Wrongful Conviction

Empty Threats and Secrets

"Not much." Curtly and coldly he responds, eyes focused on the wall. Peter carefully makes his way to the bed.

"Look, I know you don't like me. I know she lied to you. Honestly, you're fuckin' lucky, bro. She's amazing and smart and deserves to be treated like a queen; and we need to level. I'm out because I served my time for some shit I pulled. I have taken those consequences, but for some people it isn't enough. Federal courts are trying to make a case to put me away for life; for killing someone I didn't kill. It's like vacation, before death row. Okay? I'm gonna be put away for life. You gotta be there, you gotta keep her calm and keep her sane. She'll lose it, and I'm trying to keep my distance because I don't wanna hurt her any more than I already have. She's all I got. She's the only person who was with me that night, who knows I didn't do it. She'll fight with every breath in her. I know it because I'd do it for her. Look. Sorry for rambling, but you need to know this. I can't tell her. Not yet, anyway." He gets Jarred's attention and this new expression crosses his face. This mountain of a human being seems so humble, that her well-being could bring him to his knees. His stony eyes glisten with tears, unshed but trying to escape. Clearing his throat, he runs a hand over his eyes before he continues.

"I know you probably think its cowardly, but I can't tell her yet. You saw how excited she was. How happy she was to be able to hug me? You might not understand it, but she's been coming to see me for about two and a half years, and we've been talking on a phone through glass. To be able to hug her, to be able to hear her voice without the white noise in the background was the best gift I could get, bro. Don't tell her though. Okay?" He asks, and Jarred sticks out a hand to him and tips him a nod. They had an agreement. They would keep as much of this away from her as possible. She comes shrieking into the bedroom, slamming the door and leaning against it with all her weight. A huge grin keeps her eyes twinkling as she heaves for breath, hiding from the other two; they assumed. Peter gives a sad smile to Jarred before he stands and gives a chuckle, holding the door against them.

"On three we let go?" She and Peter used to do this all the time and she laughs harder. They silently count to three, and on three they both move away in time for the door to fly open and for the two boys to come toppling in on the floor in a heap.

"You guys suck!" They shout, standing and giving her a dark grin. Giving a squeal of excitement, she races out the door and they chase after her; Peter and Jarred left alone once again.

"So you won't say anything?" He asks gently as he leans out the door.

"No man, I won't tell her. You're awesome for doing what you're doing. You'll tell her eventually, right?" He asks with a nod of encouragement. Peter gives a hard nod and walks back to his room to contemplate how he would tell her and when. It was a dark secret to keep from her, and he knew it. But as he'd told Jarred, he couldn't ruin her happiness. Her squealing and giggling filling the house was like they were teens again all rough-housing through the house.

"You three take that outside!" He laughs as his mama's voice echoes through the entire house. He falls asleep thinking of how he would tell her.

She, Peter, and her ma are the first three up and they all sit on the couch in comfortable silence. "Hey, can I talk to you?" He asks softly, looking up from her coffee. She looks up at him with a sweet, sleepy smile and a gentle nod of assurance. "I've already told everyone else; including Jarred-- I really like that ponytail." He smiles, chuckling softly and trying to stand up. He couldn't do it, he couldn't tell her. He knew if he told her it would only send her into another fit. It could destroy this aura around them, the euphoria they both are feeling. Her touch was worth every fight, her voice, hearing it without muffling glass or echoing was priceless. He knew that he'd made the right deal. They offered for him to give her up; tell them who really killed Stanton. He told them to make their case, he would wait. Neither he nor Aisleigh touched Stanton, but the DEA wanted someone booked for the murder so they'd pin it on the only person nearly related to the crime. He would take the fall before he would lie to the police and get her into trouble.

"Oh really? Please... Tell me what's really going on." She laughs, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I can't tell you. Not right now. It's a surprise." Again with that dazzling smile, he lightens the mood with a little white lie to diffuse her curiosity. "I'll tell you as soon as I can. Okay? It's all good Boo. Don't worry." He coos, standing and sauntering away from them to fill another cup of coffee. He sits back down and covers one of her hands with his own, sighing deeply with contentedness. He couldn't remember the last time he had touched her soft skin; actually he could. It was almost three years ago. When the police arrived to take him away he remembered how she had screamed and cried and begged them; and how painful it was to be ripped away from her. He remembered how she grabbed him for the last embrace, and how tightly she held onto him. She screamed at the top of her lungs while his brothers held her back, she couldn't help but quake with rage as she tried to get to him. She had thrashed back and forth as they dragged him away. His heart twinges as the memory plagues him. He knows though, that soon she'll be doing that same thing by the end of her stay. There are people putting together as much crude evidence to prove that he killed someone he didn't kill.

"Will you just tell me?" She asks, and again, he stays quiet, careful to keep her happy. "Okay, well I have to drive home today for a party of sorts at my office; I was wondering if you'd possibly wanna go?" Giving a deep chuckle, he looks to her with a soft, sweet smile.

"I'd love to, but don't you think maybe your fiance should go?" He retorts with playful sarcasm. His remark is met with a little pat to his shoulder and half scowl from her.

"I'm free to do as I please, thank you." She grabs the corner of the blanket and pulls it closer to her. Jarred finally makes his appearance for the morning, scrubbing the sleep from the corners of his eyes.

"Hey honey, I've gotta head out early. The boss wants us at the office by noon today. You ask Peter about that office thing?" He asks, slinging his messenger bag over a shoulder. Ma is quick to fix him some toast with raspberry jam and a coffee to go, before letting Aisleigh walk him out. The change in the air had not gone unnoticed by her between the two men.

"Hey, what's going on with Petey?" She shrugs, pecking his cheek.

"What do you mean? He seems fine to me."

"What were you two talking about last night?" She prods, but is only met with a sickly loving glance and quick kiss before he leaves her to her own devices. She ponders and ponders what the two had talked about; it bothered her for the rest of her time before she and Peter loaded up into her car and she started the trek home. As they drive passed the prison, she can't help but smile so widely and pat Peter's hand. "We did it." She murmurs, never glancing away from the road.

"Yeah." He mutters, looking out the opposite window. His guts turn at the thought that soon enough he would be returned to the very prison he had just gotten away from; his heart drops to the floor when he sees the huge grin smack in the middle of her face. Anger wells within his stomach again, and he pulls his hand away to grab his phone.

"Why can't you just tell me what's going on?" She prods as they start to pull off the expressway.

"Because I can't." He growls, breathing in slowly and exhaling slowly to calm his nerves. Keeping his hardships from her seemed to be much more difficult as he used to tell her everything; gory details of hookups to what pranks he played on his brothers, even in prison he confided in her every fight and whose fault it was, and how he'd killed a man in self-defense.

"I just don't understand why not. You've told me everything; and now all of a sudden I can't know? You're scheming something, or going back to prison..." She mutters the last part under her breath and moves on without a second thought; though she already figured it out. All the air escapes his lungs and he has to hide the deep breath he sucks in to keep from exploding.

"Drop it! Okay?" He barks, twiddling his thumbs together to keep from losing his temper. They pull into her house to see the contractors working away. She stalks up the front steps but is quickly met by the main contractor.

"Hey! A guy dropped off these flowers for ya. Said it was from Cell D16 from a prison on the north east side of the island." He hands her the bouquet and heads back to work. She pulls the notecard out and reads 'I know he did it. He'll pay for his mistakes. Or you'll both die. D16,' and she feels this deathly chill fall over her as Peter walks up next to her, peering over her shoulder for a split second.