CHAPTER EIGHT
AINSLEY

“Turn here,” I say, pointing out the window to the road that will lead us to the Oklahoma State Penitentiary.

He nods and takes the turn without saying a word. It’s making my nerves stand on end.

“You’re entirely too calm about this.”

“What’s too calm?”

“You! How is it possible that this isn’t weird to you, or even just a little strange?”

He shrugs and keeps his eyes on the road. “Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to have things in your history that you’d rather people not judge you for.”

“You might be a literal saint, Nash Miller.”

“Nah, I’m no one special,” he scoffs. “I’m just a dude who had to grow up faster than I expected.”

“I can relate to that.” But I still don’t think that’s why he’s acting the way he is. “You might not think you’re anything special, but I do.” His hand rests on the center console, brushing against mine. It’s everything I can do to not react. “It’s funny…”

“What is?” he asks.

Being here with him, it feels just like another day. I’m at ease sitting beside him and I’m never at ease when I come here. “I’m used to high stress and intensity. In my line of work, every single patient who comes through the door is potentially life or death, but I’m able to block off all that stress and anxiety. I know I have to, so I can focus on my job. But the anxiety of coming here…”

“It hits different?”

“It always hits me in ways I can’t block off, until—”

A smirk tugs at his mouth. I wish I could see his eyes, but they’re still covered by those sunglasses. “Until today?”

“I’m not the bundle of nerves I usually am when I pull up to these gates,” I admit as he rolls his window down and signs us in.

“Maybe you just needed some support,” he says.

I’ve never needed support before. I’ve been just fine on my own. In fact, I’m typically the support for those around me. Still… I can’t help feeling like I would be completely different in this moment if he weren’t here. I don’t know how to feel about that. He pulls us into a marked space for visitors, and I take a second to check my makeup in the overhead mirror. “I don’t want her to see smudged eyeliner and take my being tired as me being upset.”

“You look beautiful,” he says in almost a whisper. The little wink he flashes at me makes everything inside of me turn to mush. “If I wasn’t dropping you off at prison, I would ask you out on a date.”

I try to fight the laugh, but it belts out anyway. “Uh, thanks.” I stick my tongue out at him, because I am an adult, and hop out of the cab of his truck. My feet hit the pavement with an Oof. The distance between the cab and the ground was a little more than I had anticipated. As soon as the door slams and I take my first step toward the building, I feel a tug inside of me, trying to pull me back to the truck where Nash is waiting.

How is it possible to miss someone when it’s only been five seconds? This is ridiculous. I really need to have my head examined. Maybe Kyle can give me a once over before his shift starts tomorrow. There’s got to be a screw loose somewhere. I let out a long exhale as I walk up to the security window, trying to find the inner calm I had only a few minutes ago. “I’m Ainsley Meyer.” My wallet flops open on the small counter in front of the security window, putting my identification on full display for the guard. “I’m here to see my sister, Lexi Meyer.”

The guard checks the logs on his computer’s screen and then motions for his partner to let me through the gates. “Follow him,” he says. “He’ll take you to the visitation area.”

The gate creaks as it opens to let me pass through. It’s loud and menacing. I hate it. It’s always the worst part of this visit because it feels like it’s mocking me. Like it’s saying, I put her here so I should sit in the cell right next to her. I remind myself that I’m not the one who gave Stone the pills, like that would somehow make it better. After a series of awkward searches, the guard finally takes me into the visitation area. It’s almost the end of the day, so I’m sure there are a lot fewer people here now than there were earlier, but it makes my heart sink to see how empty it is. This is the first weekend they’ve allowed visitors since the government shut everything down. There should be a lot more warm bodies in these chairs. The metallic clang of her chains hitting together reaches me before I can even see her, but I know it’s Lexi from the rhythm of the steps coming from just on the other side of the wall. Her face appears in the small glass window as she lifts the phone, placing it up to her ear. “Long time no see,” she mumbles into the receiver. Her hair is longer than it was the last time I saw her, and it’s not the vibrant red it used to be. It’s turned back to her natural dirty blonde shade. She looks like herself, again; except with more secrets lurking just behind her amber colored eyes.

“I would’ve been here sooner,” I remind her. “You know that.”

She waves her hand in the air. “I know. You never missed a day before.”

“It’s just this damn pandemic. The people at the top can’t seem to get their shit together.”

Her eyes roll back in her head. “I’m so sick of hearing about it. It’s all they talk about in here.”

