Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I knew I’d lost him for good, and with that, I lost myself. I would never be Joey, Gage’s Jojo, ever again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Gage
Everything went quicker than I would have expected after that, only a few months. They wanted to make an example of me—the cop killer. It didn’t matter that Joey told them about the abuse, or that it was clear his dad had attacked us that night. There was no evidence of previous abuse from his father, only Joey’s word, the boyfriend of the man who killed his father. And mine, of course, but I didn’t count.
I was charged with murder. My court-appointed lawyer had tried to get the charges dismissed, but it was a losing battle from the start. We eventually pleaded down to voluntary manslaughter, what they called imperfect self-defense. Still, I knew they would give me the maximum sentence. Nothing mattered to them other than the fact that I had taken a baseball bat to a police officer’s head. That I was the town trash, who’d gotten into fights at school and had taken out one of theirs.
They gave me eleven years in the California State Prison System.
It was horrible—the jeers from other inmates, the fear, the shame when they searched me, naked, a finger inside me. I didn’t cry, though, not again. Not after that moment on the floor of Jojo’s bedroom. I wouldn’t let them see me break. I wouldn’t let anyone think I was weak. I would steel myself to survive.
I wasn’t Mouse’s or Romeo’s hero anymore.
I wasn’t Jojo’s boyfriend, his Gage.
I would be hard. I was a murderer now. I had to be.
It didn’t surprise me when the first day I could have a visitor, Jojo was there. His eyes were ringed red, so I knew he’d been crying.
“Don’t,” I said when a tear leaked out. If he cried, I wouldn’t be able to hold it back. When something hurt him, it hurt me, and I couldn’t afford that here. Even more importantly, I didn’t want a reminder of what I did to him. “Please…don’t. Not here. I can’t.”
Joey nodded, wiped his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. We were at a small round table, sitting across from each other. I was handcuffed. We weren’t allowed to touch.
“Not your fault. I’m the one who did it.”
“For me.” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes. “For me. Because I wasn’t strong enough and you had to take care of me.”
I didn’t reply. Couldn’t. If I opened my mouth, I would tell him I loved him. I would beg him not to go. I would break, and if I broke, if I didn’t close myself off, steel my emotions, I would never survive this, and that would kill him. I didn’t care about me; only him.
“I’ll wait for you. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”
The thing was, I knew he would, and it made my chest expand. He loved me. No matter what, he loved me. I wanted to beg him to wait. I wanted to be with him forever. I wanted to tell him I loved him and that he was right, that we should have run because at least we would have had more time together, but I didn’t.
Because my life was ruined, his didn’t have to be. He was always destined for better things than I was. Jojo would make a difference in the world. He would do good things…if he wasn’t waiting for me.
I didn’t want him to lose his dreams because I fucked up. I didn’t want him to not leave for college or to spend those years pining for me. I wanted him to know love and sex and happiness. I wanted to set him free. He deserved to be free.
“You should go,” I said, even though the words almost killed me.
Jojo flinched. “What? Why? We have more time. I want to spend all the time I can with you.”
“But I don’t…not anymore,” I lied.
Almost vomited.
Hated myself.
“What?” His eyes filled with wetness. “I’ll be stronger. You won’t have to take care of me anymore. I’ll take care of you.”
It was exactly what I feared. He blamed himself. As much as it hurt, I could use that. It would hurt, but he would be better for it later. “I don’t want to take care of you, or for you to take care of me. I’m done, Jojo. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want you to ever come back here. Tell Mouse and Romeo the same. I don’t want to see any of you ever again.”
“Gage.”
“I don’t want you! Don’t you get that?” The words nearly broke me, or maybe they did. I knew I would never be the same again.
He was openly crying now, and I wanted to tell him I took it back, that I was sorry, that I loved him. He was the best thing about me. He always had been and always would be, but I needed to set him free. I couldn’t be his Gage anymore, not after this.