The Starks Trilogy (Book 1 & 2)

by Nesly Clerge

  Emma opened her arms wide when he reached her. “Baby, how are you?”

  Starks held up his right hand to stop her. “They don’t like hugs here.”

  “But I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Screw it.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

  “I was afraid you’d be mad at me for coming here but I can feel how happy you are to see me.”

  A guard walking by said, “Limited contact.”

  “See what I mean,” Starks said. “Besides, I need to sit down before I embarrass myself.”

  Emma’s laugh was like sunlight.

  “Baby, why haven’t you called me?”

  “You know I didn’t want you to see me like this.” He waved a hand. “In here.”

  “I know how you really look.” She licked her lips. “From head to toe.”

  “You have to stop that. You don’t know how difficult it is to be without you.”

  “I love you. I want to be here for you. Don’t worry about how you look. I don’t care about that.” She stroked his hand. “I care about you. I care about us. If you think I’m the kind of woman who’ll let you go through this alone, you’re wrong.”

  “I appreciate that. But maybe you can understand how I feel.”

  “You need to understand how I feel, baby. First I got that scary letter from you. Then my heart stopped when I heard you’d been killed. I could breathe again when Jeffrey told me you were still alive, and was so worried when I found out your condition.” Her lips stained red formed a pout. “And they wouldn’t let me see you at the hospital, or even get information, because I’m not considered family. I was going crazy. I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

  “I discovered I’m tougher than even I thought.” He patted her hand. “You don’t need to worry. The guys who attacked me won’t be doing it again.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m certain.”

  “How are you holding up here?” She glanced around the room and frowned. “I watched a program about prisons and got freaked out. Rapes, stabbings, killings, the horrible conditions. This is not the life you were made for.”

  “It’s certainly different from what I’m used to but you know how reality shows are. They always make everything sound and look worse than it is.”

  One hand covered her cleavage. “I’m so relieved. I wanted to bring you a cake or some food, but they told me I couldn’t.”

  “I appreciate the thought. You always did special things for me.” He stared down at his hands. “It’s best if I don’t think too much about what’s out there. What I’m missing. It’s just… easier that way.”

  “Does that include me?” When Starks didn’t answer, tears welled in her eyes and spilled over. “It’s so hard being without you. Life’s no fun anymore.” She flipped her blonde hair from her shoulders. “You don’t deserve this. You should be enjoying life. With me.”

  “Please stop crying. I can’t stand it.”

  “If you want I can visit you next week. Every week… if you’d like.” Her smile was hesitant.

  “As nice as that would be, it’s not a good idea, babe.”

  Emma sniffed a few times then smiled. “I brought you something.” She reached into her handbag and waved her gift. “Calvin Klein underwear. They said underwear was okay.”

  Starks blushed and laughed. “It’s prison, babe.” He gazed into her eyes. “You’re a good woman, Em. I knew from our first date that you were the one for me.”

  “The only one?”

  “Believe it.”

  CHAPTER 98

  THE HOUR-LONG VISIT with Emma had ended with some things said and others left unspoken. They couldn’t leave the room together, so Starks asked Emma to leave first. He noticed inmates and guards appreciating the sway of her hips as much as he did. Word of her visit would likely get around, which he realized could benefit his reputation with some of the inmates.

  It was recreation time, so Starks went straight to the yard. He squinted against the bright sunlight. Vulgarities, laughter, and shouts reverberated in the large enclosure. A few of the Hermanos sitting on benches several yards away nodded at him; he returned the gesture then ambled forward, trying to decide what to do, if anything, noticing nods coming from other inmates, some he’d seen before and others he hadn’t. He stopped at the basketball court, where seven inmates were taking turns shooting hoops.

  “Hey, Starks,” one of the inmates on the paved court said, “You wanna play?”

  “Sounds good.”

  He didn’t know how to feel about this invitation. It was the first time any inmates had asked him to participate in whatever they were doing, especially a game. And, they knew his name, which wasn’t too hard to understand. Still, it made him feel a number of things at once: less unknown or forgotten, and it carried the familiarity of status he’d once counted on as a given.

  The game of four-on-four went on for a while amid laughs, lots of shouting, some cursing at missed shots, whether by the inmate who missed it or those who chided him. Each man’s scrubs clung in wet patches to his skin; when two or more players collided, sweat sprayed from their bodies. Despite how the scar tissue pulled, Starks played well enough. His side lost, threatened to win the next time, asked Starks to promise to join them again.

  He rested his hands on his thighs, and stayed bent over for a few seconds to catch his breath. When he straightened, he saw Luke Roberts walking the yard. The CO looked his way. Starks scratched his ear and arm as instructed. A subtle nod was returned by the CO.

  Starks said his goodbyes then sauntered over to where Roberts waited at the gate.

  Speaking low he said, “You’re not doing your job.”

  Roberts glanced around. “I’m gonna take your arm and walk you inside so it looks like we have a reason to talk.”

  “Got it.”

  “What do you mean… about not doing the job?”

  “Our mutual ‘friend.’ The one who recently paid a visit to the SHU approached me again. About two hours ago. Made his threats, basically saying my days are numbered. Maybe even my hours. He wasn’t forthcoming with details.”

