything they could.” She swiped at her face with her free hand.
“But he just audits ranches,” Nate said, not comprehending. “What kind of accident?” How did someone die when they carried around a clipboard and a ballpoint pen?
Lawrence stepped forward. “Nate, I got here as quickly as I could. Once the will was read, we moved swiftly to—”
“When did he die?” Nate asked, the words belonging to someone else. He looked from Lawrence to Ellen.
“Monday morning,” Ellen whispered.
“But it’s Wednesday,” Nate said, confusion riddling his thoughts. They were so knotted, and Nate didn’t know how to unravel them.
“You didn’t miss the funeral,” Ellen said. Her dark eyes reminded Nate of his father’s. Why he was thinking of that, he didn’t know.
“Were you aware your brother named you the legal guardian of his son?” Lawrence asked, reaching into his fancy-pants briefcase. He removed a sheaf of papers and handed them to Nate.