Redeemed Love

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Redeemed Love Page 23

by M. S. Brannon


  We ride a couple more blocks in silence when Zoe demands, “Okay, spill it.”

  My body jolts at the sound of her voice. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Chances are, I’ve been right where you’re sitting.” I doubt that. Unless your ex-boyfriend is a drug lord’s assassin, sent to prison to free himself from the life, only to reappear out of the blue at your work. What’s more, now you have their child, who they know nothing about. Oh, and said father could possibly be a threat to both of you. Yeah… I highly doubt Zoe knows what I’m talking about. “I know that look very well, honey. And speaking from a lot of experience with difficult men, I know that look on your face can only be put there by a guy. What happened?”

  I take a deep breath and think of something to change the subject, but I can’t. I can’t think of anything except Jeremy. It’s all-consuming and killing me. I can’t say too much, but I need to say something before I crumble into pieces.

  “Hunter’s daddy came back into the picture a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I knew it. Where’s he been?” Zoe pulls onto the street of the hospital and quickly into a parking space. She throws the car into park then turns her body to me.

  She is probably one of the nicest people I’ve met in a really long time. I don’t have any friends, and I can safely say Zoe is becoming one of those even though I hardly know her. I feel comfortable with her, but why?

  “I’m a bartender,” Zoe interjects between my thoughts, answering as if she was reading my mind. “Listening to people is a skill of mine. Fire away.”

  “Don’t people usually have liquid courage to help them exhume their inner feelings?” I ask and Zoe smiles at my quip.

  “My apartment is right over there,” Zoe points out the window. “I can fix you a mean Bloody Mary or Mimosa, or you can have a shot of tequila. That’s my go-to drink for oncoming emotional breakdowns.” I laugh at Zoe’s comments and breathe a sigh of relief. She really is a great person.

  “I guess I’m freaking out because Hunter’s dad is back in town. He has no idea Hunter even exists and same goes for Hunter—he doesn’t know his dad. He only has a picture of him, but that’s really it. We don’t talk about him that much.”

  “Where has he been? I mean, Hunter is like four, isn’t he?”

  “He will be three and a half soon.”

  I cannot tell her where Jeremy’s been and why he hasn’t been in Hunter’s life. It’s a secret I can’t expose to anyone. Yet, it’s a secret for what? It’s a matter of public record. Anyone can look it up on the internet.

  I start to open my mouth about Jeremy’s time in prison when Zoe makes a weird face then pulls out her cell phone. She looks at the text message on the screen, and then she smiles before stashing it back into her purse. “My boyfriend, he’s being perverted.”

  “Well, if I need to let you go…” I say, thinking how nice it would be to receive messages like that from Jeremy. Or feel him again. Or kiss him again. Or just be in his presence again. Oh, how nice that would be.

  “Nah, he’s at work. I only really see him on the weekends or right before I go into work. I take his daughter, Mia, to daycare in the morning and sometimes I pick her up.” Zoe pulls up her phone and shows me a picture of her boyfriend and his daughter. When I look at Mia, I recognize something about her immediately. She is very cute and looks to be a couple years older than Hunter. Tight, curly, dark brown hair and a big smile, but it’s her eyes. They are very unique. They look like the color of honey, maybe a little darker, mesmerizing.

  Then I look to her boyfriend. He, too, looks very familiar. He is sporting a big, illuminating smile. He is very good looking and has deep brown eyes. His skin tone is almost the same color as mine. Where have I seen him? I know I’ve seen him before, but where? Maybe we went to school in Butler together? I just don’t recall.

  “What’s his name?” I ask, hoping I will recognize him.

  “Drake,” Zoe says with a bout of pride, and my gut drops to the floor.

  “Is his last name Evans?” I ask as I pray a hole will open up and swallow me.

  “Yes. Do you know him?” Zoe’s smile is big across her face.

  What do I say? Do I tell her the truth and spill my involvement with his brother? Do I tell her I know what happened to Drake and Jeremy, and why he really went to prison? I am panicking. My brain is scattering every question and decent response. I’m finding it impossible to grasp a single answer.

