Neither spoke. They clung together, revelling in the warmth and closeness of each other.
Julie pulled away then reached up and held Robert's face. "You took a chance and made love to me. And how did I repay you? By turning away."
Her voice cracked with a sob as she struggled to continue speaking. "I'm the one at fault. You've been ripping yourself apart because you thought I was angry. I was scared. You opened up feelings that I wasn't ready to deal with. You misinterpreted my confusion. I don't deserve it, but I beg for your forgiveness."
Robert placed his hands behind her head and pulled her face closer to his. Waves of frustrated passion consumed both of them. While their lips met hungrily, their hands roamed each other's bodies, remembering the curves and sensations. Julie's hand ran up the side of Robert's stomach. He grimaced in pain and leaned away from her. "Well that snaps ya back to reality, don't it?" He chuckled. "There are better ways of gettin' me to stop kissin' ya."
Julie leaned back and lifted her hands into the air. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
"I'm ok. Ya just hit the worse cut."
She calmed her breathing. "I watched it on TV."
"Watched what?"
"The fight."
His eyebrows rose. "My fight?"
"No, the world heavyweight championship."
"That, I could understand. How'd ya watch me fight?"
"CBHY had a news reporter and cameraman on the scene."
Robert rubbed his forehead. "Ya saw the whole thing?"
"I didn't see you fight Juan and the other guy, but I watched you fight Marco. Didn't Paul tell you?"
Robert shook his head and lay back on the bed.
Julie sat closer. "They probably have a copy at the station. I could get it for you."
"I'm not sure I wanna watch myself get beat up." He grimaced and placed his hand on one of his injuries. "'Sides I fought the wrong battle. Between this and school…."
"You've missed a lot, but you can get caught up."
Robert looked down at the bed and picked at the sheet. "I won't be goin' back to Westland. I dropped out. They're comin' to take me to the prison infirmary."
The sadness in his voice brought tears to Julie's eyes. She sniffed. "Why did you quit? You were doing great. You got an eighty-something in English. You beat me in bio. Sorry, I don't know what you got in calculus."
"I aced it. Ross tweeted me my mark."
Julie gasped. "You wrote a perfect calculus exam and you're quitting school?"
"I don't wanna go no more. They sent me to Westland to try and show me what the rest of the world looked like. So I'd get out of Shore. They didn't bother asking anybody if they minded me going there. I'd rather go back to a cell than put up with the shit."
She reached for his hand and interlaced her fingers with his. "Can't you change your mind?"
An announcement stating afternoon visiting hours were over interrupted their conversation. Julie lifted his hand to her lips and kissed him. "I'll be back at seven. I promise."
"Don't know if I'll still be here."
"Rip a stitch or something." She hopped off the bed and hurried to the cafeteria. Julie slid into a seat next to Paul and looked at her mother. "We've got a big problem. I think he'd rather go to prison than go back to school."
Mrs. Anderson frowned. "Paul, are you available tonight?"
"To help Robert, anytime."
"Be at the house in thirty-five, forty minutes. Come along, Julie." She handed her daughter the car keys. "You drive. I have a bunch of phone calls to make."
***
At 6 o'clock, Mrs. Anderson glanced around her dining room table. Seated at the opposite end of the table was her husband. She smiled at him and nodded. He cleared his throat. "Thank you all for coming. Quick introductions. A friend of Robert's, Paul…I'm sorry I don't know your last name."
"Paul is fine."
"Next to him is Emily Murran and Carl, Robert's boss. And my daughter, Julie." He nodded to the people seated on his right. "Mr. Morris, the principal of Westland Prep, James Colins, Robert's parole officer and Cordelia Paulin, head of the Westland parent teacher committee."
Most people smiled and nodded greetings to each other. Cordelia and James did not make eye contact with anyone.
Mrs. Anderson pointed to the food on the table. "This is informal. There are sandwiches and veggies. Coffee and tea. Help yourselves. We have a problem to solve. The connection to all of you is Robert. Right now, he's in Mercy General feeling depressed and not thinking clearly. I think we can all agree he's been through a lot in the past few weeks. Whether we think what he has done is good or bad, we can discuss later."
