Jailbird (Sound of Silence Series, Book Two) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Taylor Dean

  About the Author

  JAIL

  Bird

  Sound of Silence Series

  Book Two

  Mia’s Story

  taylor dean

  Jailbird

  Copyright © 2017 by Taylor Dean

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  www.taylordeanbooks.com

  Cover photograph by: Thomas Taylor

  Cover models: Linzy Taylor, Danny Taylor

  Cover design by: Jules Isaacs

  Author photo: Jules Isaacs

  Edited by: Jules Isaacs

  E-book formatting by: Maureen Cutajar

  Print ISBN: 978-1548351175

  To my hubby.

  Thanks for the constant support and encouragement.

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to Cheryl King, RN, and Barbara Gibson, RN, for sharing their medical knowledge with me. Your help is much appreciated.

  Special thanks also go to my nephew and his lovely wife, Danny and Linzy Taylor, for being my cover models.

  Dear Reader,

  The Sound of Silence Series is a three book series.

  Book one: Stone Silence, Spencer’s Story

  Book two: Jailbird, Mia’s Story

  Book three: Hothouse Flower, Shay’s Story

  Each book has a happy ending and there are no cliffhangers. They are not standalones and should be read in order.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Taylor Dean

  About the Author

  CHAPTER

  One

  SHOWTIME, MIA. AND you know what they say about a show that’s about to start—it must go on.

  Of course, they also tell the actors to break a leg and I’d much prefer that to what I’m about to do.

  I turn down the paved road and see a large fenced-in property in the distance. My GPS tells me I’ve reached my destination.

  It’s a beautiful and sunny September day with hardly a cloud in the sky. The weather certainly doesn’t match my emotions. If it did, it would be stormy. A raging storm, to include crazy lightning and booming thunder.

  I don’t want to do this. I’d rather go to the dentist and have five teeth pulled. While I’m awake. Heck, I’d rather have my toenails removed. All of them. Without anesthesia.

  But this is something I have to do, something I need to do. Not just for Stony. I need to do it for me.

  Especially for me.

  I can’t move forward with my life until I gain closure from the past. I’d like to place my past in a box, tie a pretty little bow on it, and place it on a shelf and forget about it.

  Instead it sits on my kitchen counter begging to be put away every time I see it.

  It’s time to put it away.

  There’s only one way to do that.

  Face Stony.

  The last time I saw him was a little over a year ago, the moment I arrived home and stepped out of my brother’s car after being released from prison. He was there. Waiting for me.

  Stony smiled at me. He smiled! Not just a little smile either. Stony never smiles, and I mean never. Ever. There’s no rhyme or reason behind his lack of facial expressions, it’s just his personality.

  When I saw that smile, I thought it meant all was forgiven between us. I thought it meant we were starting over. I thought it meant so many things.

  I was wrong. So very wrong.

  I was told he’d had a girl with him that day, a pretty blond California girl. I didn’t notice her, but then, I was preoccupied. I was told they’d been seeing each other for a while.

  I’d been kept in the dark about their relationship.

  “Mia,” my mom had said, “you and Stony gave it your best shot. It didn’t work out. It’s for the best.”

  Mom had her heart set on Stony and me getting married. If Stony had a fan club, she’d be president. Her change of tune threw me for a loop.

  I remember holding on tight to Stony as my close friends and family greeted me after being released from prison. I think he sensed my anxiety with the situation and was trying to be there for me. My mom had a lovely buffet set up on her kitchen table, as well as a welcome home sign.

  WELCOME HOME, MIA!

  It felt surreal, like I hadn’t been in prison, but simply away on a trip for a while and everyone felt thrilled that I had returned. Hooray!

  Sorry I didn’t bring souvenirs. The gift shop was sadly lacking. I felt the strange urge to laugh hysterically. Everything felt so very wrong. It wasn’t a time for celebrating. I had simply finished paying for a mistake I had made. Although, I did appreciate my mother’s efforts and I faked happiness just for her.

  Of course, having Stony at my side made up for a world of hurt and I was able to face the gathering.

  But then Stony suddenly pulled away from me and asked Caroline and Shay where Spencer was.

  I didn’t know who Spencer was.

  I know now.

  Stony seemed agitated. “Where is Spencer?” he’d said loudly, the loudest I’d ever heard him raise his voice. “Where is Spencer?” he’d repeated.

  Everyone looked around as if she’d suddenly step out from one of the closets and come out of hiding or something. Stony stormed out of the house and peeled out in his truck.

  He didn’t even say goodbye. Or look back at me. Or offer me an explanation.

  He went to find Spencer.

  Everyone was quick to bring me up to speed on Stony’s life and sing Spencer’s praises. They were hesitant and careful with their words, cognizant of my feelings, but in the end, it still amounted to a whole lotta praise. The woman had brought Stony back to life and was on par with the angels in heaven.

  Welcome home, indeed. On a scale of 1 to 10, that day ranked low in the number 1 realm.