  Zoe is staring at me, waiting for a reply, so I blurt something out, “Oh, those Evans brothers. They have quite a reputation. I used to go to the races back in the day.”

  “I haven’t been to the races, but of course it would be hard when the only brother who drove has been gone.” Zoe’s face drops and so does mine. She’s thinking of Jeremy and what he’s done to their family.

  I attempt to change the subject. “How did you guys meet?”

  “At the bar I work at. His older brother owns it—The Slab. Have you been there?” I shake my head no and try to gather my emotions. However, all I can feel is panic and more panic. I need to get out of here. I need to get out of this car. I’m about to say something I can’t take back. I’ve got to leave, and like, now. I’m glad she has no clue who I am, but I don’t want her catching on because I may say too much.

  I look down at my watch and pretend I’m running late. “Oh, shoot. I’ve got to get going. Thanks again for the ride.”

  I wave Zoe off and walk briskly to the building as I try to wrap my brain around everything she just told me. She is dating Drake, who once was involved with Presley, who was killed by Carter, Jeremy’s accomplice in the underworld, the very same Jeremy who is the father of my son. I pinch the crucifix around my neck and call upon my faith. I need to have faith right now. I need something familiar and stable in my life.

  As I walk into the building, I look to the clock above the elevators. I have twenty minutes before my shift starts. I abandon the elevators, bumping into an old man in the process.

  “Sorry,” I say as I round the corner and head to the chapel.

  When I walk into the room, it’s vacant. I move to the left and spot the candles set up for prayer. Two dozen red, glass votive holders are tiered, leading up to the cross. I find long, match sticks and strike one, causing the flame to come to life. I then reach forward and select the candle in the back corner, tipping the match down and lighting it. As the flame touches the wick, the orange and yellow light begins to dance. I blow out the matchstick and kneel down on the prayer bench. With my fingertips, I cross myself and look to God for guidance. I stare at the cross, trying to find the words as I begin to cry.

  “Please, Lord. I don’t know what to do. I love him so much I can’t think of anything else, but can I be with him? Should I be with him? I want him to be in my life and Hunter’s, but at what risk? Is he changed? Please help him, Lord. Please, help Jeremy find who he really is.” I finish by reciting the Lord’s Prayer and stand from the bench. I cross myself again and look to the prayer lit up in the candle, hoping the power of it will reach Jeremy and protect him.

  I haven’t fallen asleep since my life changing drive on Old Miller’s Road. I’m too excited for the possibilities I have in life, and I’m ready to start owning up to my mistakes. The journey won’t be easy, but I have to try and try again. Nothing in this life is ever easy. I only wish I learned this lesson earlier in life.

  I pull the Challenger into the back of the garage and head to the apartment. I need to shower and change before my meeting with my parole officer in a couple of hours. As I walk into the kitchen, Jake is dressed for a day in the garage and speaking on the phone.

  “What do you mean, you quit? Way to leave me high and dry, you stupid fuck! And don’t even think about coming back!” He slams the phone on the table and kicks the chair. “Fuck!”

  Delilah comes running into the room. “What’s wrong?”

  “Joe quit! I can’t believe that stupid fucker
. After the chance I gave him, not to mention the money. I was paying him better than anyone.”

  Delilah runs her hand over his back, trying to calm him down, but he is still raging mad. “Just go find someone else, Jake. It’s no use getting all worked up over something you can’t change.”

  “Yeah… okay, cupcake.” The sound of sarcasm exudes from his tone. Delilah swats him on the back and he glares at her. “How the hell am I supposed to find a mechanic in twenty minutes? Are you going to do it?” Delilah looks to me then back to Jake. “We have a full load today, and I can’t do all the work my fucking self.”

  I’m watching my hot-headed brother fume, and the sight makes me smile. This is exactly what I was remembering when I was sitting in my car. Jake is irrational and slightly unstable, I love this about him. Delilah is so good for him; I know she can calm him down in ways no one else can. Even so, I’m glad to see their true behavior is as fiery as it was when she first came into his life.