She accepted the tray of sandwiches from Julie, placed two on her plate and handed the tray to Francine's mother. "As I understand it, a deal was arranged where Robert must serve either a prison term or finish school. With a little political influence and monetary support from Mrs. Murran, he was transferred to Westland Prep as an attempt to get him away from the Shoresmen. Any major disagreements?"
No one spoke. Mr. Anderson swallowed his bite of sandwich. "Robert dropped out of Westland and quit his job citing his inability to attend regularly. He made these choices. Neither were thrust upon him. He knew if he quit school, he'd be sent back to jail to finish his sentence. He's made what appears to be a mature, logical choice. Mind you, his reasons are all wrong."
"He quit Westland because he's tired of trying not to make a mistake." Julie bit her lip to steel her nerves. "And because he and I…it turns outs a broken heart hurts even if you are a notorious gang leader."
"His true reason for quitting is that he can't leave the gang." Mrs. Murran glanced around the table. "He's tied to it with bonds that are almost stronger than blood. We probably all saw the fight last Friday. While terrifying in its violence, he should be commended for his bravery and loyalty to his gang."
She grimaced. "I'm afraid our feeble attempts to separate him from that gang have failed, and it's making him choose between an education and prison. Which is better, we let this kid go to prison and forget him because he's garbage?" She winced at saying the word. "Or we try and come up with something that will keep him in school, and somehow take the pressure off?"
As his principal, I've seen both sides of Robert." Mr. Morris shook his head. "Sending him to prison now makes it look like he's being punished because he failed to make it as a Westlander."
Mrs. Paulin slammed her coffee mug on the table. "He's a convicted killer. He killed my son."
"No, he didn't. I did." Paul met Julie's gaze.
Julie swallowed the gasp that tried to escape her. He's innocent. She looked at her mother. Her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide.
Paul played with his fork as he spoke. "It was Robert who got into trouble. I jumped Jeffery to help him. Somehow…the knife just…. Robert knew I wouldn't survive Hawthorne, and he'd go anywhere to get away from Mike's beatings. He's had to tell the story so often that he's probably forgotten what really happened." He heaved a big sigh. "Or he's still tryin' to protect me."
Mrs. Anderson continued, "Emily, you said that you trust Robert to look after the ranch whenever Carl is away, right?"
Mrs. Murran nodded.
"Is this a person who can run such a big operation someone we should brush under a rug and forget?"
Mrs. Paulin sniffed. "You're making him sound like a saint."
Paul spoke in a low voice. "I've seen him party. He ain't no saint."
"To prove this is not all rhetoric, my husband and I are prepared to let Robert live here, rent free."
"Sandra?" gasped Mrs. Paulin. "What about your other children?"
"The kid I passed judgement on in my court isn't the same one who's lying in a hospital bed," said Mr. Anderson. "I strongly believe that this is a case where the offender has learned from his mistakes. Needless to say, I was unimpressed when I found out he liked my daughter, but his honesty and straight-forwardness have changed my opinion. I have no
reservations about letting him stay here."
Julie's father rubbed his forehead. "Let me give you an example. Sandra wanted the garage painted—"
"We." Julie's mother pointed between herself and her husband.
He chuckled. "I stand corrected. We wanted the garage painted and I just kept forgetting to call a painter. After a particularly rough day in court, I was standing in our driveway staring at the garage berating myself for having forgotten to call for the umpteenth time. Robert pulls up beside me. He asked what was wrong. As we walked in to the house, I explained."
Mr. Anderson reached for his drink and swallowed a mouthful. "Next day I arrived home." He sighed. "Even more tired. It was a bad case. Anyway, I pulled into my driveway and looked up, and there's the garage freshly painted. Robert and Paul." He nodded in Paul's direction. "And two other Shoresmen, Pete and Franklin?"
Paul nodded.
"The four of them were seating on my driveway, drinking beers and eating pizza."
Paul snorted. "Robert bet us you'd notice before ya got out of your car."
"He wouldn't let me pay him for the paint or the pizza." Mr. Anderson smiled at Paul. "And none of his friends would take any money."
