Page 57 of Wrecked By You

Kayla crossed her arms. “What are you going do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to. I really want to.”

Ella smiled at me. “What would you do if this was someone you loved?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning.

Ella sighed. “Would you stand up for Damon?”

I sputtered out a laugh. “If someone beat the crap out of him? Well, yeah.” All of a sudden, warmth surged through me, and I knew what I had to do.

Kayla put her hand over mine. “Right. Stand up for yourself. You deserve it.”

“Have you prayed about it?” Nora asked.

My heart fluttered. “I have been praying about it, but I think I just got my answer. Thank you. All of you.”

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I called Damon.

He answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

I laughed upon hearing the eagerness in his voice. “Hello.”

“Did you have a good night tonight?”

“Had a great night. Did you?”

“Well, yes, but I missed seeing you.”

My heart softened. “I missed seeing you, too. But I got an answer to something.”

“What is that?”

“I’m going to speak at the parole hearing.”

“Good.” He sounded proud of me. “You know I’ll be right by your side.”

I sighed, feeling like this was the right thing to do. “I’ll count on it.”

Twenty-Six

Damon

I wasn’t expecting to be so nervous when Isla and I pulled up to the prison together. It was a forty-mile drive, and I’d been totally comfortable with her doing it. Yet now, as we walked inside together and checked in, I worried about her. I worried about what this would do to her if her father got out.

A guard led us to a room where the hearing was being held. There were four people at the front of the room. We sat in the front row. Her mother sat a couple of chairs away and glared at us. Finally, her father was escorted inside and taken to the front of the room.

The person conducting the meeting turned and asked who would like to say anything in regard to her father.

Her mother stood up and began saying all these good things about her father. How he’d supported their family. How he was a good husband. She continued until I just wanted to walk out.

Finally, the person in charge asked if anyone else would like to say anything.

For a long time, Isla didn’t move, only stared at her feet.

I looked at her father, who was staring at her. I wanted to shield her, move in front of her or something. I glared at him, but he wouldn’t look at me.

“I’m sorry, Isla,” her father said. He didn’t sound very sorry to me.