JUSTIFIED

by Danielle James

  Over a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup lunch, they talked about the book. “You’ll need to write a proposal,” Jon told her. “Jenny says it needs to be about three pages long, outlining the entire story. I think the first three chapters would be best to send with it.”

  “The whole story?” Sarah asked. “The ending too?”

  “Yep,” he answered.

  “That seems wrong, to give away the ending.”

  “I know, but that’s how they do it, apparently.”

  “What if I don’t know how it will end yet?” she asked.

  “Then write that down too. Just give her what you got. I trust Jenny. She won’t do you wrong.”

  “Will you help me write it?” Sarah asked him. “The proposal. I don’t think I’ve ever written one before. I want it to sound professional.”

  “Of course I will,” he said. “Want to get started right after lunch?”

  “Yeah, that would be good.”

  They spent the next two hours bouncing ideas off each other. Sarah would tell Jon what she wanted to say, and he would help her with the wording to make it sound professional. He really didn’t think she needed his help, but he was glad to offer it just the same.

  They were seated side by side at the computer desk, their heads bent together as if they were plotting a scheme. Jon found himself laughing and Sarah laughed too.

  “Ok, what about this?” Sarah asked.

  Jon turned his head to look at her and found himself mere centimeters from her. Their noses were almost touching, their eyes parallel to each other. He found his eyes dropping to her lips. They were slightly parted and she drew in a sharp breath. He felt the vehement urge to kiss those lips. All he had to do was close the scant distance and take it.

  “Um,” Sarah said.

  It was all Jon needed to snap himself back into the situation at hand. “What?”

  “I was thinking that I could just keep writing about it up to the point of where I was moved into the prison. Ya know, the present.”

  Jon cleared his throat. “I think the story needs to be told to the end.”

  “That is the end.”

  “No, it’s not. The end is when you get out of prison and live your life again.” As soon as he uttered the words, Jon wished he could take them back. Sarah instantly drew away from him and slammed her walls back up.

  “I’m not going to get out of prison for a long time yet, Jon. I still have almost twelve years left. I don’t think any publisher will want to wait that long.” She stood up from the desk and stretched her back. “I need a rest. I’m going to watch TV or something.”

  Jon watched her walk away from his study angry at himself. Things had been going so well and he had just ruined it. Why couldn’t he control his big mouth? One mention of real freedom and she clammed up again. He silently cursed his thoughtless behavior. She was never going to cooperate if she felt like anyone was trying to force her. She had to fight her inner demons in her own way, in her own time. All Jon could do was give her the ammunition she needed to fight.

  TWELVE

  Sarah sat on her bunk, legs crossed, journal in hand. Five days had passed since she came back from her furlough. Five long days. Michelle was sitting across the cell on her own bunk, completely engrossed in the book she had borrowed from Sarah. She wasn’t so bad, not once you got past the constant stream of chatter that fell from her lips. In fact, the only time she was silent was when she was reading. Sarah was going to have to get more books.

  Sarah had wanted to write some more, but for the first time, she was having trouble. It was all Jon’s fault. Her mind was swimming with the memories of the weekend she spent with him at his home. He hadn’t treated her like the cold blooded monster that she was. But then, he never had. Not once.

  Jon had always, from day one, treated Sarah with respect and dignity. He treated her not like her attorney, but like a friend. He treated her as if her opinions and thoughts were worth something. As if she was important to him. He acted as if he cared.

  All things she didn’t deserve.

  What if he was right? What if she really wasn’t such a bad person? What if she really had been pushed to her limit and simply lost her mind for a bit? What if she should consider taking parole? No, that wasn’t possible. Sarah thought her actions out. She knew what she was doing. She would accept the consequences.

  But damn him for making her think. For making her doubt.

  Sarah stared at the blank page in her journal and tried to figure out what to write about next. She could think of several days that weren’t so bad with William, but that wasn’t where her mind was. Her thoughts were centered on Jon and his suggestions. He wanted her to talk with her sister. To seek out a friend.

  Sarah didn’t have any friends anymore.

  With a sad sigh, Sarah picked up her pen. Then, she did something she hadn’t done in two years. She began writing a letter to her sister.

  At first, the words were difficult. But soon her pen flew over the paper with ease. She told her sister all about the prison, about her roommate, about her writing. She had forgotten how good it was to talk to her sister, and the words flowed freely from her once she got going. Sarah wrote and wrote until she had filled several pages. When she was finished, Sarah wiped a tear from her eye. She missed her family. She missed being around people she cared about. She missed her freedom.

