Off Limits

"So why Atlanta?" Abby asked. "I know I mentioned that before, but it seems like San Francisco or Seattle or someplace like that would be a lot less dangerous for you."

I sighed and took out my wallet. Flipping through, I took out the creased photo I had inside. "Take a look," I said, handing over the photograph. "You may not recognize one of the people there, but that's me when I was twenty, about six months before I enlisted. The other people are my parents, my brother, Cain, and my sister, Denise. Once I was arrested, I've heard from them one time. My father wrote me a half-page letter that I got to read when I was in the holding brig at Fort Campbell awaiting my court martial. My defense JAG had asked my family to appear, to make a statement or something that could help my case. Instead, my father wrote back that neither he, my mother, or my siblings knew who Dane Bell was, and wanted no contact with said person forever. He disowned me, and disavowed that I'd ever been his son. It . . . it was difficult to read."

"Then why do you keep this photo?" Shawnie asked. "Isn't it painful?"

I nodded and took the photo back from Abby, tucking it back into my wallet. "Sometimes, our pain is what shapes us. I keep it because somewhere inside me is hope. Hope that some day, maybe I can redeem myself in my father's eyes, and I can be accepted back into my family. So far, though, no such luck."

"Have you tried to contact them?" Abby asked. "You were pretty determined to contact me."

"I write my parents every month," I said. "So far, all these years, every single one has been sent back marked 'Return to Sender.' I'll keep writing, though. Stamps are pretty cheap, and I don't have their email or Facebook accounts."

"And are you still living with Chris Lake?" Abby asked. "In that apartment?"

I nodded. "I am, but I have a job now, working at Lake Ford. It's not much, just sweeping the repair bay and hauling stuff here and there, but it's a start. As soon as I can, I'm going to find my own place. The amenities may not be as nice, but I'll be standing on my own two feet again."

"Why’d you stay with Chris, anyway?" Shawnie asked. "I guess that also has something to do with Atlanta."

"Chris, Lloyd and I were in the same team in the 101st. Chris was our team leader. He'd enlisted nearly a year before I did. Afterward, he was the only guy who stayed in contact with me, and when he got out, he continued to send me the occasional letter. So after his father died and he inherited half-ownership of the Lake Automotive Group, he said that when I got out, to look him up in Atlanta. He's let me stay at that apartment, lent me some cash while I tried to find my own job, and when that didn't pan out, he hooked me up with the job at Lake Ford. Of all the people in the world, he was the only one who didn't toss me aside like a piece of trash after what happened to Lloyd. That's why."

Abby looked like she was about to say something about Chris, then closed her mouth. She looked down at the table, then at Shawnie, asking her a question without speaking swords.

"I think you've made up your mind already," Shawnie said with a smile. "On the good side, I've listened to every word he's said, and either he's been totally honest, or he's the world's best liar, in which case you spent the night with a sociopath."

I was still staring at the table when I felt the soft, sorely missed touch of her fingers on my hand, tenderly touching the back of it. I looked up to see Abby's eyes gazing into mine.

"Before you two get doe-eyed, I've got one more question, just for curiosity's sake," Shawnie said. “What’d you do all those years in prison?”

I looked over and smiled. "You have a lot of spare time, that’s for sure. You can either spend it staring at the walls, staring at a television, or trying to better yourself. I tried to use my time to make myself better. Some studying and a lot of reading.”

“Okay, I lied. One last thing, then I'll shut up. What sort of toppings do you think I should get for the tater tots that you're buying for me?"

I laughed and looked at the menu. "If it were up to me, I'd go with the chili and cheese."

"That seals it. You’re a keeper," Shawnie said with a chuckle, patting Abby on the shoulder. "He has my seal of approval. You can kiss your boyf . . . whatever it is you want to call him."

"Actually, I had one more question," Abby said. "About Chris . . . how close are you two?"

The same look that was on her face when I mentioned Chris earlier came over her, and I tilted my head. I figured it was a bit of uncomfortableness over the fact that he and I were friends while he was an ex-boyfriend. Even if it had been years, there were rules that some people followed about that issue. "I owe him a lot. He gave me a home, a job, and loyalty when the rest of the world turned their backs on me. But, if you're worried about how he'd react, I think it wouldn't be a problem. He's moved on. Is it a problem?"

Abby shook her head, then lowered her head. "Dane, I feel like I have to say first that… "