Chapter 20

Hello everyone,

I would just like to thank everyone for your patience and understanding over the last couple of weeks. For those who are friends with me on FB, I appreciate your encouraging words and prays for my family during this trying time.

Okay, now for Broken Wings. I would like to just start by saying before I started writing this story, I did a bit of research pertaining to LIFE in prison. When you google LIFE sentences in prison you will find the max years for a life term is 16 years, and you will also find most of the inmates given life, actually don't serve their whole term. This is not something I just made up for Broken Wings.

So, I started this story based off of research, and I continue to do research about getting Edward's charges lessened. While it will not give him the time, he served in prison back, it will cut the severity of the charges. With that said, I do hope you all continue to enjoy this story.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following.

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Edward sat on the front porch staring out over the lake before him. Sunlight danced in little diamonds across the water as the waves gently lapped the shore. A flock of geese honked in the distance, one spreading his wings, angrily chasing another away, his webbed feet grazing the surface of the murky depths. A breeze sifted across the land, rustling the branches of low hanging oaks scattered around the property, yet Edward noticed little of what was happening around him.

Edward propped his elbow on the chair, and his fingers skimmed the flesh of his chin as his mind drifted. No matter what he did, he would never overcome the stigma of his past. Pulling that trigger had subjected him to a life of misery; nothing would ever be right again.

Lifting the Bud Light to his lips, he took a long drink before settling his arm, tapping the bottle on the plastic component of the chair. With a feeling of utter numbness—ha—numbness—you would think it would be something you didn't actually feel, yet that was far from the truth. It was like a weight resting heavily on his chest, making breathing almost impossible—and while there was no tangible pain, the ache was overpowering on so many levels, and Edward couldn't escape the dread filling him.

Shaking his head, he turned to stare at the trunk of the tree. A robin flew past, settling on the branch overhead, cocking his head this way and that as he watched Edward intently. Curiously, he chirped as if he also had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Edward humorously chuckled at the bird, "I will gladly trade positions with you, any day of the fucking week … any day …"

At the moment, he had no desire to see the beauty around him. Suddenly, he longed for the comfort of that cell he'd walked free from two years ago. The walls had been blank, cold, and dank, and there'd been nothing … nothing for eight long fucking years. Currently, it seemed that cell could provide something Edward would never find in his natural life.

There at the prison, he'd been left to his misery. He didn't have to think of being accepted or needed. He didn't have to worry about being the perfect human being—didn't have to look at the people around him and pretend to be anything other than what he was.

As Edward's lashes fell to rest on his cheeks, his nostrils flared as that intense ache throbbed to life in his chest, reminding him he wasn't quite as hollow as he wished he was. He held his breath, trying to take the sting away, yet it only seemed to pulse even harder, threatening to burst.

"I hereby sentence you to life in Georgia State Prison," Judge Riley concurred, smacking the gavel on the sounding block. "Sheriff, take the prisoner from the courtroom."

Edward could barely turn his head to look at his family seated behind him. The sound of their gasps echoed in his ears, yet through a daze, he became mildly aware of throwing a fleeting glance in their direction.

His mother looked aghast, her complexion dropping several shades as she watched the sheriff step toward the table. Alice sat holding her mid-section, tears sliding down her cheeks, while Emmett's arm rested across her shoulders. His dad, ever the optimistic, offered a reassuring smile, saying, "Everything will be okay, Edward. We will appeal the court's decision … As soon as I leave, I will go to every lawyer in Georgia."

Those were the last words he heard from his family before the sheriff reached his side. Stiff fingers dug into his bicep as the officer guided him slowly toward the door of doom. Dread filled him as he made the walk, his ability to move severely impaired by the shackles around his ankles and the cuffs strapped to his wrists.

Staring at the floor, tears dripped from his nose, lost on the tile at his feet. Edward swallowed, discovering a dry and achy throat as he pushed through the door and down the long narrow hallway. The trek seemed to take forever before he came to the door leading outside, the hot Georgia sun shining brightly, taking his sight as the structure opened.

Glaring against the white burst of light, Edward attempted to raise his hands to block the blinding rays, yet the chain linking the cuffs to the shackles made it impossible. A hard grip on his elbow directed him toward the van awaiting him, and he vaguely recalled the sheriff's gruff voice as he climbed in the back as he said, "Was it worth it, son?"

Edward sniffed the tears away, brushing his eyes on the orange jumpsuit he wore as he focused on the officer. His chin lifted with a stubborn tilt as his jaw clenched. Without any hesitation, he gave a nod, "You bet your ass … wouldn't change a thing."

