The Redemption Lie

by Amanda J. Clay

  Three to five years was a small price to pay for the rest of her life.

  The first night was the hardest. Stepping into what looked like a concrete warehouse, she realized most of what she knew about jail had come from melodramatic prime time television. The echoes of tears, the sour scents of defecation and sweat, the radiating fear and sadness—the sensations would linger in her soul forever. They rooted so deeply within her that she would never dig them out. They had fused to her essence.

  Every day she’d waited for her assassin. She never once believed she was safe. But days passed and nothing happened. Luther had died in the shootout and it seemed any vendettas against her had died with him. Had they wanted to kill her, they could have easily. They could even get people in solitary if they really wanted. Prison was just a cesspool of violence, people sitting around awaiting some unknown execution that could come at any moment, around any corner.

  Nina came back to the present. If she had to, she'd run. She had enough money saved up that she thought she could get out of town and stay gone. She could sell the business and the house once she was well hidden. She had a few trusted friends who would keep a secret for her. The one upside to being a reformed criminal, is she knew other not-quite-so-reformed criminals.

  In the first few months after she had gotten out of jail, Nina was just a shell of herself. She frequented local bars, used random detached sex with passing tourists as a numbing agent. She was the girl still sitting at the bar, clinging to her drink when the ugly lights came on.

  She’d been wracked with guilt, her self-esteem annihilated. She no longer knew what kind of person she was, no longer knew where she fit in the world. In those early days, the only thing that she knew was survival. Find a job, make sure you have something to eat, somewhere to sleep. Nothing else seemed to matter. She didn't think she was worth anything else.

  At first she was too afraid to use the money. She'd seen enough money laundering pass by to know it happened every day in every town and the government was never the wiser. But she didn't want to be like them. She wanted to pay taxes. And she would pay taxes on every cent. But first she had to get the money into the system legally.

  Thankfully she still had enough connections in the dark place to put her in touch with an accountant that hung out on the wrong side of the law.

  She opened up the secret folder on her phone and typed in the code.

  Chapter 15

  It was one of those perfect days around the lake, the crystal-clear water shimmering in a myriad of shades of blue and green. Happy families and tourists drunk on both the sunshine and mimosas gallivanted around the water. The soft sound of motorboats and laughter echoed across the massive span of freshwater. In the distance the towering Sierra Nevada mountains stood guard, blocking this slice of paradise from the rest of the world.

  Nina, Brooklyn and Reina pulled into the village in Nina’s Jeep and found parking at the public lot in the town center. It was the kind of day that was made for patios and cold margaritas. For beach volleyball and dipping toes in the water. Water that despite the height of summer would still be mountain cool and cleansing.

  Nina just needed one careless afternoon to forget about Luther and her past and Agent Beck Graham.

  They settled into a patio table at Tia Gorda’s, a Cantina themed hot-spot favored by locals and tourists alike. Mikey, the bartender, instantly recognized them and waved from inside. He came and set down a round of house margaritas, not even needing to ask what they wanted, then passed out a round of hugs.

  “Haven't seen you guys in a while,” Mikey said, artfully stroking his mountain chic beard. He folded his muscular forearms over his chest, the intricate artwork creeping out from his rolled-up flannel sleeves. He was one of those village celebrities the local girls all clamored the get their claws into. Iconic mountain chic, rugged, the promise of unforgettable romance.

  Her younger self might have subtly tugged down her white tank top, leaned over, tossed her hair. But she’d unfortunately burned that bridge when it came to Mikey.

  “Yeah things are just a little hectic down at the restaurant. I haven’t had much time to get out for fun,” Nina said.

  “Don't I know it. We've just been a revolving door of fucking tourists these past few weeks.”

  “Hey we can’t complain. We’d all be out of a job if this dried up,” Nina said.

  “True, true. I'm not complaining. You should see Southlake. Casinos are turning into graveyards since Indian casinos opened up in the Valley. That place is becoming a real shithole. Rampant crime and drugs everywhere,” Mikey said.

