Grip Trilogy Box Set

Me.

This is the first time we’ve seen each other since the fiasco of Sunday dinner. This shit situation has hurdled any awkwardness between us. She knows I need her, and any differences we have we set aside at least for now.

“Are you okay?” She explores my arms and shoulders. “Did they hurt you?”

“Ma, this ain’t exactly Letter from Birmingham Jail.” I manage a weak chuckle. “The guards have been getting my autograph and taking selfies. They asked me to freestyle at breakfast. I’m good.”

“Good?” She rears back, running disparaging eyes over LA County’s standard issue blue scrubs. “This ain’t good, Marlon. I never thought I would see you here. Not you.”

“And I haven’t done anything to be here, so I’ll be out before you know it,” I tell her with more confidence than makes sense.

“You know I didn’t do this, right?” I dip to catch her eyes, not thinking I would even have to defend myself. Not to her. “Somebody set me up.”

“I heard.” Her glare is a laser cutting through any secrets I would keep from her. “I saw Bristol in the hall.”

I close off my expression. I can’t hear any shit she would say about the woman willing to sacrifice her dignity, her body, pieces of her soul to get me out of here. I can’t even wrap my brain around the money and power at Parker’s disposal. Abuses like these, he’s probably been inflicting his whole life.

When I get out of here, however it happens, I’ll make sure he regrets this one.

“She told me this is her fault.” Ma’s disapproval is palpable.

“It isn’t her fault,” I say impatiently.

“I know it isn’t the best time to bring it up,” she says, her elevated brows indicating it must be said. “But if you had stayed with Qwest, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“I don’t love Qwest, Ma.” I blow out a weary breath. “And I don’t need this right now.”

“You didn’t give her a chance. You could have—”

“I fell in love with Bristol years ago,” I break in. “In a week. Did you know that?”

I grasp her hands and press them to my heart. “She’s here, Ma. In my heart. In my head. I can’t get rid of her.”

I shake my head, a sad smile on my lips.

“I don’t want to. I want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way, like I’m only half alive when she isn’t here. There’s nowhere she could go I wouldn’t chase her. Have you ever felt that for anybody?”

Shock rounds my mother’s eyes, and her fingers tremble against my chest.

“No,” she whispers, her eyes searching my face. “I don’t think most people ever do.”

“It’s painful.” A hefty sigh heaves from my chest. “It’s precious, though. I won’t give it up.”

Pain tears my heart in half as I look at the woman who, on more than one occasion, went hungry sitting across the table making sure I ate—who literally went without so I could have.

“I won’t give her up for anyone.” I lean to kiss her forehead. “Not even you.”

“I only wanted . . . I only want what’s best for you.” Her bottom lip trembles, but she traps it in her teeth, eyes to the concrete floor. “A woman who knows how to fight. Who will stand with you and understands you. Who would do anything for you.”

The irony of it runs me through like a sword.

“You always said you prayed I’d find someone just like you. As fierce as you, ride or die like you, as strong as you.” I shake my head, rubbing her fingers between mine. “You don’t realize your prayers were answered, exceeded. Why do you think I fell for her? Bristol’s just like you. Don’t miss that because she doesn’t look it on the outside.”

“I can’t make myself want her for you, Marlon.” She doesn’t waste tears, but her eyes are sad. “I’ve always had this idea of who she’d be, and a debutante from New York isn’t what I was expecting. I guess we mothers always have expectations. We always assume we know exactly what to do in every situation.”

“Well, most of the time, mothers do . . .”

My words open up a path in my mind I hadn’t seen before.