Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“S-sorry,” I muttered, not knowing where to look. He had menacing tattoos all over his face, images of guns and knives adorned his neck and half of his earlobe was missing with a jagged, healed scar that made it look like it’d been bitten off. I’d always been so smug, so self-assured – on the outside at least – but being in here made me realize just what a scared little boy I really was.
“Richardson!” I turned around towards the sound of my name being barked across the room. Officer Patterson summoned me over with a wave of his hand and so I put my empty lunch tray back and headed over to him, cursing to myself the whole time that I would now be at the back of the queue and would only have the option of the dregs.
“Richardson, you’re wanted in the governor’s office.”
Wordlessly, I nodded and followed him. Was this when they told me I had no chance of ever getting out? Had someone seen the knife in my room? Or was he going to tell me I was being moved into a cell with the freaky arsehole who almost punched my lights out for nudging him? Nerves swelled in my throat when we reached the office. I’d been here long enough to know you were only summonsed to the governor’s office if you were in deep shit or getting transferred out of here.
“Ryder,” Governor Smith greeted, proffering his hand towards the chair opposite his desk. “Take a seat.”
Coughing once to clear my throat, I sat.
“I need to go through these papers with you. You’re being released today.”
“I’m what?” I urged, jolting back in my chair, completely stunned and unsure I’d heard correctly.
“Being released. Getting the hell out of here. Going home, however you want to put it.”
“But…how? Why?”
“All charges against you have been dropped. It’s not my job to know why. If you want to know any more then you need to take it up with your solicitor, but I’d suggest you just sign these papers and don’t look back instead.”
“So, what? I can just…leave?”
“Once you’ve signed these and arranged someone to pick you up, then yes.”
In a complete haze, I took the ballpoint pen he was offering me and signed the papers on the desk without even bothering to read through them. What was happening didn’t make any sense to me. My solicitor had already told me the evidence was too strong to not be believed.
“Officer Patterson, escort Ryder back to his cell to collect his things and then you’re free to begin the discharge process. Any questions before you go?” he addressed me.
“Um, n-no. Thank you,” was all I could think to say. “Thank you.”
I walked back to my cell feeling numb. I couldn’t quite grasp the fact I was leaving. Sure, I’d not been in here long, but already the thought of being out in the open, being free to wander wherever I wanted stabbed me with a sense of vulnerability. I knew I would call Mason to come and pick me up, but I was already panicking about how he’d react to me, or me to him. I was a mess. My body and my mind completely fucked.
But most of all, I was ashamed.
It was only when I reached my cell I realized I didn’t actually have any belongings to take with me. There were the toiletries and cigarettes that Mason brought in for me, but I decided to leave those behind for Razz. I can’t say we became friends, but he left me to myself and didn’t cause me any grief so that made him a decent guy in my opinion.
“I’m done,” I announced, turning to Officer Patterson. “There’s nothing here I need to take.”
“Okay then, this way,” he said, stepping aside so I could pass him. He overtook me and led me across the landing, down the metal stairs and to the reception area.
After having to wait under the watchful eye of another officer for twenty minutes, I was taken into the back room and given the clothes I arrived in. I wrinkled my nose when they were placed in my hands, the smell of stale alcohol, sweat and tobacco invading my senses. Before I could change I had to be stripped and searched. The officer conducting the search eyed up the cuts on my leg suspiciously, raising his eyebrow, but then seemingly dismissed it. Probably wasn’t worth the paperwork. Finally, I was watched while I re-dressed myself in my own clothes, before being taken back out front.
The belongings that were confiscated from me the day I was brought in were waiting for me on the desk in a clear bag - my jewelry, wallet, phone and even the couple of half-empty packets of gum. Next, after signing yet more papers, a corded phone was pushed towards me.