  Nina forced a smile. If only the locals knew about the corruption at the bedrock of this idyllic oasis.

  “That's why we must fight for the integrity and charm of our quaint little village,” Nina said smiling.

  “Are you eating? “Mikey asked.

  “More than likely. Just a give us a sec, ok?” Nina said.

  Mikey sauntered away, and Nina noted Brooklyn's beaming eyes fixed on his back.

  “I know that look,” Nina said.

  “Huh? What?” Brooklyn said, her voice gaining an octave.

  Nina laughed. “He’s a good guy. I approve.”

  “No, I'm not thinking that,” Brooklyn said, flustered.

  Reina snorted an entirely unfeminine snort. “Bullshit. Eyes don’t lie, blondie.”

  “Mikey’s a good guy. And he’s nice to look at. I’d give that beard a good tug,” Nina said.

  Brooklyn blushed beet red.

  “I don’t know. He has kids, an ex-wife. That’s a lot of baggage at my age,” Brooklyn said.

  “Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but everyone's got baggage,” Reina said. “Especially around these parts. At least his kids are cute. I’ve seen them in the restaurant. Very well mannered.”

  Suddenly Brooklyn's eyes popped up and stared at Nina again.

  “Wait, didn’t you sleep with him?” Brooklyn said.

  Nina laughed. Her cheeks burned. “Mikey? No, I didn't sleep with him.”

  She waited a beat and both women gave her an incredulous look.

  “Ok, I slept with his brother John,” Nina said.

  Brooklyn’s jaw fell in amusement. “He’s Mikey’s brother?”

  Reina roared with laughter.

  “Oh, give me a break, it's a small town," Nina said. She quickly downed her margarita.

  “Nice tits,” a voice said. They all three snapped up to see a couple of frat-like guys walking by, leering snickers on their smug faces.

  “Yeah, wanna see mine?” Reina shouted, flexing her massive biceps.

  The frat boys looked both disgusted and terrified and scuttled away.

  Nina and Brooklyn burst into laughter.

  “You should really be for hire,” Brooklyn said.

  “Guys are such pigs. Sometimes I wish I were a lesbian,” Reina said.

  “Give it a try,” Nina said.

  Reina looked as though she were considering it. She shrugged. “I would but I love dick too much.”

  Nina and Brooklyn Raised their glasses in salute.

  The three of them formed an unlikely friendship, no denying that. But they had formed their bond through the trials and tribulations of rebuilding their lives from the ashes. Nina cared about all the women she worked with but she knew she could always count on Brooklyn and Reina.

  Nina wasn’t sure she would have survived those early days of prison without Reina. For whatever reason, the massive woman had taken to Nina instantly, ushering her under her wing and shielding her from the worst of its horrors. Nina was cunning and intelligent. And she was physically fit in the sense that she could run a marathon, but she was small in life, tight muscles against a compact frame. She was an easy target for bullies. And much to her naive surprise, even low-security jail had its share of bullies.

  “Girly, I’d watch those tears,” the rough voice had said from the bunk above her that first dreadful night.

  Nina had looked
up, eyes bloodshot and body shaking, at the beast of a woman above her. At first glance she was terrifying, with bulging muscles, hair cropped short, and tattoos covering her neck and shoulders. But there was a warmth in her eyes, a gentle brown like the earth.

  She’d smiled down at Nina, her compassionate expression not matching her gravelly voice.

  “Sorry,” Nina said, wiping her eyes. “Just an emotional wreck right now.”

  “You're not alone. Everybody cries the first night. It's rough as shit. When the realization hits you that you're locked in a cage for the next however many years. Fuck, it’s a scary thought.”

  Nina swallowed her remaining tears. “Yeah, it's pretty scary.”

  Reina hopped down and introduced herself. “What they get you for?”

  Nina hesitated. Sometimes she still struggled to remember what the exact charges had been. Not the real ones, but the ones she applied for. “Caught with drugs with intent to sell. Tax evasion.”

