Tequila Shots

Chapter 11

"You can sit here," the officer ordered and I sat slowly on the stool, careful not to make any sound to avoid getting kicked out.

I waited approximately ten minutes before the door opened on the other side of the barrier and he walked in. I sat still, unmoving. I feared that if I moved too fast —or moved at all— I would be hit by a wave of emotions that I had been suppressing for years and I would drown in my pain. He looked feeble and frail like a wrinkly old man that had resigned to fate and was waiting for death to visit. He took slow steady steps, his hands in cuffs. The officer pointed him to where I was and immediately our eyes met, his glazed over. His eyes glimmered, filled with tears that refused to fall down his face. He looked happy to see me. He sat opposite me and I felt the tension go up two steps. I had not been in the same space with him in almost ten years. I just didn't know what to say. How to act. What to think. What to ask. I was blank and I really needed to know if it was okay to be empty and at a loss for words. It was a lot to process and it was harder knowing I had to get over my momentary daze because I didn't have a lot of visiting time.

"H-hello, Sam." he stuttered.

"Hi."

"Uhm... I'm glad you could come. Your mother called."

"Oh did she now?"

"Y-yeah..." he was nervous, I could tell by how he stuttered. "She called to inform me that you were going to drop by. A visitor can't just come here unannounced."

"Oh... I see. I had no idea. She didn't tell me I needed to call in advance."

"I totally understand. She tried to keep you away from this life as much as she could. I don't blame her. It's a very messed up place and environment," he sighed.

I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans, some of it getting on my exposed lap through the rip, and moistened my dry throat with saliva. Over the past few weeks of me returning back to shadow creek, I've lost count of times I was disconcerted and thrown off my game. I didn't have time to process all the change before being hit with my fears and doubts that I had struggled to push to the back of my mind over the past decade. From job insecurity to visiting my father, to anxiety about my future and life, to change of space; from the bustling, lively, vigorous city to shadow creek, a small town in the middle of nowhere. There was only so much that one could handle before it rubbed off on them the wrong way and I guess I just hadn't adapted to all the transitions.

"... well another thing she didn't tell me was you were in jail. The last time we talked, she told me you were in rehab. I don't want to believe she lied to me. Like h-how did this happen?" I asked. I felt a sob catch in my throat and I caught myself before I became as helpless as the woman who had been crying earlier. It was so easy to be overwhelmed by sadness in a space that was dispirited itself. It took a lot of willpower to be strong and collected.

His eyes grew darker. "I don't know... I really don't know. I understand why she would keep that from you. I got a good lawyer then that defended me good so I was sent to a specialty court where the judge gave me alternative sentencing of rehab so I didn't have to do jail time. Since I was a first offender, I was able to get that deal but the sheriff wanted me to do the highest time possible, I wouldn't blame him though, I really was a dickhead... he wanted me to do the highest time so I got 5 years rehab. Your mother was so terrified of me and he wanted me far away from her. I relapsed and kinda hurt someone while I was rehab and I got incarcerated so I have to do jail time," he explained.

That was a lot to take in and I didn't even know the meaning of half of what he said.

"Incarceration means taking away my freedom. Like I have to go to prison." he broke it down further.

"How bad was what you did?" I asked.

"Pretty bad," he looked down.

"So how long will you be in here for?"

"I don't know. My lawyer is trying to work out an agreement with the judge to see if I can go back to rehab but he says it'll be hard because of the gravity of my offense but it's not impossible though. That all he told me,"

I looked away. I just could bear to look at him for too long. I feared that I would become a hot mess of emotions and tears.

"Hey..." he called. "Sam, look at me."

I looked up slowly, still not meeting his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Sam. Really. You don't have to worry or be sad. Not anyone's fault but mine. I'm paying for my actions. It just was a rough time for me and I took to drinking. My fault. Your mother did all she could to help but I just took out my anger on her. I hurt her. I hurt our family and I deserve all of what's happening. I'll do my time here and keep on working on myself. I just wish you'd come see me often. I know it's too much to ask considering I wasn't in your life when you needed me the most. I wasn't a good father. I just wasn't enough," he finally broke down and his shoulders heaved as he cried.

It would've been easier to hate him. To think he didn't want to be in our lives. To think he didn't try and it wasn't the alcohol that had messed him up. To think he hurt Mum on purpose and assaulted Gray when he tried to stand up for her. It would just have been easy to comprehend if he had been a bad person. I just couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears poured down my face and I didn't bother wiping it.

"Hey..." I heard a voice call out to me. "Hey... wake up... Sam!"

I was jolted out of my reverie back to the present and I looked up to find the car parked at the side of the road with Brent towering over me.

"Are you alright? Fuck that, I don't think you are. You don't look okay. Ever since you came out of there, your mood dropped to a fucking low level and now you were fucking crying in your sleep."

I put my hands to my cheeks and felt the tears. I thought I was remembering how I had cried in the jail without realizing I was crying in reality.

"I wasn't sleeping... You're swearing... too much cursing... too much," I croaked.

"Okay, now I'm worried. What the hell is wrong, Sam? What or who did you meet in there that made you like this?" he tilted my head up to study my face.

There was just something about the way he held my face so gently like he genuinely cared and stared into my eyes like he was certain he would find the answer to his questions in there that made me lose all form of rationality and composure. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I burst into tears, letting out all the pent up frustration and emotions. I knew I would regret losing my shit later but fuck creating good impressions. I couldn't be okay all of the time and I really needed someone to see that I wasn't okay...
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A/N: Hey, lovelies! I was occupied this past week but had to keep my promise of consistency so one update this week.

Please share your thoughts with me below and let me know what you thought about this chapter. Thank you for the support so far and I hope we're all safe in quarantine. With Love, Vheevian ✨❤️