freedom. // ten years ago.
“Mr Cross, it must your lucky day.”
He didn’t move. The pencil in his hand slid against paper in an aimless scribble of led. It could have been anything, he would not have been able to see it even if he had created the next Mona Lisa. He did not like Art anyway, each movement generally a memory of another life in which he had been a surgeon that was like no other. It was almost as if this life and that one were all the same one. “Did you hear me? Get up. You get to walk.”
It had been six years. Five years. Four walls. Maximum security. A punishment for dampening his hands in the blood of his Father. He had smiled that day, for the first time in his entire life, Kyle Cross had been unbelievably happy as he heard the sound of his Father on the ground begging to be forgiven. There had been no turning back.
He and Jessica had been twins but they had shared nothing until that, the pure satisfaction of slaughtering Howard Cross for all his crimes. No moment would ever be sweeter. Perhaps that was why he only just stood, chair sliding back against concrete flooring, pencil falling from limp fingertips, only one question, the only words he had spoken since the trial five and a half years ago, “Why?”
“You’ve been acquitted. Apparently there’s no eye witnesses to the crime, only you and your sister were there and you’re… well,” the sound of the man crunching on a chocolate bar broke his sentence in half, “Your fancy lawyer got you off, lucky bastard.”
“What?” This time it was louder, voice cracked with more emotion than it had been in quite some time as he felt for his stick leaned against the edge of the table, the shadowy figure of the fat man in front of him not deterring him from now walking towards what he was sure was the exit. He had memorised this room a thousand times whether he could see anything but blurs or not. Here he had been apart from his rage for the first time.
“Your lawyer,” the man crumpled the wrapper in his hand, “Been working your case for years, nobody ever thought it’d come through but here we are. Now get a move on before I lock you back up for fun.”
“Ha,” a low breath that resulted in a sound, laughter that held more humour than it had in years because Kyle could not quite imagine why in the thousand impossible scenarios that had gone through his mind, this would be the one he had not thought of; someone working on his case.
“Kyle?”
He knew that voice, the stick in his hand was less of a guide as he walked into a place he had not been in quite some time, the waiting area. “Jess,” it wasn’t a question, just a statement. Here they were face to face, her arms wrapping around him much to his dismay as he let out a short sigh. Who knew that prison would make his sister more affectionate?
“Hey, Larry, look at that. Almost makes you forget they killed someone, huh? So sweet,” one of the men chuckled, “Now ladies, your lawyer is here to see you when you’re done with this really touching reunion.”
Kyle didn’t flinch. He was in a world of his own. Honestly he could not have cared any less about his freedom but as the door swung open and he felt Jess step away he felt the hesitation in the air, his eyes blurred trying to figure out which direction he was looking in until they found a figure that was not much taller than… “Clara.” That wasn’t his voice. That was Jess’.
“Clara.” He almost choked as if it was the worst thing he had ever said, “Fucking Clara,” It was only then that Kyle really clocked onto the situation, his hand rose to his mouth, “What the fuck…”
“No need to thank me,” came the voice of the gentle stranger who’s life he had changed a million years ago and it almost stopped him in his tracks. Almost. “You,” his voice rose like an accusation, “Didn’t I tell you six years ago that you need to get over this? You have to get over me! Fucking psychopath, you wasted five years trying to get me off a crime everyone knows I committed, are you in—“ a horrendous laugh of despair, “Oh God why do I even ask? Why do I even bother?”
He could not see the perplexed look of the guards, nor would he have cared about Jessica’s pinkening cheeks. In fact, the only person who seemed unaffected by his words was Clara who stood there staring at him admiringly. Now, that, he could feel.
“You’re wrong. I told you that if you asked me to do something then you had to be sure,” her tone was even and calm, it cut right to him as the memory faded back from the mixed up history they all shared, “And you didn’t say anything. You didn’t ask me at all.”
He stood there and all he could do was draw a long and frustrated breath. He couldn’t argue. She was right and he hated it, “Ok,” it was said through gritted teeth but it was the closest Kyle Cross would ever get to thank you.