"Robert don't ask for help much, and we knew this was important. It was bros helpin' bros and ya don't do that for money."
With a sigh of defeated disgust, Francine's mother excused herself and left.
"Mr. Morris, if we can get him back in to school, can he still get his credits?" asked Julie's mother.
"I can explain the attendance situation to the board and recommend they overrule the compulsory number of days requirement. There is a clause for exceptional situations."
"Mr. Colins, if Robert registers, can he go back to the original deal?"
He lifted his glasses off his nose and rubbed it. "I'm not sure. I think he's already being transferred to the prison infirmary."
"Well untransfer him." Mrs. Murran placed her teacup on the table.
"That takes time and paperwork."
"Anything is possible with the snap of one's fingers," she said.
"Well snap away. Personally, I don't think he's worth it. I just got handed this case. This guy has a record the length of my arm. And it gets pretty ugly."
"Guess I go snap my fingers." Mrs. Murran dug her cell phone out of her purse and exited the dining room.
Mr. Colins checked his watch. "Snap away. There's little to be done. Visiting hours are over."
"What!" Julie looked at the clock on the sideboard. Damn. I promised him. Now he's going to think I don't care.
"My turn to snap fingers." Mr. Anderson pushed back his chair and headed towards the kitchen.
"Success." Mrs. Murran settled herself back in her seat. "They are turning around and returning him to the hospital as we speak. Warden Klepsky is such a delightful gentleman."
***
Mr. Anderson walked in. "They won't let us on the floor. Too many of us. So they're opening a conference room. Let's go."
"Stop." Julie stood. "We can't go in there all gung ho. Robert doesn't trust us. He claims I live in a fairy tale. As I see it, we charge in with this great idea, he accepts it and from that moment on, he's destined for sainthood. In reality, we charge in, we give him the idea and he tells us where to go."
"She's right," said Paul. "Whatever ya do, don't let him think this is some sorta charity or pity. He won't do it. He'd rather rot in prison. He's made it this far on his own, and is way too proud to accept charity."
"Now what do we do?" Mrs. Anderson looked at the confused faces.
Chapter Sixteen
When Julie and the group arrived at the hospital, Admittance said Robert hadn't returned and directed them to the conference room. Two prison officers entered with Robert between them. They stepped nearer the door, leaving Robert facing the crowd. "Like what is this, the g'bye party?" He raised his handcuffed hands to scratch his cheek.
"Have a seat. We'd like to talk to you," Mrs. Anderson pointed to a chair.
He stood with his weight resting on one hip and didn't make eye contact. "Just say your damn good-byes and let me the fuck outta here."
Paul grabbed Robert's shirt and pushed him onto a chair. "The lady asked ya, real nice like, to sit. So sit."
"Chill, bro."
Paul kicked Robert's foot. "Cut the gang talk crap. Talk right."
Mr. Anderson cleared his throat. "Robert, we talked to Mr. Colins and he said if you—"
"Let me guess.” Robert slouched low in the chair with his legs out stretched. "If I go back to school, I don't go to prison. Forget it. I'd rather do the time." He cast an angry glance at Julie, then stared at his shoes.
Carl walked from the back of the room, stood next to Robert and cuffed him across of the back of his head.
Robert snapped a dark stare at him.
"Now that I have your attention." Carl stayed inside Robert's personal space and glared at him. "Has nothing I ever said to you sunk in? Big, tough, cool bastard. Look at the stupid mess you got yourself into this time."
Robert was silent for a moment, his gaze locked onto Carl's. "I tried to live up to the standards of the high'n mighty, Carl. No way some punk garbage from Shore’s good enough. Just send me back to prison. I deserve it."
"What you need is a swift kick in the ass."
Robert swallowed the urge to jump up and punch Carl in the face. Instead, he shifted in his seat. Carl paced back and forth in front of him. "You're always trying to prove yourself by taking on the world. You don't have to prove yourself to anyone but you. These people are here 'cause they want to help.”
He stopped and rested a hand on Robert's shoulder. "You're probably depressed. Especially considering what you've been through lately. If you were totally clearheaded, you wouldn't be making all these stupid decisions. Trust us and go back to school."
