I walked to the back to see a teeny kitchen – a stove with two eyes, a small sink, and refrigerator. The bathroom had a toilet and a standup shower, but no sink. I guess since the kitchen sink was only two feet away, there wasn’t need for another.
A sticky note on a device in the kitchen informed me it was a smoke and carbon monoxide detector, and that there was another upstairs.
Another door housed a tiny pantry, across from a closet big enough for a washer and dryer stacked on top of each other.
And that was it downstairs.
I made sure the front door was locked, and noted another sticky note as I turned around — this one pointing out there was storage space inside the modular loveseat.
Someone had decorated the downstairs in a variety of tan shades. There was no color, but I figured that meant I could add color when I had money – pillows, curtains, and maybe a throw rug.
I climbed the ladder and was happy to see a queen bed, a small closet, and a little bookshelf with a table lamp beside the bed. The bed was made – more shades of tan – and I breathed in relief I wouldn’t have to put sheets on before I could fall into bed. I stripped out of my clothes, hung them in the closet, and went back downstairs to shower. Darius had sent me jeans, a shirt, and underwear to get home in. Thankfully, they let me keep the shoes the prison had assigned me. I didn’t have any other clothes, so I’d have to wear these again the next day. I didn’t have anything to sleep in, but it’d been a long time since I’d slept naked and I looked forward to it. I washed my panties out in the sink before I got in the shower. If they weren’t dry by morning, I’d toss them in the dryer.
Darnell had told me I’d never have access to his house, and seeing the washer and dryer drove home the fact he wanted me out here and not in his home. He didn’t even want me borrowing his laundry room.
I’m a felon, and he owns guns. I can’t have access to weapons, and I knew Darnell well enough to know he’d never get rid of his guns.
I texted Darius to tell him I was in my new house. He called me back and I smiled when I heard his voice.
“Glad you made it safely. Hailey and I’ll pick you up at nine so we can eat breakfast before the stores open.”
I went to sleep easier than I expected, and awoke with a start to the alarm on my phone. Darnell had talked me through setting it and choosing the alarm sound, but I still had to sit and let my heart quiet down a few minutes before I could get up.
I’d ignored all the complicated instructions printed out on my table the night before, but this morning I sat and went through the steps to hook my phone up to Darnell’s wireless internet signal. He’d said I could do as much on the internet as I want when I’m on it, but I have to be careful how much data I use when I’m away from home.
Home. I looked around at my tiny little house in the daylight and smiled. It might be tiny, but it was my own personal space. It was more than enough — and more than I deserved. If Darnell hadn’t stepped forward, I’d be in a rat infested half-way house somewhere.
This was brand new, and cute, and if not mine because I’d earned it — it was mine to use as long as I proved myself trustworthy.
I locked my door and was waiting on my front porch when Darius and Hailey pulled into Darnell’s driveway. I’d seen pictures of Hailey but hadn’t met her in person yet, and I was surprised when she hugged me, but I hugged her back.
“It’s so good to finally meet you, Ms. Cook.”
“Call me Keisha,” I told her. “It’s good to meet you too.”
She was dressed in long sleeves and pants, and wore thin gloves. She also wore a wide brimmed hat and huge dark sunglasses.
“Hailey’s sensitive to the sun,” Darius told me when he saw me looking at her sleeves. “We’ll be eating breakfast in a restaurant with tables in the rear away from windows.”
I protested when they wanted me to sit up front, but Hailey told me the back windows were tinted and helped her stay out of the sun.
I think Hailey had a list of conversation topics in her head, because every time there was more than a few seconds of silence, she asked another question. How was the drive home, how did I like my house, and was there somewhere I wanted to eat for lunch? We talked about the weather, the traffic, and a dozen other meaningless conversations because no one dared talk about the important stuff.
Once we’d placed our orders, Hailey told me we’d start at the mall, but I shook my head. “I’d like to start at a Goodwill or Salvation Army first, if you don’t mind. It may be a couple of months before I can get my license and start working.”
Hailey opened her mouth to argue, but Darius put his hand on hers and said, “Okay, mom. We’ll see what you can find at the secondhand places.”
“I got a North Carolina ID card before I was released, but it won’t let me get a library card. Maybe you can take me to a used bookstore, too?”
“I’ll have to introduce you to ebooks,” Hailey said with a smile, “but yes, we can take you to a used bookstore.”
“Give Hailey your phone and she’ll install an app for you.”
Now, we had something interesting to talk about, and Darius sat back with a smile as Hailey and I talked about our favorite authors, and she told me there’s a lending feature so she can lend ebooks she’s bought. She did it while we were talking, and I read the first half-page of a book while we ate. I clicked the screen off and put my phone down as I thanked her again.
“Don’t mention it. You have a few weeks with not a lot to do until you start working. I’ll keep you in books.”
The next couple of days were both wonderful and awful. I was alone in my house, or on my porch, or walking in the forest behind Darnell’s house. It wasn’t like solitary in prison because I had the television, the books on my phone, and a kitchen with good food I could eat whenever I wanted… but it was still pretty damned lonely. I heard Darnell come and go, but he didn’t stop by my little house to see me, so I didn’t go to him either.