  “A real-life drug dealer then? You don’t really look the type, missy.”

  “Yeah well guess I wasn't very good at it,” Nina said.

  Reina smiled then and her perfectly straight white teeth suggested that Reina was no meth head.

  “Um, what about you?” Nina said, nervously tucking her tangled hair behind her ear.

  Reina sighed a deep regretful side. “Did some dumb shit while high.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Nina said.

  Reina could be crass, but that was one of the things Nina loved about her. That was actually the great thing about all her girls. They had all been to the dark place and survived. They knew there were bigger things in life to worry about than being well mannered all the time. And they were unapologetic for their scars.

  Even now, Brooklyn tried so hard to be classy, bless her. Even with track marks on her pale skin, she still fantasized about the lady she could be in another life. Where she came from, little girls had Cinderella dreams. But the reality of any ghetto, is that one day you wake up and you realize that those dreams are for other people. There was no fairy godmother. Prince Charming did not come along. In Brooklyn's world, Prince Charming was down at the bar. You had to weave your own magic if you wanted to survive.

  Despite the great weather, the strong drinks and the good company, Nina was on edge, agitated, acutely aware of every movement and sound. There was never a day when she didn’t think about her past, but at least for a few hours today, she wanted to try to forget. To pretend for a few moments of sunshine, that she’d lived a different life. But it was hard to do that with the DEA breathing down her neck and the organization hunting her down like a wounded animal.

  “Speaking of eligible men, what’s up with that cop who keeps sniffing around like a dog in heat,” Brooklyn said, breaking Nina’s thoughts.

  “I believe it’s the females who go into heat,” Reina said.

  Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “Don’t be smart.”

  “He’s not a cop, he’s DEA. And nothing is up. I’m cooperating on their investigation. End of story,” Nina said.

  “God, if I had someone like that investigating me, I’d cooperate all night long,” Brooklyn said.

  Nina snorted a laugh. “If only life was a romance novel, it might be charming. But as it stands, it’s very inconvenient.”

  “I mean seriously how would you ever get anything done with him around.”

  “You make it sound as though he’s some kind of walking Adonis,” Nina said.

  “I just call it like I see it,” Brooklyn said.

  Nina shrugged, unamused.

  “Oh come on,” Brooklyn said. “He doesn't twist up your little girly parts?”

  It always amazed Nina that someone who had nearly killed herself shooting up, could still use the phrase twist up your girly parts.

  “Well now I must see this walking sex-acle,” Reina said.

  “You two have some interesting choice words. Ok, I admit, he's very cute. But I can't imagine any world where being attracted to a DEA agent is a good idea,” Nina said.

  “Yeah, I guess so. But a girl can dream right?” Brooklyn said, sounding defeated as if it were her own hypothetical relationship shattering against reality.

  “Not girls with criminal records,” Nina said, almost more to herself.

  “Oh come on, so you did some time for drugs. It's not like you killed someone. Or even worse, whored yourself,” Brooklyn said in earnest, a small shudder racking her body.

  Nina raised her eyebrows. “I'm glad that you find killing people less offensive than sex for money.”

  Brooklyn shrugged in a way that said, it is what it is.

  As Brooklyn had so soberly described once, whoring yourself out was the bottom of the bottom. A last resort for beaten women and desperate addicts. Brooklyn was proud of herself that no matter how low she fell, she never fell that low. Because that would have made her an untouchable. No matter what else Cinderella might do to survive, she’d never do that.

  It wasn’t that Nina found dating as a practice reprehensible, but she didn’t have a lot of faith in the male species. Most people crave partnership, companionship. At least occasional bouts of intimacy if nothing more. Nina had tried to date, but it was hard in a small community like this. Most people here were either transient, students working seasonal jobs, or already settled down with a family. The few times she’d managed a few dates with someone, the inevitable conversation bomb about her past was always weighing on her mind. Not a lot of level-headed stable men wanted to touch that. Adding a layer of difficulty, she wasn't even sure what she was looking for. Once upon a time she'd known exactly the kind of man she wanted, the emotional roller coasters fraught with turmoil and angst. Those men constantly caught up in their own existential crises. The kind of man that landed her in prison.