"Robert, let me explain it this way." Paul moved closer as Carl stepped aside. "If ya say no, I'm gonna distract those two officers into the hall and let these people pound the shit out of ya."
"And I get the first punch." Mrs. Murran rested her hands on her hips.
Cold, frustrated anger filled his body. He wanted to jump up and scream that no one was listening to him. He'd messed up. Making love to Julie had been the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Prison was the best place for him. He inhaled a deep breath. "What's wrong with me doin' time? I know it ain't no picnic, but I do it, I get out and I get on with my life."
Mr. Morris stepped forward. "You're an intelligent person. You could go to college, get a degree then get a good job."
Robert spit out a sarcastic laugh. "Doin' what? I already got a criminal record. Who's gonna hire an ex-con? I get some stupid diploma and the world’s supposedly at my feet. I'm stuck in Shore. Dead end person in a dead end town."
Julie squatted in front of Robert, slipped under his handcuffs and into his arms. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." Trembling, she leaned against his knee to steady herself. "I hurt you. I know I did." Her voice cracked. "I'm the reason you went back to Shore and the gang." She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. "I don't want to be the reason you go to jail."
Robert opened his mouth to speak. Julie placed a finger on his lips. "No, let me talk. With all the bad things that happened in your life, I was supposed to be the good thing. The ray of sunshine. And I broke that…that.…" Tears flowed down her cheeks as she sniffed. "Please stay. Let me love you again." She rested her cheek on his jeans. "Don't go. I need you." Her body shook as she softly cried against his lap.
Every tremble of Julie's body was a hot stab to Robert's soul. He knew he loved her, but he didn't know why he couldn't tell her. His body screamed for Julie to hold him and let him drop the tough guy image, so he could release the demons that tormented him. Go back. You get a coupla more months to be with her, before she goes to college and you go to Shore. Don't be stupid. He shifted his hand so he could lift Julie's chin. "I'll go back," Needing to kiss her more than he needed air
, he struggled with the handcuffs.
Mr. Colins motioned to the guards, and they unlocked the cuffs then followed the probation officer out of the room.
Robert wrapped his arms around Julie. A shudder passed through him from the touch of her pressed against him. Calming herself, Julie wiped her eyes and smiled. "What your mouth can't say, your body does."
He released her and glanced at the silent group. "I'll go back to school." He fought back the grimace and kept his face neutral. A soft cheer went around the group as everyone congratulated everyone else for a job well done. Robert snorted.
"What?" Julie ran her fingers through his hair.
"They don't understand that my finishin' Westland ain’t gonna change what I am. I ain't suddenly gonna turn into some saint." Robert stood, staggered and grabbed his side.
"I think I should take you up to your room. A little too much excitement for one day." She offered her shoulder for support.
Robert leaned on her and walked out of the room. Once in the hall, he straightened and walked next to her.
"Hey, what's up?" She stopped and rested her hands on her hips.
"I needed to get out of there and fakin' sick was the best way." He snickered. “Actually, I feel pretty good most of the time. Hospitals have great meds.”
"Mr. Holiday." A stern voice floated down the hallway.
"Crap, it's the nurse." Behind the rattle of a wheelchair stood a nurse in a light blue uniform, who pointed at the seat. Robert sighed as he plopped onto the wheelchair.
Julie bent low and kissed his cheek. "I'll be back tomorrow. I promise."
The nurse turned and headed toward the elevator. Robert shifted around and waved as Julie returned to the conference room.
“Is he all right?” Her mother handed Julie her coat.
Slipping in it, Julie replied, “He's worried he can't live up to our expectations."
"That young man is capable of more things than even he can imagine. We gave him a push. Now he'll take off."
Her father stepped beside his wife. “Mission accomplished. Let’s go home.”
***
Sunday afternoon, Julie drove over to the hospital with the biology work Robert missed. She spent the afternoon explaining and helping Robert get caught up. "Can you do the rest on your own? I have an extra practice tonight. My audition’s next week."
Dancing in Circles (Circles Trilogy) Page 19
