There's a loud bang of metal on metal, and I sit up suddenly, looking at the sliver of light coming through my room door, "Coulter, get your ass over here and put your arms out for cuffs!"
I wipe the sleep from my eyes before slipping my feet into my slides. I put my arms out as requested, and once the cuffs are on I step back so the door can open. I am patient while the men chain my wrists and ankles and when they yank me from the room I do my best to keep up with their brisk pace. I'm escorted to a conference room and I see a man with an expensive suit sitting inside, idly scrolling through his phone.
I watch him as they unchain me, and his eyes never meet mine. Once the guards have shoved me in a chair across from him and left the room, he finally looks up.
"Good morning Eric, my apologies for the early arrival, but this prison is quite difficult with scheduling time with their segregated inmates. My name is Silas Roundtree, I'm an associate of Jack Kang's in Chicago." He reaches his hand across the table and I shake it.
"Eric Coulter," I reply in my sleep thickened voice.
"Coffee," He says as he slides a large covered cup over to me, "Miss Prior said extra cream and sugar, oh and she had me bring this breakfast too." He slides a bag over to me.
I take a grateful sip of the coffee, and it's damn near perfect. When I look inside the bag he brought, I find one cheese danish and a wrapped sandwich, "Thank you." I reply and he nods his head.
I take a bite of the bagel sandwich he's brought and look at him while he studies a file in front of him. His suit is tailored and expensive, his nails manicured and shiny, his hair freshly cut. He's wearing cufflinks that peek out of his sleeves and I take a glance under the table and find expensive leather shoes, gleaming as if he polished them on the way here.
"Mr. Roundtree, with all due respect, I'm not able to afford your services." I begin and he holds up a hand.
"It's Silas, and the fees aren't your concern." He shakes his head.
"Sir, I have no way to pay for any of this…"
"Mr. Coulter…"
"Eric."
"Eric, our services have been taken care of, you don't need to worry." He replies.
"Did Tris do this?" I ask.
"Eric, can we move forward to your case now?" He asks and I scowl. He takes a deep breath, "Tris and Jack have taken care of whatever fees there will be, it's not something you need to concern yourself with right now. What we do need to focus on are these serious charges that have been brought against you. I've been briefed by the public defenders who met with you yesterday, and I have reviewed your statement. Everything looks good, however we are hopeful that we can get the surveillance video soon to corroborate your statement."
"And if we don't get a video?" I ask.
He looks at me over his reading glasses, "Eric, do you have the names of anyone who may have seen what happened, and who would be willing to speak on your behalf?" He asks.
I had no friends in El Paso, outside of Bud, and he was already gone by the time this brawl happened. I take a deep breath and answer, "The best friend I had there was already dead at this time, and I didn't have any other true allies there."
"What about the peer program, you were a mentor, correct?" He asks and I nod, "Did any of them witness the attack?"
I close my eyes and shake my head, "They participated in it."
When I open my eyes, his bright blue ones are trained on me, "I see."
"Mr. Roundtree, Silas, this is bad, isn't it?" I ask.
"It's murder, Eric. There's nothing good about murder." He replies stoically.
We go over what happened, again, and he gives nothing away with his reactions. He takes down a few names of people who I know witnessed the attack, and he once again reminds me to stop worrying about his fees when I continue to pester him about it.
"Eric, I will be honest, without the video we have a tough case. It's not unwinnable, but it is going to be tough to prove your innocence if there is no one who will confirm your version of events."
"My version of events? I'm telling the truth, there's no version of events. There's the truth!" I shout.
He once again peers over his reading glasses at me, "And right now, it's their version of the truth versus yours. The state has several witnesses who name you as the guilty party. You have you."
"You don't believe me." I accuse.
"I never said that."
"Then tell me, do you believe I am telling the truth?" I demand.
"Regardless of what anyone believes, we need the video." He replies evenly.
His words are ringing in my ears when I'm sitting in my quiet room later.
"There's nothing good about murder."
I eat my dry sandwich in silence, but I hear the commotion in the hallway of another prisoner being locked in Ad-Seg. I try to look through the slot that's in my door, but they've taken whoever it is to the far, and opposite end of the hallway.
After that, it's no longer quiet in Ad-Seg.
Whoever's in here with me likes to yell, a lot. They try to get my attention, but I have no interest in whoever the fuck is in here now.
A bang on my door startles me again, "Coulter, cuffs."
This time, I'm lead down to another unfamiliar place, and I realize this is the visitation area for high risk prisoners.
How the fuck am I here?
Tris is on the other side of the plexiglass, just as I had expected. I take one look at her face, and I can see she's not sleeping again.
"Hey baby." She says once we're both on the phones.
"Hey." I reply quietly.
"I heard you met with Silas today, how'd that go?" She asks.
I look up at her through the glass, "Who's paying for him, Tris?"
She twists her face in confusion, "Why does that matter?" She asks.
"Because he comes in here with his expensive suit, his fancy leather loafers and perfect hands. A man like that costs thousands just to show up, and I don't have it."
"It doesn't matter if you have it, he's taken care of…"
"I don't want Jack's charity." I shout and I see her physically react.
"I think you have bigger things to worry about than who is paying your legal fees at the moment." She says firmly.
"I don't need an expensive lawyer to get a fucking video, Tris. I don't need your money, I don't need Jack's money. I just need someone to find the video so this shit is over."
"Why are we arguing about money right now? How is any of this going to help you get home?" She argues.
"That expensive ass lawyer that you and Jack sent here doesn't fucking believe me, Tris. He doesn't believe that I didn't murder a man. So he can go the fuck home, and so can you."