  “The man must’ve had too easy a time in the hole. He’s going back in. Soon as I leave you. These next several days are gonna make him call out to Jesus.”

  “Good. Because I’ve already set my side of things in motion. Everything’s getting arranged as we speak.”

  “Can’t happen too soon.”

  The two men stood inside the prison. Roberts let go of Starks’s arm. “I’m gonna handle that numbnuts right now.”

  “Give him a kiss from me.”

  Roberts rested his right hand on his taser. “He’ll get kissed in a few places.”

  Starks looked down at his shoes. “You might want to monitor the other four. I’m sure you picked them for a reason, but you can’t be too careful.”

  “Anything you’re not telling me?”

  “Just stay sharp.”

  The CO winked and walked off, swinging his nightstick in slow circles.

  Starks watched the CO move away and muttered to himself, “As my grandfather always said, we teach people how to treat us.”

  CHAPTER 99

  THE NEXT TWO days were as quiet and uneventful as Starks could hope to experience at Sands, that is, until the fact he had three visitors was announced. CO Ted Landers was the one who had found him. Guard and inmate walked the corridors together, enough time for Ted to quietly give an update about his wife’s slow but gradual improvement and express more gratitude for the help they were receiving.

  Starks stopped just outside the visitation room, watching Ted walk away, noting how the man didn’t walk like the weight of his burdens were as heavy as before. To be able to do something that mattered so much for someone, especially while trapped in here, felt good. More than that, he thought, it felt redeeming.

  For my sins.

  Starks entered the visitation room, searching for familiar faces. He found them
: His mother, his aunt Anita, and his cousin Hank watched him from the table where they sat. Their expressions were easy to read: anxious, fearful.

  He fixed a smile on his face and waved; they rose to greet him. He walked in their direction and watched his mother’s face contort; people turned and stared as her sobs grew louder.

  Starks was three feet from the table. He paused and said, “There are restrictions about hugging. Only the briefest contact is allowed. Any more than that and I could get into trouble. Before I come closer, do each of you understand this?”

  Anita and Hank nodded. His mother wrung her hands, her eyes conveying a clear message that this restriction didn’t apply to her. When she saw he wasn’t moving, she nodded as well. Appropriate hugs were exchanged. The four took their seats.

  Lynn Starks studied her son’s face. In a normal voice that grew louder with each sentence, she said, “I can’t believe you’re in this place. With these… criminals. I can’t believe my brilliant son has to mingle with people such as these, like that hideous man over there sitting with that tattooed woman. What kind of woman does that?”

  “Mom, keep your voice down.” He grasped one of her hands then let it go, saying “It’s okay. Really. It’s not as bad as it looks. Most people in here are doing their best to get by until they can leave. I promise I’m doing all right in here.”

  Lynn sat rigid in her chair. “How can you say that, after what happened?”

  “The people who hurt me can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “If not them, someone else. I didn’t raise you for this.” She flicked a hand in the air. “If only you’d listened to me about that bitch. She was never good enough for you.”

  Anita placed one of her hands atop one of Lynn’s. “This is not the time. You have to be strong for your son.” She turned to Starks. “How are you truly doing, nephew?”

  Starks stretched out his arms then slapped his chest. “Look at me. I’m fine. Really.”

  Hank leaned forward. “Did you actually get stabbed?”

  “Yes.” Starks cast a quick glance toward his mother. “But we don’t need to talk about that.”

  “That’s gangsta, cousin.” Hank drew back when Anita slapped him. “Sorry,” he said. “But look at him. He’s okay. Starks, I didn’t mean to dis you or anything.”

  “I know. When you live outside prison walls, it may seem like life inside has a romanticized veneer on it, like you’re watching a movie or reading a novel. When you live it, the veneer comes off.”

  Anita pinched Hank’s arm. “What the hell’s wrong with you for asking a question like that? And in front of your cousin’s mother?”

  “Sorry, auntie.”

  Anita eyed Starks up and down. “You’ve gained a few pounds, I see.”

  “Thanks to the food I get in the commissary. The food in the chow hall is… it could be better.”

  Lynn slammed a hand against the table top. “Shame’s been brought to our family. All because of her. I can’t say enough bad things about her. I’d like to say them to her face. I’d like to pound her goddamn face. Until no man would ever look at her again.” She wagged a finger at him. “Your grandfather and I both warned you about her but you were too damn stubborn, too damn horny, to listen.”

  One of the guards was watching them, his posture indicating he considered walking over to their table.

  Starks said, “You have to keep your voice down. You’re drawing attention from the guards. You stir up trouble and he’ll make you leave. They may even force me to remove your name from the visitors’ list. Look, Mom, I understand why you’re upset, and I appreciate it. But what happened is in the past. Nothing any of us can do about it now. I’m making the best of this situation. And one way I can do that is to put the past behind me.”

  Anita nodded. “That’s the best way to deal with it. Before you know it, you’ll be out of here.” She blushed and added, “So to speak.”