"Might think differently in a few …"

The drive to the prison would be the last silence he'd relish for quite some time, Edward soon discovered as he was led and pushed toward the jail. The guards urged him to move faster, yet the shackles made movement nearly impossible, so Edward was left to stumble along the yard until he reached the gate. With a nightstick in hand, a guard jabbed him hard in the thigh, urging him through the opening.

Edward's jaw clenched, and he shot the guard a menacing glare. The stick was brought across his back hard enough to cause a sting. The muscle in his temple worked as he contemplated trying to defend himself. Last-minute, he decided against making a stand against the police, even as rage burned hot in his chest.

Roughly, he was guided around to collect his belongings—or what was now his belongings, consisting of another orange jumpsuit, whites, toothbrush, and shower slippers. A blanket the thickness of a sheet of paper was piled on top of everything he carried until he came to stand outside a plain brown door.

A hard hand dropped on his shoulder, pushing him into a chair. "Sit."

There he sat until the door flew open, and bruising fingers dug into his arm. "Stand."

Once he came to his feet, Edward was shoved into a room the size of his closet back home. He was taken aback when the guard unlocked the cuffs and shackles. As the trappings fell away, the guard gave his shoulder a shove. "Strip."

Edward looked at the man as if he'd grown a second head. They couldn't possibly mean for him to get bared ass naked here—could they?

"Either take the fucking jumpsuit off, or I'll do it for you."

Ever-so-slowly, Edward worked on the buttons holding the hideous fabric together, and the material parted. Once the buttons were released, he shrugged free of the sleeves, leaving his chest bare to the waist. Goosebumps rippled across his skin, causing his nipples to pucker, and an involuntary shiver claimed him. Clenching his jaw, he stopped the rattle of his teeth as pressure body heat escaped him. When he hesitated at the buttons leading to his crotch, the guard promoted him to continue with another push.

Baring himself before those guards had been the most humiliating experience of his life. That had become his life for eight consecutive years. Every single day … all day, no fucking privacy. Yet when he was in his cell, it was his own world. How many stories had he created while spending countless hours locked in that room? How many faraway places had he discovered while his mind drifted, trying to escape the monotony that became his life?

Breakfast … Lunch … Dinner … Fucking chaos everywhere. Deafening noise … Movie nights on Friday … Fucking repeat … Everyday … Same thing … Repeat … Everyday … Breakfast … Lunch … Dinner … Chaos everywhere … Deafening noise … Repeat … Everyday …

While the time had been repetitious as fuck, at least, he knew exactly what would happen. When he stated he was in prison for murder, no one batted an eye. Hell, some people feared him, yet that only seemed to work for his benefit because no one really fucked with him. However, others seemed to respect him on a whole new level, especially when they found out the entire story.

So, unlike the real world, where he had to face persecution every single day. There were no whys, hows, whens, or wheres … Just instant judgment… instant judgment from all around, he scoffed, kicking the floorboards beneath his feet. Just like the gavel ten years ago, BAM, sentenced to fucking life all right. The condemnation hadn't ended upon his release either. It was a constant red flag he carried like a big fat bullseye.

His lashes flickered open until he was once again staring across the lake. Lifting the bottle to his lips, Edward rolled the tension from his muscles as he swallowed the contents. When the last drop trickled across his tongue, he pushed the empty bottle across the side table. He was about to move free from the chair with a heavy sigh when the sound of an approaching vehicle caught his attention.

Carlisle, his father, one of the best men he knew. Edward settled his weight back in the chair and watched as his dad climbed from his car and strolled with purpose up the lane. Carlisle was the epidemy of optimism and wise beyond his years. Edward's gaze rolled over his dad's sable hair to his razor-sharp nose, noticing the slight press of his thin lips as he climbed the steps and leaned against the railing. "How are you feeling today?"

"Like a million fucking dollars," Edward stated sarcastically as his gaze rolled toward the aqua sky. "Honestly, I feel like I've been hit by a truck, and I'm just scattered all over the road. You know, I should've followed my first instinct and stayed in that house. I should've never taken the chance. How many times do I need to be knocked down before I just fucking stay there?"

"Edward, don't talk like that," Carlisle reasoned, shaking his head. It was tough to encourage his son to see past his indiscretions when they kept coming back to smack him in the face. "We did talk to Bella … She understands now, and I believe she would like to see you. She was pretty upset last night when Alice told her everything."

"Yeah, well, she should've let me explain when I tried to do that a couple of days ago." Edward's fingers slid over his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm tired of having to defend myself to the entire world. I shouldn't have to worry about doing that with people I've formed a relationship with, Dad. It's the same thing every time. The shock and detachment that enters someone's eyes. And let's not even talk about the disgust."