"Eric…"
"Miles needs you there. He's going to need you more than ever when his father gets convicted of fucking murder, Tris, because when that happens I die. He's going to need you and Jack to figure this shit out and be able to raise him…"
"Eric stop this, right now!" She yells and I finally look up at her. She has tears streaming down her face and her grip on the phone is so tight that her hand is shaking, "I believe you. We all believe you. Please stop this. Please don't give up."
"It's murder, Tris. This isn't me allowing myself to be sent to prison because I was scared and ashamed, this is actual murder. I have no one that was in this building when that shit went down who would testify on my behalf."
"Whatever happens, and whatever you do, you can't give up Eric. I talked to Silas after your appointment, and he believes in you. He, like the rest of your team, realize that getting their hands on the surveillance video is key in clearing you. Otherwise, they will work on plan B, which is to discredit the people who are saying you actually hurt that man. Your team is not giving up on you, and neither am I. I love you, I am committed to you, and I am here for you, always." She replies.
"I don't deserve you."
I'm pulled from my seat before I can complete my thought, and she looks on in horror as the guards drag me out of her view.
"What the fuck?" I buck against the guard.
"Time's up." He replies as he yanks my hands behind my back, "Play nice."
"A little warning would have been great, I didn't even get to say goodbye." I argue and then my face is pressed against the stone wall.
"You might as well just say goodbye for good, you're going down this time Coulter, and that hot little piece of ass you have visiting you will find someone else to raise that bastard kid of yours." He growls against my ear.
"Don't you dare mention my child…" I jerk against the guard and he just laughs.
"Miles, right? Don't worry, a girl who looks like her will have no problem finding a new daddy for him."
"Take me to my cell." I reply.
The other guard chuckles, but does pull his cohort off of me, and I'm roughly dragged down the hall again. I look over at the guard who pushed me, but there's nothing familiar about him. He just looks like every other asshole in this place.
The next evening, when I talk to Tris again I apologize for my behavior. She once again forgives me, and I'm again reminded of how lucky I am to have her.
Since I've been moved to Ad-Seg, I am limited to two personal visits per week, so most of my time with Tris is spent talking on the phone during our short phone calls. I also call Miles every time I can, and even though I feel incredibly guilty that I've taken his mother away from him, he is adamant that she's not allowed to come home until I am okay.
My lawyers have been putting pressure on the prison to release the surveillance video from the attack, but they continue to drag their feet. Silas was actually the one who tracked down the cloud storage service that the prison contracts all of their videos out to, and once he subpoenaed that company he began to get a bit more traction.
It took three weeks, but my legal team finally got the video from the cloud storage company, and it proved my story was true. The charges against me were dropped several days ago, yet I remain in Ad-Seg and there's been no answers to what we do from here.
The extradition to El Paso caused me to miss my parole hearing, my appeal case was also put on hold and my legal team couldn't even get me moved from Ad-Seg to Gen-Pop and I still spend over twenty hours a day locked in a cell. I've been given no additional visitation time, or personal phone time, and the guards keep fucking with me. It's my own personal hell.
I finally learned that the guard who seems to have the biggest problem with me is Peter Hayes' brother Trevor, who of course blames me for his brother's death. He spends most of his time trying to get into my head, and I've just been concentrating on my son and Tris to keep me from ripping this fucker's head off.
I'm eating my breakfast tray when I hear keys unlocking my door, and I watch as a guard and a woman I don't recognize enter my cell.
"Good morning Eric, my name is Davonne Collins, I am one of the assistants to the Warden of El Paso Regional Correctional Center." She says and she offers her hand, which I shake.
"Hello." I say warily.
"We have received an official notice from the Governor of Illinois that has granted you a full pardon. My staff has verified the validity of the notice, and I am here to gather some information from you so we can process your release." She says.
"Is this real?" I ask, looking from her to the guard who's standing at ease in my cell.
"It is. We have the authority to release you from El Paso instead of extraditing you back to Chicago. Do you have a next of kin here in El Paso who would be willing to pick you up today?" She asks.
"My girlfriend is here, she's also my son's mother, I don't know if that matters for relationship purposes…" I ramble and Miss Collins smiles.
"That will be fine, as long as she is willing to take on the responsibility." She smiles as she flips through a folder in her hands, "Is she Tris Prior?"
I nod, "Yes."
"I'll have our administration team contact her. Is there anything here in your cell that is personal to you?" She asks.
"My son's drawings, a couple of books and notebooks." I gesture towards the desk.
"Good, I will have those packed away. We need to get your sizes for street clothes. Shirt, jeans, shoes?" She asks.
"Extra Large shirt, thirty six, thirty four jeans, size twelve shoes." I rattle off.
"Your commissary was also transferred here, we will cash it out and distribute a check. Do you have any identification to cash a check, or shall we make it out to Tris Prior as well?" She asks.
"Yeah, Tris." I reply.
I cannot believe this is happening.
"Okay, you can come with me. We'll get everything taken care of so we can get you out of here. Congratulations Eric." She smiles.
"Thank you."
It takes about an hour, but I am given clothes to wear, an envelope with my books and papers from my cell, along with a box of personal grooming products that I had stored in the shower lockers. I'm following Davonne and when she opens a door I see Tris in a waiting room, signing some paperwork.
I walk over to her, feeling ecstatic and terrified at the same time, "Hi Tris," I say with a smile.
"Hi Eric, are you ready to go home?" She asks and I nod my head.
I shift everything to one arm and open the door for Tris, the sunshine is so bright and I follow her outside into a parking lot.
I stop walking and turn my face up to the sky, feeling the sunshine on my skin for the first time in years.
"I'm free." I say and I feel her put a hand in mine.
"You are," She agrees.