Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 252(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 252(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
“Leftovers are perfect.” I took the pizza boxes from him and moved to the counter. I found three plates and put two slices each on them before heating each of them in the microwave.
No one spoke in the awkward silence. I turned to find Caleb and Riot both sitting at the table staring at each other.
“Took you long enough.” Caleb pinned Riot with an icy gaze.
If Riot took offense, he was good at hiding it. “Pain had to put a quick stitch or three in my side. Figured I’d take care of that before I came back here.”
“So,” Caleb said after a moment, “you were in prison for killing someone.”
My heart stopped. I whirled around from the microwave, nearly dropping the plate I’d just retrieved. “Caleb!”
Riot didn’t flinch. He held Caleb’s gaze steadily, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, I was.”
The microwave beeped, but I couldn’t move. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I watched as my twelve-year-old son sized up the convicted killer sitting across from him.
“Did they deserve it?” Caleb asked quietly.
I opened my mouth to stop this conversation, but Riot raised his hand slightly, silently asking me to let this play out.
“I thought so at the time,” Riot answered, his voice low and measured. “Still do, if I’m being honest.”
“Was it someone like my dad? Someone who hurt people?”
Riot’s jaw tightened and for a moment, I wasn’t sure he’d answer Caleb. Then he spoke. “Yeah. Someone like that.”
Caleb nodded slowly, processing this information. “And you went to prison for it.”
“I did. Sixteen years.” Riot held my son’s gaze and Caleb didn’t back down.
“Was it worth it?”
The question hung in the air, raw and complicated. I watched Riot’s face, saw the conflict there, the way he struggled with how to answer a child’s deceptively simple question. “That’s what I wanted to think about,” Riot finally said. “I never second-guessed what I did. Not once. My lawyer got me a deal, and I pled guilty.” He shrugged. “Because I was.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed and he suddenly went pale. “Riot. Who did you kill?”
“Does it matter? I got sentenced to twenty-five years for what I did. It’s only because of Knuckles that I’m out now. He pulled some strings and shit that got me out early. The man I killed deserved what he got. No question there. A week ago, before I knew I was getting out on parole, I’d have told you killing that guy was absolutely worth losing all those years behind bars.”
Caleb cocked his head. “And you don’t know now that you’re out?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it until you asked me before. The thing is, the only reason I’m out is because of Knuckles. If he hadn’t been able to get me out, or I hadn’t met and impressed him, then I would still be in prison.”
“I don’t understand.” Caleb was paying close attention to Riot, and I knew exactly why he was asking these questions.
“If I was still in prison, I wouldn’t be here to protect you and your mom.”
Silence stretched between them before Caleb responded. “But if you hadn’t gone to prison --”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t be here to protect you either. But there would at least be a chance I could be here. If I was still in prison, there’s no chance I’d be able to help you.”
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“Caleb, I’m not sure this is appropriate. Riot’s past is private.” I put my hands on Caleb’s shoulders. I needed to touch my son, to remind him how much I needed him.
“It’s all right, Violet. I rarely do anything I don’t want to. Not anymore.” He laced his fingers together and rested his hands on the table. “Will you give me until tomorrow? Your mother’s tired, and she won’t go to bed unless you do.”
I held my breath. Caleb had always been highly intelligent and very good at reading people. I thought what he perceived as a betrayal by his father had shaken him. Caleb had always looked up to his father. Though they never had a close relationship because Doug was away much of the time, Caleb loved his father. He’d believed Doug was a good man. To actually see him hitting me had to have messed with the kid something fierce.
Finally, Caleb nodded. “OK. I think that’s reasonable.”
“Thanks, kid.” Riot stuck out his hand to Caleb and my son took it. “Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow after breakfast.”
It was only eleven, but I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. I was tired and my insides were battered from the constant emotional trauma and fear.
“Will you do one thing?” Caleb kept hold of Riot’s hand, not letting go when Riot did.
“Name it.”
Caleb tightened his grip even more, his knuckles going white as he gripped Riot’s hand. “I want you to stay here with us tonight.”