Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I thought about it sometimes, when I lay in bed, looking at the ceiling fan in the studio apartment my parole officer had found for me. It was weird how I’d specifically noticed the fan in Jojo’s room that night, and now I lay watching the one here, listening to the sounds of Sacramento outside my window.
Trying not to think of him…not to wonder where he was. Was he still in LA? He’d stopped writing a long time ago, Mouse and Romeo too.
I could find out, of course. I could call my dad, but I wouldn’t. I could go to Hendersonville, talk to Mouse’s mom or Romeo’s parents, but I wouldn’t do that either.
It was easier to lose myself in the city, and that’s what I wanted.
I stayed out of trouble, checked in regularly with my parole officer, had clean drug tests, which were mandatory for all parolees, lived where I was supposed to, worked in the garage they’d helped me get a job at. The guy who owned it was an ex-con too. He was in his fifties. Had turned his life around. Tried to take me under his wing, but I didn’t let him, not the way I had Herbert. I wasn’t risking that shit again.
But I let him teach me about cars, and I caught on quickly because it was something I’d always been pretty good at anyway.
The old Gage tried less and less to sneak out of the box. When he did, sometimes he hated Joey…hated him because loving him had been what got us into this situation. Because he’d had a life, and as much as I wanted that for him, I’d wanted to have one with him.
Hating Jojo made me hate myself more.
But then, something else was there too, always there, the fact that even when I thought I hated him, I still loved him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Joey
Nine years.
Gage had gone to prison nine years ago. I still thought about it sometimes, even though I tried not to, tried not to let him inside me.
Craig was long gone. Eventually, he’d told me he wanted more. An ultimatum: get serious or get gone.
I’d gotten gone.
Angie and Kevin were married now, with a baby coming. They’d lost the nicknames at some point along the way. It had been silly to use them as long as I had. They were part of before, of the old Joey. Their friends had always looked at me strangely when I’d been around them anyway, like, who’s the quiet, gruff dude who calls you Mouse and Romeo?
But yeah, nine years and Gage was out. I didn’t know how long he’d been out. The only reason I was aware at all was that Angie and Kevin had gone home to see their families—they invited me, of course, but I didn’t go. I never went.
Something had made them try to go and see Gage. Angie had called me right away. “He’s out, Joey. They have no inmate by the name of Gage Beaumont.”
I wasn’t sure what she expected me to do with that information. Find him? Was it supposed to fix me? I wasn’t broken, I was changed. How could I not be after what we’d been through? As much as I loved them, Kevin and Angie would never understand that. How could they? They hadn’t spent the most perfect night with the person they loved more than themselves, only to have it snatched away, three weeks shy of freedom.
They hadn’t seen hate in their father’s eyes as his fists had come down. They hadn’t heard the sound of the bat hitting his head.
Seen the look in Gage’s eyes.
Watched him vomit.
Cried with him, pleaded with him to run away.
They hadn’t been told they weren’t wanted and sent away by the only person who could understand what I was going through.
I hated him now. Somehow, over the years, I’d grown to hate him, and I could never forgive him for making me do that. Hating myself was one thing, but not him, never him. Only now I did.
I’d made a few friends—a couple of guys from the gym and a guy from the shop. I worked a lot. Still smoked sometimes. Fucked guys but rarely the same one twice. I even fought sometimes, but that wasn’t on the up-and-up—illegal street fighting to remind myself I was strong now. I kept that from Angie and Kev.
“He’s out, Joey. They have no inmate by the name of Gage Beaumont.”
I didn’t care. I didn’t have it in me anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Gage
What in the hell am I doing here?
The city of angels.
The knowledge that I had no business in Los Angeles was there, but I needed…something. Something fresh. Something new. Which was bullshit, but still.
All I knew was, it was over. Parole was done. I could go where I wanted, live where I wanted, and I’d wanted away from Northern California.