“I don’t care about the charges. I can take whatever punishment they give me. But Lucy…I never should’ve gotten so close to her.”
“You say that shit, but I can look at your face and know that, if you could be anywhere right now, it would be with her,” Malcolm remarks.
“She deserves more. And the sooner she sees my future, the quicker she can move on with hers.”
“What are you talking about?” Silas asks.
“I appreciate the dinner, Naomi. And I’m glad I got to see all of you before I go,” I tell them as I get to my feet. “But it’s time for me to turn myself in.”
“The attorney said you didn’t have to go into the police station until tomorrow,” Malcolm grumbles as he gets up and stomps over to me.
“I’m ready now,” I tell him as I give him a back-slapping hug. “Take care of everyone.”
Before he can say anything else, I start making the rounds, giving Wirth, Silas, Fiasco and Devlin each a bear hug goodbye and kissing Jetta, Naomi and Honey on their cheeks.
Then it’s time to get this over with.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lucy
* * *
I’m working away at my computer, still searching for as much information as I can about the victims when I vaguely hear sirens off in the distance.
Gradually, the noise gets louder as if it’s growing closer before I finally cave and get up from my desk to go look out the front window.
“Holy shit!”
In the dark parking lot of the apartment complex, there are no less than four police cruisers, all with their lights on. The men in uniform are crouching behind the car doors with their guns pointed at one target – Nash.
What is he doing back here? He was supposed to be staying with Malcolm tonight and then turning himself in tomorrow after he talks to an attorney. I may have overheard part of their phone call.
Slipping on a pair of flipflops, I head out the door just as one of the officers slams Nash face first on the hood of one of the cars so hard it probably gave him a concussion.
“Hey! That was uncalled for!” I yell at the officer. Several of the other men turn and train their guns on me, but five seconds later decide I’m not a threat but simply a pest that’s not worth their time or concern.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I head toward Nash.
“Go back inside, Lucy!” he yells at me, which causes the officer to slam his head down again for no reason.
“Stay back! This man is armed and dangerous!” the uniformed officer tells me.
“No, he’s not!” I shout back as tears fill my eyes and overflow.
“He’s the sole suspect wanted for questioning in the murders of six people, ma’am,” a cop comes over and tells me as two others roughly shove Nash into the back of a cruiser. “Once he’s convicted, he’ll be locked up for the rest of his life, so I suggest you don’t waste another tear for him.”
“But…I don’t understand. How did you know he was even out here?”
“We got an anonymous tip that he was raising hell and had a gun on him,” the cop replies. “You should be glad we got here when we did.”
“Right, yeah, glad,” I mutter sarcastically through the sobs.
And I know without a doubt that Nash is the anonymous caller. I just don’t understand why he would do this here and now, making a scene when he could’ve easily walked in tomorrow to the police station with an attorney to answer their questions.
Unless…he wanted me to see him for how he sees himself – a no-good criminal. He was trying to give me closure, seeing him taken away in handcuffs, treated like scum.
But the last thing I want from him is closure. What is it going to take for me to finally prove that to him?
Nash
* * *
I’d never been checked into jail for a long stay before, and it was nothing like just being stuck in a holding cell. For one, they actually took all of my clothes when I arrived, stripping me down and doing a very thorough examination to make sure I wasn’t hiding any contraband in any unusual areas. After that, I had to stand in some weird-ass fucking line-up with my face covered. Then, they gave me a set of cheap polyester boxers, an overly large brown top and bottom to wear, a pillow and a scratchy blanket.
When the guard escorts me out of intake and to the cell block I’ll be staying on, I’m appalled at the wave of noise that hits me, as well as the stench of bleach barely covering a vile mix of urine, feces, and absolutely unholy body odor.
“This garden’s got quite an aroma, don’t it?” the guard escorting me snorts as he points towards a cell. “Things starts to get real stinky when you’ve got this many weeds in one place.”
“Aren’t you just a fucking poet?” a man inside the cell he leads me to snarls. “Missed your calling in life when you took this shit job, didn’t you?”
“Shut the fuck up, Frankie, and say hello to your new roommate,” the guard replies, seeming completely unoffended by the man’s insults.
I stare at the small cell, which has a set of bunk beds on each side, all four currently occupied. “So, uh…I’m on the floor or what?” I ask in confusion.
“We’ll get you a cot to set up in the center,” the guard clarifies.
“Oh…great,” I sigh.
“It ain’t so bad,” the prisoner named Frankie says, waving me over. “We’ve had to cram two cots in here before, between the bunks. End up climbing all over each other at night trying to get to the toilet. One cot ain’t so bad, gives us a little room to walk at least.”
“Yeah, all kinds of room for activities with only five of us stuffed in here,” I gripe.
“Hey, get used to it, man,” Frankie grins. “Unless you’re a short-timer, you gotta adjust to this life, or it will fuck you up. I’ve been to prison, and it ain’t no better once you get to the state facilities. Fed can be a little better, if it’s a low security place, but something tells me that ain’t where you’re headed. Am I right?”
“Man, I don’t even know where the fuck I’m headed right now,” I tell him. "I’m still not entirely sure how I ended up here.”
“That’s the spirit, brother,” Frankie says with a grin. “Maintain your innocence — deny, deny, deny. Be careful talking to anyone in here; most of these chumps will try to pry something out of you, just so they can use it against you and try to get their own time reduced. Unless you know someone in here from outside, fuck ‘em.”
“Solid advice,” I concede as I stand awkwardly in the cell, still holding onto the pillow and blanket I was given. “So, uh…any other words of wisdom?”
“Hah, words of wisdom, he says!” Frankie barks. “Not really. But, look, if this shit gets to be too much for you, you can try to get tossed in the hole. Solitary fucks some people up in the head; they can’t take it for long periods. But for a week or two at a time, it can be real fucking pleasant. You can actually get some sleep, and no one tries to steal your fucking food. If worse comes to worse, you can always do something to get yourself a little mini vacation down there. Probably get time added to your sentence, though, so it might not be worth it. Keep that in mind.”