My parole officer had given me stuff to fill out, and Darius had picked it up and returned it to him the next day, but I’d only seen my son a few minutes.
I found the sticky notes and pens in the little fold-up desk in my tiny living room, and I wrote, “You said I could drive one of your motorcycles when I start work. I’ll need a drivers license. Can you take me, or should I ask Darius?”
I put it on his front door, and that evening he walked over to talk to me.
“You can text me shit like that, Keisha. We don’t use pens and paper much anymore.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just lettin’ you know.” He sat in one of the chairs on my porch and pulled out his phone. “Let’s make an appointment for you.”
He walked me through making the appointment online, and checked his schedule to make sure he could take me. He even emailed me something to study so I’d be able to pass the written part of the test. “Darius will take you to let you practice on my motorcycle. He’ll get mine when he picks you up, and will take you to an old abandoned factory outside town. It won’t be illegal for you to ride in the parking lot.”
“Is there something I can do to thank you? I can’t clean your house because I can’t be in it, but I can cook you dinner. I know you don’t want to eat with me, but I can cook it for you and hand it to you, so you can take it to your house to eat.”
He shook his head. “Don’t want anything from you. Just need to know you’re safe, and that you have a chance at making a life for yourself.” He looked through the window, into my living room, and met my gaze. “Are you getting settled in okay? I kept some of your things, stored them for you, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much.”
My heart jumped into my throat as I asked, “Pictures?”
“Yeah, and the stuff that had belonged to your parents, and what I knew was special from your granny. I couldn’t keep the furniture or the big stuff, but I did what I could.”
My dad had been a firefighter, a
nd he’d died putting out a warehouse fire when my mom was pregnant with me. My mother had died a week after she brought me home from the hospital. Something inside her had hemorrhaged, and she’d bled internally. My mom’s parents were my only family. They raised me, and my grandfather had died when I was twelve.
“Thanks. I’d assumed you got rid of everything. I’m indebted to you for storing it for me.”
He stood and shook his head. “It’s in my attic. I’ll get it down in the next couple of days. If you aren’t home, I’ll put it in your living room. It’s all in two large plastic containers.”
I wasn’t sure I was up to actually looking through the pictures, but I was glad to have them.
I was uncomfortable at first, on the back of Darnell’s bike, holding onto Darius’s waist while he drove.
The last time I’d been on the back of a motorcycle, my arms had been around Darnell and it hadn’t been long since we’d had sex.
It wasn’t long before I leaned with Darius, though. He was as skilled on a bike as his dad.
It took a little longer for me to get the hang of driving again, but after half an hour of riding around the parking lot, I thought I’d be able to pass the test.
“Can we talk?” I asked Darius before he put his helmet on to drive me home. “You couldn’t talk about your wolf while I was in prison because you never know when someone might be listening, but I guessed enough from what you told me — I know you had it hard in foster care, and can guess why you had to run away the one night, but came back the next day.”
He sighed. “It was a long time ago, mom. You’ve more than paid for it. Being pissed at you over it won’t do either of us any good.”
“I failed you. I’m your mom, and I failed you.” I’d learned not to cry in prison — learned how to hold everything in — and I turned away from my son as I realized I should look emotional, but didn’t.
“Yeah, you did. I was hurt, and pissed, and… enraged.” I heard him walking, pacing, but didn’t turn to look at him.
“Sometimes,” he continued, “I remember you teaching me to read, or helping me learn to ride my bike. I remember how it was just you and me when dad was gone. I missed you when you were gone, but I was so damned mad. You left me. You abandoned me. My whole fucking life changed.”
Finally, I turned to look at him. “I abandoned you and your wolf, and I’m so sorry. I made bad choices. I screwed up.” My shoulders dropped as I said, “I hurt the people I loved. The people who loved me. I don’t deserve to have either of you in my life. Thanks for being here.”
He pulled me into his arms and my tears came close to the surface for the first time in nearly a decade. I hadn’t cried since the last time I was in solitary confinement — nine years ago. I hugged him back, and he said, “I forgive you, mom. You’ve spent nearly a third of your life in a cage. You’ve more than paid for your bad choices.”
“Thank you, son. It feels like I don’t have the right to call you son. It feels like I lost… I’m sorry.”
“I know. We both lost a lot.” He pulled away and reached for his helmet. “Let’s get lunch somewhere and then I’ll take you home.”
Chapter 3
Darnell
I wasn’t looking forward to having to take Keisha to the drivers license place, though my wolf was pacing inside me, wanting to see her.
I didn’t realize it until the builders had the walls up on her little house, but I could see her front porch from my bed. People can’t see in my windows, but I can clearly see out, so I’d frequently seen her curled up on the swing with her phone, reading a book. I’d gone with the expense of the large covered porch so it would help me rent it out once Keisha was gone, but watching her on it and seeing how much she appreciated the freedom and the clean air — I was glad I’d put it in for her. The wolf wanted her to be happy.
She’d gone to a secondhand store and bought jeans and t-shirts, but also a few skirts and dresses. Nothing fancy, but she looked comfortable in her cotton dress and bare feet.