“It’s that way out there too.” I immediately recoil, wondering if I shouldn’t have said that. I’m always on eggshells when I talk to her, afraid of saying the wrong thing that might make it more difficult on her.

A hint of a smile peeks out of the corners of her lips. “In a few weeks, I’ll be out there, too,” she reminds me.

“I’ve been looking up information on the reentry programs like you ask—”

She holds one palm up to the window, telling me to stop. “Please don’t.”

“Lexi!” Of course, she would try to shut me out now that she’s going to be released.

“Don’t start, Ainsley. I know I asked for your help, but I’ve got it covered now,” she says with a conviction in her voice that I haven’t heard in a long time.

“How can I make sure Stone doesn’t find you if I don’t even know where you’re going?”

“I’m not worried about Stone. That’s ancient history.”

I wish I could be as confident, but she’s never been able to tell him no. I’m not sure why she would think she could start now. Once she’s released, she’ll be vulnerable. More vulnerable than before. “He’s been blipping on and off the radar, Lexi.”

“How is that possible?”

Do I tell her I’m connected to the same band he played for? The angles that conversation could go flash through my mind, none of them ending well. Now’s probably not the time to tell her. “Listen, I don’t think he’s as ancient history as you’d like to think.”

“I got a new attorney. He’s going to handle Stone. Don’t worry.”

“And who is this new attorney? How’d you—if you’re doing something illegal it could end with you serving a lot longer than five years, Lexi,” I hiss into the phone.

“Please let yourself have a day off from worrying and just breathe. Okay?” she asks with the annoying little sister tone.

I don’t know how to not worry when it comes to my sister and the impact Stone could have on her life. “I’m not sure I can do that until I know you’re safe. And now you’re changing attorneys without telling me how you were able to do that?”

She shakes her head. “I am safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

“You know what I mean.”

She lets out a heavy sigh that’s so loud in the receiver I pull it away from my ear. “I promise,” she says, “once I’m settled in, Jerry will let you know where to find me.”

“Jerry? We’re on a first name basis with your new attorney now?”

“Stop.”

“If you can tell me then, why can’t I know beforehand?”

Her head shakes back and forth, but she doesn’t say a word.

“If I knew ahead of time, I could research the facility and make sure it’ll have the resources you’ll need. I could talk to the doctors I work with and get their feedback on its ability to handle your reentry from a medical standpoint.”

“That’s why I don’t want you to know.” She starts to say something else, but the guard shows up behind her and taps on the partial wall beside her.

“Times up,” he says with a no-nonsense tone in his voice.

“Looks like I have to go. Maybe next time we can talk outside,” she says, with a smile as she puts the receiver back on the hook. I hold my emotions together until she’s out of the room. When I hear the metallic clang of the door and can no longer hear the rhythm of the chains she’s wearing, the dam breaks. My tears fall, streaming down my cheeks with no sign of stopping. I hold my head in my hands, sobbing, until a hand taps me on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the guard who led me into the visitation area says. “Visitation hours are over. I have to escort you back outside, now.”

I nod and pull myself together, dragging both hands across the skin just under my eyes, hoping to wipe off any trace of smeared mascara and eyeliner. When I pull my hands away, my fingers are smudged with black. Something tells me there’s still more, but I can’t find the energy to care enough to wipe it away. It’s everything I can do to put one foot in front of the other. As the gate closes behind me, I don’t hear the mocking creaks. I don’t hear anything. It’s like I have put everything on silent and in slow motion. My eyes stay focused on the pavement in front of me as I make my way to where Nash is waiting in the truck. My gaze shifts slowly until my eyes meet his, peering out through the windshield. His happy-go-lucky smile quickly shifts to a look of concern as he hops out of the cab and jogs over to meet me. “Are you okay?” he asks. I nod and lift myself up into the truck. He’s still standing there, holding the door open and waiting for me to answer him.

I can’t find the words.

Or any words, for that matter, so I lean my head back against the headrest and focus on the warmth of the leather against the skin at the back of my neck, trying to ground myself in the moment.

He seems to understand, so he closes the door and hops in his side of the cab. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

I try to tell him everything that just happened with my sister, but nothing comes out when I move my lips. It’s like I’ve lost all the air from my lungs and it’s everything I can do to just exist right now. “Later.” I’m finally able to force the word out.

“Okay.” He puts the truck in gear and pulls us out of the parking space, taking us further away from the prison with each turn of the tires. It’s a fitting reminder of the line she drew in the sand and the growing distance between me and my sister.