Prince in the City [Harry Styles AU]

Chapter 38

My grip on my steering wheel was tight as I drove, knuckles whitening with the radio playing music for some kind of distraction. My stomach was twisting uneasily since I woke up earlier this morning, never ceasing the uncomfortable movements and only intensifying as I got closer to the prison.

By the time I got there, it was like static in my mind, all thoughts flying out of my head as I absently and numbly walked inside, going through the process of walking through a metal detector and signing in and receiving my visitor's pass. Unlike being escorted to the single infirmary, I was taken to the room where all the inmates met with their visitors, and just as I entered the room, I saw my father entering through another doorway on the opposite side, separated by glass.

My throat worked nervously as his eyes met mine through the smudged glass, my mind unable to even acknowledge the few other inmates talking to people, and I sat down on the last seat by the wall as Dad did the same, wearing the grey jumpsuit with silver handcuffs tying his wrists together. I hadn't seen that sight since I was fifteen.

There was a smile on Dad's face as he sat down on the seat on the other side of the glass, my own lips pressed together as we both reached for the respective phones hung on the wall. "Hi, sweetheart," Dad greeted, a cautious smile on his face as he held the phone with both binded hands.

Though my throat was dry, I subtly cleared it before answering, "hi." I shifted in the hard plastic chair. "How are you?"

"Good, fine," he responded a bit breathlessly, and I think he may be in the same uncomfortable yet mild state of shock as I was in. "I'm glad you're here." I managed a small smile, left hand mindlessly playing with a thread at the hem of my shirt under the table. "I'm so—I just don't know how to properly express how sorry I am, Vera."

My throat worked at his words. Wow, guess we were diving right into it, then. Which, I think, was good in a sense. Might as well get it out all of the way sooner rather than later. "You all. . ." Dad sighed sadly, looking tired and defeated and guilty. "Your mom and you kids—you deserved better. I—"

"Why did you do it?" I muttered, my voice quiet yet firm as I asked the question, effectively causing Dad to press his thin lips together. "How did you get to the point where you thought selling drugs was a good idea?"

Dad's expression fell, his brows drawing together in almost helplessness and Adam's apple bobbing rapidly in his throat. He looked pained, and the cynical part of me thought good, then you'll know what I felt like for the past eight years. But I kept my lips pressed together, silently waiting for him to answer as I drowned out the conversations everyone else in the room was having.

"Work wasn't doing going well," he finally said, his tone quiet and ashamed though he kept his gaze even with mine. "We were losing more money than we were making and I got desperate. Found myself a dealer and we worked out an agreement to do it together."

I inhaled sharply at his words, even though I knew the reason why he did this in the first place. Mama had told us after getting it out of him, telling Xavier and I how Dad's pharmaceutical company wasn't doing well at all and instead of selling FDA approved drugs, Dad had turned to the more dangerous, addictive kind that landed him in prison for life without parole. But actually hearing it from him first hand sent my heart thudding almost painfully in my chest, grip on the phone tightening exponentially.

Swallowing inaudibly, I found myself asking, "what happened to the other guy? The one you made an agreement with?"

Dad's lips pressed together, gaze flickering away from mine for a moment as he hesitated in answering me. But when his eyes met mine once again, he confessed, "he's dead." The phone almost slipped from my hand. "Couple of years ago. He got killed in a yard brawl."