She looked like my Keisha.
But today would be the last time I’d have to play chaperone. Assuming she passed both the written and driving tests, she’d get a temporary license until the regular one showed up in the mail. Her cosmetology boards were scheduled a few days away, but she’d be able to drive herself to them.
If you’d asked me fifteen years ago what would make me divorce Keisha, I’d have told you nothing, and I’d have been damned annoyed at the question.
But when I’d returned from a mission that’d almost got me killed, and my commanding officer told me my wife was in jail and my son in foster care — everything changed.
Darius had been a relatively new wolf, so foster care had been hell for him. My superiors had decided national security was more important than my son being cared for by strangers for a few weeks, but he’d been all alone — a scared little boy with a wolf he’d barely learned to control. He still bears the fucking scars from those weeks. He was never claustrophobic before, and it took us years before we could even lock the car doors while we were driving through a rough part of town. Hell, he only let us lock the front door because his bedroom window stayed unlocked.
My superiors had given me a few months’ leave to get things sorted, and I’d had to make arrangements for someone to care for him while I tried to deal with my wife’s legal problems and my son’s feelings of abandonment.
Within weeks, she’d been my ex-wife, and I’d been remarried before my leave was up. I hadn’t loved Aggie, but I’d liked and respected her. She’d known up front it was a business arrangement. I needed an adult to be there for my son when I was away, and she was great with him. She loved him, she gave him boundaries. It was really too bad I’d already mated for life, because Aggie would’ve been the perfect mate if the spot hadn’t already been filled and then shit on.
She and her daughter moved into our house, and I provided spending money, paid all the utilities, and made sure there was enough for groceries and anything else she needed. Aggie and her daughter had been living in a camper, so my house had seemed huge to them. I understood why Aggie chose to be a teacher on the Cherokee reservation instead of using her degree to make more money elsewhere, so I told her I’d help supplement her paltry income as long as she’d be a good stepmother to my son.
The truth is, my wolf will never mate with anyone else. Keisha was our mate, but she did the one thing I could never forgive her for: She hurt our son. She wounded him.
Keisha slid behind me on the bike and reached her arms around me tentatively. I sighed inwardly as I touched her hands to make sure she held on tight. She’s human, she has to be safe.
I drove slowly at first, but she leaned and worked with me, so I gave it more gas and drove the way I normally do. My heart hurt at the feeling of her arms around me, moving in synch as we leaned side to side through the curves.
I went in with her, but sat and let her handle everything without me. I wasn’t her partner. I was her ride. Nothing more.
When she showed me the temporary license, it looked like she wanted to hug me in her excitement, so I smiled and turned to walk out the door before she had a chance.
“Happy for you,” I told her as we put our helmets on. She nodded but didn’t say anything else. I was pleased the conversation wasn’t continuing, but my wolf was pissed at me for hurting her feelings.
Fuck. She’d hurt more than my feelings — she’d survive my not celebrating with her.
I opened the garage door and pulled the bike in when we arrived. I pointed to the button on the center console. “This button’s the garage door opener, and I’ll give you the code into the garage so you can get it.” I looked at the door leading into my kitchen. “The door into the house is locked, but I’m giving you a lot of trust by giving you access to the garage.”
“I won’t make you regret it. Thank you.”
I shook my head and handed her a motorcycle key. “Add it to your keyring. The garage code is D
arius’s birthday backwards – all eight numbers.” I’m a strong believer in never using birthdays or anniversaries for codes, but I needed to make it something she’d remember. Plus, this wasn’t even close to the code for anything else. “If your parole officer asks, you have to ask me to get the bike out when you use it. You can’t have access to my house.”
“Do I need to let you know when I use it, or would you rather not be bothered by me asking?”
“Send me a text when you get it and when you return it. You don’t have to ask — it’s here when you need or want it, I’d just like a heads up when it leaves and comes home. There’s a full tank of gas now, and I’d like you to keep at least a half-tank in it at all times. If you run into mechanical problems, I use the RTMC bike shop. You can call Darius or me, but Darius will probably get them to help you faster.”
“Do you think I can tag along when you go to the grocery store in your car? You can’t carry a lot on the bike.”
I sighed. “Yeah. You need to go now? My work schedule is all over the place, so I go when I’m running low. I could go now, if you need food.”
“I have enough to last until tomorrow.”
“Okay. Give me thirty minutes and I’ll meet you back here.”
I beat the hell out of the heavy bag in my basement, changed my hands to wolf and back so she wouldn’t see the damage, ate some leftover barbecue in my fridge, and met her back outside.
“You ready for your boards?” I asked on the way to the store.
“I hope so. I’ve studied all I can.” She sighed. “I love the woods behind your place. I guess your wolf likes it, too.”
“He does.”
“I miss your wolf. I miss you.”
Fuck. “Do you need to go anywhere else while we’re out?”
She shook her head. “The grocery store will have everything I need. Thanks.”
I cringed inside as I noted she bought all cheap food at the store — baloney, hotdogs, potatoes, rice. I was determined not to give her more money or help with her living expenses beyond what I’d already done though. I needed to see if she could handle her money. So far, she had.
Uncaged Page 2