  Nina was finally feeling a little relaxed and happy from the margaritas as she excused herself to use the bathroom. She stretched out her arms, as if she could absorb more of the sun’s rays that way. She felt it beating against her back, warming her from the inside. She walked around the corner of the building to the outdoor restrooms. She did her business and came back out, instantly feeling a strange presence, something slightly off in the air. A foreign energy crackled, rousing the small hairs at the base of her neck. She’d read once that you could actually detect human energy if you were tuned in enough.

  A hand grabbed her wrist. An arm slid around her neck, choking her, pulling her into a warm body. Nina struggled and shrieked but the attacker pulled tighter. He smelled of sweat and stale beer, long nights in darkness.

  Nina’s instincts went into overdrive and she fought. She slipped her hand under his, creating a small airway. She kicked and squirmed and tried to wrestle her way free of the tight grasp. The man said nothing, but held her close. He dragged her.

  Flashbacks of another time being captured and dragged ran through her mind. No. No, she would not be taken again. She would not go through that again. Her ankle boots kicked into the gravel as he pulled and she tried to dig her heels into the dirt to slow his progress. She managed to roll her head around and spotted the windowless white van a few feet away.

  Fuck no. She was not being kidnapped.

  Nina took a breath and relaxed her body for a second in the hopes that he would do the same. It worked. She got just enough slack to be able to get her head forward and snap it back. It crashed right into her kidnapper’s with a loud crack. The attacker growled and Nina shrieked at the top of her lungs.

  Just then a small crowd rushed around the corner of the building.

  “Hey you!” a man’s voice shouted. “What are you doing to her?”

  Nina could barely breathe. Her head was ringing. For a brief moment, the world stopped spinning. Then the attacker lost his hold on her and Nina fell to the dirt.

  Her would-be knight in shining armor went after the attacker, but he was too late. The attacker jumped into the van, slammed the door shut and it sped off around the corner, spitti
ng dirt and gravel in its wake.

  “Nina!” Brooklyn shouted. She knelt beside Nina and grabbed her shoulders. Nina’s whole body was shaking, her brain on short circuit. She tried to focus on Brooklyn’s face but the image was blurred. She rubbed her forehead.

  “Are you ok? What the hell happened?” Brooklyn said.

  “Long story,” Nina said. She tried to stand, but her legs were wobbly. She was in shock. She sat back down in the dirt.

  Reina joined them. Nina heard the blip of a police siren.

  “Who the hell are you anyway? Some kind of lady James Bond?” Reina said with laughter.

  Nina tried to smile but her head was throbbing.

  “I should go. We should go,” Nina said. She tried to stand again but this time Rein’s large hands held her down.

  “No way. Cops just showed up. You’re bleeding.”

  Nina touched her head and felt warm liquid.

  “You going to tell us what’s going on?” Reina said.

  Nina grimaced. “You don’t want to know. Trust me.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?” Reina said.

  “This is about your ex-boyfriend, isn't it?” Brooklyn said.

  “What ex-boyfriend?” Reina said.

  “Guys, just stop ok? I can’t even see straight,” Nina said.

  Momentarily, two police officers rushed over. One was talking into his radio, the other was scanning the scene.

  “Everyone back up,” the officer said. He knelt next to Nina.

  “Miss? Miss are you injured?”

  “I’m fine,” Nina said. “Just shaken.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you need an ambulance?”

  Nina shook her head. “I’m fine.” Then she sighed and reluctantly gave the officer a brief rundown. “It happened really fast. I…I can barely remember it.”

  “Check her head! She might have a concussion!” Brooklyn said, breathless and concerned. The officer smiled up at her and even in Nina’s half-conscious state, she noted Brooklyn’s scarlet blush.

  “We should check out that head wound. Can you stand?” The officer said.