  Lynn crossed her arms at her chest, her hands balling once again into fists. “All the money you paid those damn lawyers. They should have gotten you off. It’s Kayla who should be in prison,” she turned her face to the room, saying loudly, “not my son.”

  Starks placed a hand on her right arm to try to persuade her to calm down. She turned her face toward him. “She should suffer for what she’s done to you and your children. Your children need you. They don’t need their whore of a mother.”

  Starks sat back in his chair, realizing his mother was geared up for one of her loud rants about Kayla, no matter what he said or what any guard might say. The truth was that he’d appreciate her words and emotions if he were living free; he would even enjoy her anger on his behalf and join in, revel in the self-righteousness of it. But her carrying on was exactly the reason he didn’t want his family, particularly his mother, to visit.

  Starks glanced at the faces at his table, with a plea for compliance in his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else. Give me news of the family. Share some good things with me. We only have twenty minutes for our visit; we’ve already used ten. Let’s not use that time talking about anything or anyone unpleasant.”

  Lynn’s expression was one of surprise. “I thought we had a few hours.”

  The lies came easily and from a true desire to get away from his family. “There’s a long list today of people waiting for a visit. Plus, I have a job at the library. I had to get someone to cover for me, but his time’s limited. I promised to get back as soon as possible so he can be on time for his job.”

  “You have a job?” Anita asked.

  “I like it. It keeps me busy. The place needs a lot of reorganization.”

  “My son is working in a prison library. The shame never ends.” Lynn shook her head slowly from side to side.

  Ten more minutes was all Starks could take. The digital numerals on the wall clock had changed in what felt like slow motion. He hurried through the tearful goodbyes on the part of his mother and aunt, slapped Hank’s back and told him to stay out of trouble, then made a hasty exit.

  Being with his family had always been a comfort, especially once his structured life had begun to collapse. Now, he couldn’t get away from them fast enough.

  CHAPTER 100

  STARKS KNOCKED ON Demory’s door, waited to be told to enter then closed the door behind him. Demory was smiling at him. He smiled back as he took a seat in his usual chair.

  “I called your attorney—Parker. Very knowledgeable man. Thanks for the referral.”

  “He’s the best money can buy. Was he able to help?”

  “He said I have nothing to worry about. I hope he’s right.”

  “Usually is.”

  “So, Starks, how are things going with you?”

  Starks pulled Demory’s pen holder to him and began rearranging its contents. “A few family members visited. My mother, an aunt, a cousin.”

  “Were you happy to see them?”

  “I was and I wasn’t. Of course I miss them. But there was some drama.” He glanced up. “My mother.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was tearful, which I expected. And she wanted to carry on about Kayla. Loudly. I get that better than anyone; I’m the one who loved Kayla and married her.” He slid the pen holder back to its original place on the desk. “I lied about how long the visit could last. They were disappointed, especially my mother. But I couldn’t listen to her for an hour or more. No matter how many times I warned her, she kept raising her voice, getting the guards’ attention.”

  “Maybe the next visit will go better.”

  Starks leaned back, linking his hands behind his head. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling. “Maybe. I may need to restrict how often they can visit. I’ll have to see how I feel about that.”

  “You know best what you feel, and what you need.”

  “Yeah.” He sat up, brought his hands to his lap and picked at his cuticles. “Emma—the woman I became involved with after Kayla and I separated—came to see me.”

  “How
did that go?”

  Starks chuckled. “Better than with family. Emma’s great. She turned every head when she came here. She turns heads everywhere she goes. Smart, too. We met at an engineering conference after Kayla and I were separated. She teaches molecular biology at U.M.”

  “Was she the first woman you got involved with after the separation?”

  “There was another woman before her; it lasted only four months. Emma was different, though. It got serious with her, enough that she and her son moved in with me.”

  Demory scribbled on his notepad. “What was it about the first woman that didn’t work out?”

  “She was messy. I mean like pigsty messy. I didn’t care how good in bed she was, that habit of hers was damn annoying. And, she was also one of those people who always had ideas but never implemented them. That annoyed me, as well. It was the lack of discipline that turned me off. And the excuses. Every time I said anything to her about any of it, she’d start the tears. I had to watch everything I said. I won’t live like that so ended the relationship.”

  “What about Emma?”

  “Emma’s reasonable, rational, cares about family. She has a close relationship with her mother, who acts the way a mother should. Emma’s a far better person than Kayla ever was or ever will be, and she appreciates me. All characteristics of a good wife.”

  Starks flung back in the chair. “I can’t believe the senseless decisions Kayla’s made these last several years. As bad a choice as Ozy was, now Kayla’s involved with that good-for-nothing Bret. He’s not doing anything about contributing or providing for her financially. If something happens to her, you can bet he’ll be gone in a flash. No way would he stay around and take care of her. And she’s carrying his child, for God’s sake. What the hell is she thinking? She barely knows him. Has him and his daughters living in our house, with our children.

  “Sure, he caters to her; she’s paying for his life. What Kayla doesn’t get is that Bret’s put his best face forward. That’ll last awhile then the real person he is will surface. He’s using her—financially, sexually, emotionally. Using isn’t loving.”