  I can feel the smile on my face. It’s just as big as it was before. The feeling of happiness in my gut makes me laugh. I can’t help myself. After my revelation this morning and seeing my brother just as I remember him, it makes me laugh. As I belt out a loud, gut-splitting laugh, Jake looks over to me like I’ve lost my damn mind, and maybe I have, but that doesn’t stop me from cracking up.

  “What’s so funny, douche bag?” Jake glares at me, and I laugh even harder when he calls me a douche bag. I’m not sure why this is funny to me, either.

  “You,” I spout between taking a deep breath and laughing. “You’re just so… you.”

  I have no words. He is just as perfect as I remember him, and I don’t want to lose this. I want us to have the witty banter back and forth. I want us to be somewhat of the way we were before all the crap destroyed our family. I want to have him back. I want all of my brothers back. And I will do it one person at a time.

  While I wipe the tears from my eyes and walk to Jake, he still looks like he wants to kill me, yet I break the ice and clap him on the back. “I’ll help you, brother.”

  When his eyes widen out of surprise and shock, I only look at my twin and smile. He is trying to hold back his happy reaction.

  As soon as I think that, Jake’s big smile spreads across his face. “You stupid fucker.” Jake pulls me into a hug. It’s the manly, one arm hug, but it’s a peace offering between us.

  I step back and walk to the fridge, hunting for something to eat as Jake asks, “Are you serious about working in the garage? Since I opened the shop, I’ve always wanted you working beside me. But when you ignored my letters and visits, I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me. The job is yours, though. It’s always been yours.”

  “Of course I’m serious.” I just couldn’t see you or anyone while I was in there, I think to myself. “I had to be someone else when I was in prison. And if I saw my family, it would be too hard to be that person.” As I spout off the partial truth, I pull out the milk and walk to the cupboard, getting a box of cereal from the shelf. I pour the Lucky Charms into my bowl and dump milk over the top. Then I remember. “I need to meet with my parole officer first, then I will help out.”

  Jake looks to Delilah and then back to me. Of course it’s a business decisions he’s going to have to consider. You know, paying an ex-con to work in the garage. It could be bad for his business what with everyone knowing what happened to me. She smiles as she sweeps tears from her cheeks then nods her head to Jake. “Okay, let’s do this. Like I said earlier, this is what I wanted from the moment I opened the shop.”

  I nod my head to him and remember the hours we’d spend daydreaming about running our own shop. It makes me smile and gives me a little more hope for the future. “Me, too,” I admit then head back to my room to get ready for the day.

  ***

  When I knock on my parole officer’s door, he shouts from the other side to come in. I walk through the door and see my PO, Amos Conklin, standing up at his filing cabinet.

  He is an extremely large, muscular man. I could tell immediately he’s been around the block a time or two; I wouldn’t fuck with him. He stands a good half foot taller than my six-foot-two-inch frame and the don’t fuck with me look pierces me from his black eyes. Amos has skin as dark as midnight, hair cut close to his scalp, and his biceps are the size of cantaloupes. I would put money this guy is ex-military.

  “Nice to see you’re back, Evans.” The boom of his deep voice demands respect.

  “Ah, yeah.” It’s all I can say because I’m confused by why he would think I wouldn’t come back.

  When we met last week, I was less than enthused. The thought of being on probation for five years has pissed me off. This means I’m not allowed to leave the state, will be subjected to meetings every week, surprise visits, not to mention, if I get caught fighting, I will be sent back to I-Max.

  Our first meeting wasn’t special. Basically, Amos went through the rules and scowled at me the entire time.

  “Now for the rules,” Amos had barked from behind his desk. “First, you are expected to get a job within thirty days of your release. I will be dropping by unexpectedly to make sure you are complying with this. I will be talking to your employers as well. Second, keep your head clean. The best way to keep me off your back is to stay far away from your past as much as possible. If I find out you’re dealing, fighting, doing drugs, fucking prostitutes, or any other illegal activity, you’re gone. Finally, respect me and my job and you’ll have that in return. The more you abide by my rules, the easier this will be for you. However, if I catch you violating any rules, you’ll be on the first bus to I-Max to spend another three years locked up.” It was all he said before he dismissed me from his office. The meeting took all of five minutes, which leads me to wonder what today’s meeting will hold.