Carlisle shifted against the rail. "Edward, stop, just stop. You have every right to feel the way you do about being judged. I get that …. I do. I am mostly one hundred percent on your side with this, but that is only for one reason. You killed Jason to avenge what that animal did to your sister and to protect others. I know that … your family knows that … but every day, people don't know that. Bella didn't know that. So, really, you can't fault her for how she reacted to the news. Hell, if some random person informed me they'd been convicted of murder, I'd be skeptical too."

Edward gnawed on his bottom lip as he contemplated what Carlisle said. During his stint in prison, he'd come across every type of character this world had to offer. People who killed for just the fucking fun of it. Some because they felt slighted or because they were on smack. His gaze roamed over the floorboards as he silently agreed with his father.

Bella had a right to be apprehensive before knowing the facts. As the knowledge settled in his mind, the pressure in his chest eased as he regarded his father, and his head tilted. "So, what do I do now? Just move on and act as nothing happened?"

"You go home and pick up the pieces. You fix what you can and forget about the things you can't," Carlisle stated, straightening his spine. "You will come across people who will never understand what you did … but you will find just as many who will think it justified. Yet the only one who continues to punish you is you."

That was a tough pill to swallow, Edward decided as another weight shifted off his chest, and he could finally draw a deep breath. For the first time in a couple of days, the corner of Edward's mouth lifted as he glared toward his dad. "Why didn't you say that years ago?"

Carlisle reached out and kicked the tip of Edward's shoe, and his lashes fluttered as he regarded his son. "Because you weren't ready to hear it then. Why don't you get your stuff and quit licking your wounds and go home?"

Just to be stubborn, Edward dropped his dad's intense stare, letting the same frown fall across his lips. "Maybe I will, and maybe I won't."

"And maybe I will kick your ass until you finally listen," Carlisle laughed. "What is it with kids? It doesn't matter what their parents say; they never wanna listen. Plus, I believe Bella's father would like to talk to you."

The mention of the cop gave Edward pause, alarm shooting across his face, and his brow drew tight. "Why would he want to talk to me?"

"Apparently, he thinks you might have gotten a raw deal." Carlisle watched hope come to life in Edward's silver eyes. "While he can't give you the time you spent in prison back, he can possibly help lower the charges with an appeal to the court—especially if the judge was biased like he thinks."

"So," Edward started, glancing around the front yard. "What does that mean?"

"I don't really know, Edward," Carlisle shrugged with a laugh. "Let's go talk to a lawyer and find out. But first … I want you to go find a certain young woman and see what happens."

The mention of Bella had his insides going warm and fuzzy. Was she willing to look past what he was and give him a chance to prove he wasn't the monster she'd thought? Flashes of their last few encounters caused the hair to raise on his arms and a tingle to zip up his spine. Would he now be free to embrace her without the dead weight of the past resting on his shoulders? His muscles drew tight with anticipation, and he sprang to his feet, anxious to get home.

"Might as well chill," Carlisle said as he watched Edward hurry around the cabin, his preparation to leave. "She's at work today … and will probably be there until at least five. Don't be driving all crazy on that deathtrap. Just take your time getting home … Maybe go talk to Charlie and see what he has to say."

Edward threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys. The thought of seeing Bella lit a fire inside him. All he wanted to do was reach home as fast as possible … and see her. "You know, you could do your favorite son a solid and let the said woman off work early."

"I would, but her favorite patient isn't doing so well today," Carlisle informed, following Edward down the driveway. "She probably wouldn't leave anyway. She'd just sit with him. I warned her about getting too involved with patients but just couldn't stop her. It reminds me of your mother, always wanting to fix things, even when there's no hope."

Lester. Edward remembered Bella talking about the older man on several occasions. He knew when the inevitable happened, and Lester passed, Bella was going to be torn to shreds. Shaking his head, he licked dry lips, and he climbed onto his bike and settled the helmet on his head. "So, there is no hope of him getting better?"

"Edward, the man, is eighty," Carlisle pressed his lips before continuing, "we're just doing what we can to make him comfortable. Soon that won't be enough."

"Damn," Edward muttered as his father climbed into the car and started the engine. Carlisle's fingers lifted off the steering wheel as he waved goodbye. Edward felt his eyes mist as he watched his father leave. His father was an amazing, selfless person, and sometimes it rocked him to the core. Forcibly, Edward pushed the emotion away as he started his bike with only one thought on his mind.

He couldn't wait to fucking see her. She'd given him new hope. He chuckled as he recalled seeing her play with Luke in the yard that first day. Now, he could envision being a part of that scenario. Just the thought of pulling her into his arms had his heart pounded as he threw his bike in gear and sped toward home.

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Thanks to Frannie Walsh for beta'ing this chapter at a moments notice so that it wouldn't be too late. Thanks for reading, and come back soon.