  Sarah had finished the proposal to send to Jon’s agent friend, with his help, of course. When it was finished, they watched old movies until the wee hours of the morning. It had been fun, which was something Sarah had been in serious lack of. But unfortunately, they had slept late into Sunday and Sarah had felt cheated of her time away from the prison.

  It had been harder than Sarah had expected to return to the prison. Jon walked her inside, signed the papers, and then walked her back to her little cell. Her roommie had been waiting for all the gushy details that Sarah hadn’t had to give her.

  On some level, Sarah wished there had been juicy details to share. It had been a long time since Sarah had been attracted to a man, but her instinct told her that if she had instigated it, Jon wouldn’t have fought her. Even if it was only once.

  No, thinking that way would get her nowhere. It struck Sarah as funny how often she had to remind herself that Jon was her attorney and nothing more. But still, it had made for good fantasy material.

  Sarah thought the week would never end. Each day seemed to drag out longer than the one before, and her nerves were drawing tighter and tighter. Finally, Friday had arrived. Jon would be visiting, and hopefully bearing a new stack of books.

  Sarah barely ate any supper because she was suddenly nervous about seeing Jon. Not that she would have eaten much anyway. The slop of the evening had been called spaghetti. All that served was to compare the rubbery noodles to the delicious meal Jon had made for her at his home.

  After returning to her cell, Sarah did something she hadn’t done in a long time. She stood in front of the mirror and brushed her hair. She tied it back, then yanked out the rubber band and let it fall freely around her shoulders. She tried to fluff some life into it, but it was no use. Sarah sighed aloud.

  “Oh my god. You got it.”

  “What?” Sarah said to Michelle.

  “You’re primping,” Michelle said. “I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I have never seen you primp. Give. What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Sarah answered.

  “It’s not nothing,” Michelle answered. “It’s because that hot attorney of yours is coming, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah huffed. “Why would I primp for him?”

  “Because he’s hot. Because you are a red blooded woman. Because any one of us in this hell hole would give up commissary for a month for one hour of time alone with him.”

  Sarah laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I’m not primping.”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “I’m not!”

  “O
k, ok. I believe you.” Michelle went back to her book. She peered over the top to watch Sarah not primp in the mirror.

  “Ok,” Sarah admitted, “maybe I am primping just a little. Lord knows why.”

  “I thought we already discussed that. It’s ok to want to look nice for a red hot guy,” Michelle said with a wicked grin.

  “He’s my attorney, nothing more.”

  “Says you,” Michelle grumbled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I see the way he looks at you.”

  “And just how is that?”

  “Like he’s starving and you’re a buffet.”

  Sarah wanted to say something witty in response to that, but the hottie in question chose that minute to show up.

  “Good evening ladies,” he said.

  Sarah dropped her brush and spun around. Yep, there he was. He was dressed in jeans and a casual sweater; those glasses perched on his nose as usual. Those same blue eyes that she had stared into so many times over the weekend. The same strong arms that had held her while she cried. She took a shallow breath and greeted him.

  “Hey Jon.”

  “So, got any more for me today?” he asked, taking a seat on Sarah’s bunk.

  “No, actually, I don’t. I can’t seem to get the words on the paper.” Sarah picked up the letter for her sister. “But could you deliver this to Mary?”

  Jon raised an eyebrow in surprise, but took the letter without further comment. “I know I haven’t written her in a long time, but today it just felt right,” Sarah continued. “Once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. And don’t get any funny ideas about reading it.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jon said, and Sarah knew he was telling the truth. If nothing else, Jon was a man of his word. He would respect her privacy.

  “So, are you ready for Monday?” he asked.

  “What’s Monday?” Michelle piped in.

  “My next parole hearing,” Sarah mumbled.

  “Oh!” Michelle gasped. “Do you think you might get it?”

  “Doubt it,” Sarah replied.

  “Now, you don’t know that,” Jon said. “It all depends on you, Sarah. You know you could have had parole long before now.” He gave her his best You-know-what-I’m-talking-about look.

  “We’ll see,” Sarah said. She knew the meeting was coming, but for the first time since she was arrested, Sarah didn’t know what she would tell the two men and one woman who held her fate in their hands. Would she continue on as she had been? Or would Sarah do the unthinkable, and admit remorse? And the real question was, was she sorry?

  “I just wanted to point out the benefits of not being in prison,” Jon offered. It was a low blow, and he knew it. But Jon couldn’t bring himself to be sorry for it. Sarah was a wonderful person, if only she could see it for herself. She was kind, smart, funny, and Jon had the feeling that when she gave her heart to someone, she gave all of herself along with it.

  “I know the benefits,” Sarah snapped. “I also know the risks.”