  “Sit down, son.” Amos points to the chair on the opposite side of his desk as he sits in his large, leather seat. “So, what’s new that you have to report?”

  “I’m staying with my brother, but I guess you already know that.” I rack my brain. Cami comes into my mind just as fast as any other thought. The last time I was in a meeting with him, I had just seen Cami. I was mourning her absence in my life; in fact, I still am. I love her. I have known this for many years, however I have to accept the fact that she’s moved on and is happy.

  “How’s the job hunting going? Did you check out the places I gave you?” I remember looking at the list of jobs and one in particular stood out. The posting was for a line operator at the steel recycling factory where Drake works. It was the best paying job out of all of them, and let’s be honest, an ex-con can barely get a job anywhere. While I was panicked at the thought of working with Drake while he’s so angry, I would’ve been an idiot if I didn’t take the job. That is, until this morning when Jake accepted me to work for him.

  “My brother is offering me a job in his shop as a mechanic to replace a guy who quit this morning.”

  “Do you know about cars?” Amos pulls his notepad on his lap, taking down notes. I was intimidated by him at first because I knew he’s been on the other side of the law at points in his life. I’m sure he could kill me before I could get out of this chair. However, now, I’m comfortable with him. He understands me and what I’m going through. I am assuming all of this since he has never disclosed any of this information to me. Yet, there is something about his character that tells me he was once in my shoes.

  “Yeah, they’ve been a passion of mine for as long as I can remember.”

  “What’s your favorite car?”

  “The one I have now, a 1972 Dodge Challenger. It was my dad’s car, and he left it to me and my twin brother before he died.”

  “Now that’s a classic car. Probably one my favorite cars to drive is 1970 Pontiac GTO, though. When I was a kid, I dreamed about being a race car driver. The stock cars driving around the track fascinated me.” He smiles slightly then resumes his stone-cold, serious face.

  I find his story ki
nd of interesting because I could put him in a car and show him how to race. We could break the law and go drag racing on Old Miller’s Road. Nevertheless, I don’t want to go back to prison, so I keep my mouth shut and simply nod my head.

  We finish up our meeting with him telling me he will be randomly stopping by Jake’s shop to see what I’m up to. I then shake his hand, complete my drug test, and walk from the building.

  When I arrive at my car, I get a bout of excitement knowing I will be working side by side with my twin brother again. I wonder if it will be like it was before; Jake barking orders and me mindlessly working away, ignoring him. Man, I hope it is. The times we’ve spent in the garage are some of my best memories. Hopefully, I can create more of them.

  When I was in my Jeremy induced trance a few weeks ago, I decided I needed time to clear my head. My emotions and sleepless nights have weighed on my conscience. I have guilt in my heart for not telling Jeremy he has a son, yet I’m scared of what his reaction might be. The constant back and forth in my brain was hindering my ability to do anything. I needed time away to figure out how or if I was going to tell Jeremy about Hunter.

  Luckily, I realized at work one day how much vacation time I’ve built up from the last couple of years. Then it dawned on me that I have never voluntarily taken time off since I started working at the hospital. I overheard Dixie, the older nurse who works in my department, say she had no vacation to roll over to this year. This got me thinking. I’ve worked here since Hunter was a newborn, three years, and I’ve never used my vacation time.

  I dug through my purse, finding my pay stub from last week, noticing I have nearly six weeks of vacation time. The only time I’ve missed work is when Hunter was ill and they ate up my six days of sick leave, but I never had to use any vacation days while I was out. This prompted me to walk to my supervisor’s office and request two weeks off. I told her I didn’t care when, but it needed to be sooner rather than later. She was less than happy but granted me time at the end of the month.

 

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