Free ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO by M. Leighton

life experience
in a short amount of time.
    “I can’t promise you anything,” I confess evenly.  
    Sloane gasps.   She knows what this means for someone like me.   For someone like the people in our
family, who bleed blue and never bend when it comes to the law.   “You’d do that? For her?”
    She’s asking if I’d give up my career for Tommi. If I’d give up my family for her. If I’d give up my life,
all that I’ve worked for and all that I know for her.  
    And the answer is yes.   Because my entire existence would be shit without her.
    I cross my arms over my chest. “I’d do anything for
her.   I just hope I won’t have to.”
    Mouth hanging open, Sloane stares at me for a couple of
minutes before she says anything else.   And even then, she’s brief.   “I
hope she’s worth it.”
    “She is.   She
already is.”
    My sister leans in, rising up on her toes to kiss my
cheek.   “I love you, big brother.”
    “I love you, too, little troublemaker.”
    Her smile is hardly visible as she turns and walks off down
the driveway.
     

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - TOMMI
     
    I haven’t slept a wink all night long.   I’ve cried until I ache from my stomach
all the way up to the top of my head, yet I’m not tired. Not really. I’m
exhausted, but I’m not tired. My mind won’t shut off long enough to let me get
tired.
    I’ve been curled up in a ball on my cot most of the night.   I tried to sleep, even pretended to be
asleep for a while.   It was the
middle of the night–I don’t know what time exactly–when I heard
muffled footsteps coming down the hall of the jail.   I didn’t move. I just waited.   It was dark in my cell, but fairly
bright outside it.   Through the
slits of my eyes, I saw an enormous shadow fall over me.   I didn’t need to see the details of his
face or his body to know that it was Sig.   I could smell him, sense him, feel him.   I don’t know why I feigned sleep.   But I did.  
    He stood watching me for a long time.   Maybe close to fifteen minutes. At one
point, I saw him shift and lean his forehead against the bars. I heard him sigh
so deeply, I think I felt his breath fall across my cheek.   But he didn’t say anything.   Didn’t make another sound, in fact.   Neither did I.   What do you say to the man you love when
he’s the man who put you in jail?
    Well, last night I said nothing.
    I wanted to ask about Travis, but I couldn’t bare it.   Of course, I wanted him to be okay, but
in a way, I hated the thought of him being just fine without me.   All of a sudden, in the lonely concrete
square of my life, it felt as though I wasn’t needed.   Anywhere.   By anybody.   That even though I’d lived a lie and
killed to protect him, Travis would just move on and be fine without me.   That’s what I should want. It’s what I do want.   It’s just hard to see that right
now.   When I’m locked up and
everyone else is free.
    After that, the harsh light of day seemed to bring nothing
good. I was left alone with nothing but doubts and regrets and fears, crowding
in on me.   Eating away at me.   Slow, like a cancer that was gnawing
ruthlessly at my soul.
    Sometime around lunch, I suppose, the DA came to see
me.   He told me that Tonin produced
my brother’s frozen body and that the medical examiner will be conducting an
autopsy immediately. He asked me what would be found. I told him.  
    He asked me other questions, let me
tell my side of things.   It was all
very clinical and unemotional.   I’m
not sure that worked in my favor, but I just felt so cold and so…numb.   Like I’d cried so much, I was empty
inside.
    After he left, I was taken back to my cell.   To wait, I guess.   To be tortured by minutes that tick by
like years and a bleakness that threatened to drag me under.
    Now, it’s afternoon.   Despite the sun slanting through the window at the end of the hall, the
world is getting darker and darker. I feel myself sinking into