  Damn if she wasn’t thinking of herself in terms of monster again. “Sarah,” Jon chided, “You are a good woman. A good person.”

  “Yeah, one that’s in prison for cold-blooded, premeditated murder.”

  “There were extenuating circumstances and you know it,” he snapped back.

  “That is no excuse!”

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But you were pushed. Anyone could have done the same thing.”

  “But they didn’t. I did. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said, turning her back to him. Sarah fought the tightness in her chest. The swelling in her throat. The tears burning in her eyes. She would not cry. Not anymore. Damn him for making her feel like this.

  “Sarah,” Jon said, placing his hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to upset you.”

  Sarah gave a dismissive wave of her hand over her shoulder. Jon knew that she was done talking. Not just about the parole hearing, but in general. Nothing he could say would get through to her now.

  “I brought you more journals,” he said. He laid the package on her bunk and nodded to Michelle, who had become very uncharacteristically silent. “Call me if you need anything, otherwise, I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  Sarah didn’t turn around to face him as he left, and she didn’t say goodbye. She was too busy being angry with him. Just who in the hell did he think he was, anyway? He was her attorney. Not her friend, not her boyfriend. He had no right to pretend to care about her.

  No right what so ever.

  He had no right to make her think that what he thought about her was important. He probably just wanted to be free of her.

  And Sarah had no right to care what he thought.

  Sarah knew that if she only said the words, she could be free. She could go back to having a normal life, well, as normal as any ex-con could have. She could write her book, get a job, and maybe even start a new family.

  And when she was out, Jon would leave her alone. His job would be finished. She wouldn’t have to listen to him telling her how wrong she was about herself. He would go back to defending criminals and being the perpetual bachelor that he was before she started taking up too much of his time. He would be free from her as well.

  That’s what, Sarah told herself, she should want. No matter how she should feel, Sarah did care about what Jon thought. She did care about him. Getting on parole and letting Jon go was the right thing to do. That’s what she should want to do. The question was did she have the courage to do it? And why did the idea of letting him go hurt so much?

  THIRTEEN

  She was the most exasperating, most infuriating, most stubborn woman he had ever met, Jon thought as he stomped through the rain on Monday morning from his car to the prison entrance. She was going to sabotage this hearing, just like all the rest. He knew it.

  Despite all his efforts, she still didn’t think she was worthy of freedom. He didn’t even know why he bothered to come to the hearing. It wasn’t like she ever once listened to him. She hadn’t followed even one scrap of legal advice he had ever given her. What in the world would make him think she would listen now?

  Jon had done all he could think of to help her. He was running out of options. His logical mind told him that if it was a life in prison she wanted, he should let her have it. After all, she had made it perfectly clear that she was content where she was. That she deserved her punishment. But his heart wouldn’t listen. Somewhere along the way, Jon had come to care about Sarah. And he genuinely liked her. He knew that she wasn’t the monster she made herself out to be. She was a great person. He knew that no matter how many times she refused parole, he wouldn’t give up. He would never abandon her, even if it drove him to insanity. And since he was already thinking it meant he was halfway there, didn’t it.

  Jon dried his glasses and shoved them up his nose as he walked down the long hallway to the room where Sarah would stand before the parole board. Again. That irritating logical part of him asked why he was even bothering. The answer was simple. Sarah had to know that no matter what, he was there for her. He wondered if her little weekend with him had been successful. She had a taste of freedom. Would she want more? Had he gotten through to her? He seriously doubted it. Sarah was nothing if not stubborn. But still, what if… For the first time since he met Sarah, he was nervous about this hearing.

  Jon quickened his pace, focusing on the thumping sound his dress shoes made on the concrete floor and echoed off the walls. What would she say this time? Would she piss off the board like she did last time, or would she just tell them that she wasn’t interested in parole?

  Either way, the result would be the same. Sarah would remain incarcerated, and Jon would be forced to only visit with her weekly.

  It surprised him how much that irritated him. He wanted to be able to see her anytime he wanted. Not just once a week. Not for just a weekend. Jon wanted to be able to see her or talk to her anytime he wanted. And that knowledge irked
him even more.

  He didn’t know when exactly she became personal to him, only that she had. Sarah was a good friend. He didn’t want to see her wasting away in a prison cell any longer. If anyone deserved it, it was that piece of shit she had been married to. But that would never happen, because Sarah had seen to his demise personally. He wouldn’t ever be able to hurt anyone ever again. He wasn’t just thinking about killing Jamie, either. He was thinking about all the ways William had hurt Sarah. All the horrible things he had said and done to Sarah over the years really pissed Jon off. Jon was so revved up that if William weren’t already dead, Jon could have killed that rat bastard himself.