Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“I can understand that,” he said. “So, why’d you stop?”
“Because it started making me feel lonelier than just staying home by myself and jerking off. I should probably mention I always practiced safe sex with those men, and I’ve been tested twice in the past two years. I’m negative across the board, so you don’t have to worry. I mean, you know, if we decide to take this further.” Awkward.
“For the record, I’ve been tested and am negative, too.” He tied his hoodie around his waist as he asked, “So, what happened before that? You told me about the last six years, but I’m curious what got you to that point. I’m guessing it was a long-term relationship that went bad.”
“No. Before that, I spent nearly a decade in prison.”
“Just so you know, I don’t automatically judge someone for breaking the law. In fact, some of the people I love aren’t exactly law-abiding.” He was trying to be discreet, but I knew he was referring to his brother. “Out of curiosity, what were you in for?”
“When I was nineteen, I was convicted of a double homicide and sentenced to life in prison.” Before I could tell him the extremely crucial next part, he met my gaze with uncertainty in his eyes. Seeing that felt like a kick to the gut. What did I expect though, after a bombshell like that?
I blurted, “Wait. I was innocent, and I can prove it,” as I got up and pulled my phone from my pocket. Then I whispered, “Please let me have a fucking signal.”
I was so anxious that I mistyped my own name three times. Finally, I pulled up an old news story from the Sacramento Bee and held out the phone to him. He hesitated, but then he took it from my hand.
Since I knew how big and intimidating I was, I took a few steps back and sat down while he read the story. It was only five paragraphs, about a double murder conviction that had been overturned after almost a decade. It explained that the real perpetrator was caught in connection with another murder and confessed to several more, including the two that had sent me to prison. The article also told Romy my real last name, which was Greene. That made me feel kind of exposed, but so be it.
When he finished reading, he glanced at me and I told him, “I’m no saint. Let me make that clear. I break the law all the time, but I’ve never killed anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he said, as he handed me the phone. “Tell me what happened. This doesn’t go into much detail.”
“When I was nineteen and living in South Sacramento, I got pulled over for a busted tail light. While the cops were running my ID, a double homicide came in over the radio. It was about a mile away, and here I was, this punk kid with a juvie record and a bad attitude.
“They arrested me as a suspect, and later on, a witness picked me out of a lineup. That was a joke, because years later I found out the guy who’d actually committed the crime was almost twenty years older and five inches shorter than me. We didn’t look alike either, aside from having dark hair.
“But based on the witness’s testimony, I was brought to trial and found guilty by a jury. Never mind that I had no motive, no ties to the victims, and there was no physical evidence linking me to the crime.”
I stared at the ground and continued, “I spent nine years, seven months, and twenty-two days in prison. I was just a kid when I went in. By the time I was released, I was twenty-eight. A decade of my life had been stolen from me, and there wasn’t a single fucking thing I could do about it.”
Romy said softly, “I’m so sorry. That’s truly awful.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t great.”
After a moment he whispered, almost under his breath, “What must that do to a person?”
I knew he wasn’t really asking me, but I answered anyway. “It made me into a really bitter, hostile, pissed off asshole.”
Romy shook his head. “But that doesn’t describe you.”
“Yes, it does. You’re the only person who gets to see this side of me.”
“Why do I get special treatment?”
I looked away and mumbled, “You just do.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
How could I even begin to explain this? Badly, apparently, because I ended up saying, “I’m not enough of a monster to treat you like anything other than the sweet, beautiful angel that you are, Romy. To do anything other than that would be like…hell, I don’t know, like burning down the Sistine Chapel or something.”
A grin curled the corners of his mouth. “You’re comparing me to the Sistine Chapel?”