  I assumed I’d lost Stony a long time ago, but that was the moment I knew I’d lost him without a doubt. His actions sealed the deal.

  We were over.

  I guess I’d always held onto the hope that we could somehow work things out.

  Like my mom said, “We gave it our best shot.” How many chances do you give a relationship before calling it quits? I think we reached our status quo.

  And now here
I am, dredging up the past, sitting here with my car idling while staring at the gorgeous home peeking out from the top of the fence.

  Stony did it. He built his dream home. He always said he was going to buy back his father’s land. He always said he was going to move back to the Roby area someday. I always knew it was his retirement plan.

  But then life changed for him in drastic ways and altered his plans. Life has a way of doing that to all of us. As a matter of fact, I’ve decided that life is the meanest and most unpredictable character in all movies and books. And most especially in my personal experience.

  Stony drove me out here once to show me the land. It was a dirt road back then. Now the road is beautifully paved and a large fenced-in compound sits before my eyes. I couldn’t picture what he meant when he spoke of the home he wanted. Now I see it perfectly.

  It’s incredible, so much more than I ever could have visualized in my mind.

  It could’ve been my home. It should’ve been my home.

  I shake my head to clear it of any and all bitter thoughts. I concentrate on my mother’s words. Things have a way of working out for the best. Stony’s best has already happened for him. I have yet to find my best.

  But I will. I know I will. If I can find someone who can love a jailbird, that is. First I need to love myself before I can allow anyone else into my heart. That’s the hardest struggle of all.

  I smirk at the sign on the fence. It reads, “Stony and Spencer’s Place.” Underneath, in small lettering, it reads, “For happily ever aftering.”

  Ugh. It’s so romantic, my entire body cringes.

  Someone bury me alive. Someone tie me down and let a thousand spiders crawl all over me. Let scorpions sting me over and over.

  It’d be better than facing Stony.

  The thing is I feel like my past is a huge, open wound that won’t heal. In order for me to move forward, I need to make peace with Stony.

  I need him to know the whole story.

  Everything.

  I have to confess my ugly actions. I am frozen, unable to function until I do so. The guilt is tearing me up on the inside and literally killing me.

  In the end, I know it won’t make much of a difference to him. I’m really doing this for me.

  I know Stony doesn’t need to hear me apologize to him. I know he doesn’t need to hear me confess every little detail of that horrible night I set his living room on fire. I know he’s moved on. He forgave me long ago. He testified at my trial and told the world it wasn’t my fault, that it was an accident.

  I loved him for it. I still do.

  But he doesn’t know everything.

  Until he knows the whole story and can still forgive me, I can’t forgive myself. It’s eating me up and destroying me. It’s as if my heart is rusted and corroded, blackened from my sins. I feel as though I can feel the pain from it rotting inside of me. I feel like I’m only half a person and I want so much to feel whole. I nearly killed Stony with my reckless actions. I scarred him for life. I made him endure unimaginable pain. How can I let it go?

  I can’t. That’s why I need to face him and tell him everything. I need to look him in the eyes and tell him how sorry I am. I need to see the forgiveness in his expression. I need to see that he’s happy, that his life was not ruined by my carelessness. Only then can I begin to heal.

  I have a deep dark secret that makes me squirm. I’m screaming in agony on the inside and no one knows it but me. I can’t stand it anymore.

  The saying, “Confession is good for the soul,” smacks of truth. Whoever said it knew what they were talking about. There’s something about admitting my mistakes that will somehow free me. It’s a weird obsession, really. The results can be twofold; one is bad, the second is good. Firstly, there’s the fear that everyone will turn on me if I admit to my wrong-doings. They’ll hate me and feel repulsed by me. That’s the worst case scenario and the thing that holds me back. Secondly, there’s the hope for the solace that will come if people can still love and accept me when I admit everything. If people can love me when I admit something so ugly, then everything will be okay, right? That’s the theory, anyway. I’m counting on the latter. I need the latter to happen.

  I haven’t spoken to Stony face to face since the fire. He was in the hospital for quite some time and the doctors had placed him in a medically induced coma for over two months, otherwise the treatments he’d had to endure would’ve been far too painful to tolerate. I visited twice when no one else was there and placed flowers at his bedside. The sight of him in that condition tore me apart. I could hardly stand the thought that I had done that to him. I longed to be able to talk to him. For what it was worth, I whispered my apologies to his sleeping form, but I knew they didn’t really count for much. After my arrest, I was released on bail until my trial, but I was told that I was not allowed to go anywhere near Stony. Frankly, it was torture.

  The next time I saw him was at my trial, but again, I wasn’t allowed to speak to him. I remember feeling shocked by his appearance. He was in a wheelchair, still healing from the burns and undergoing rehabilitation exercises to regain his muscle strength after being in a coma. He’d already worked so hard at walking with his prosthetic leg and he’d had to start all over again.

  I hated seeing him like that. My overwhelming guilt told me I deserved to spend time in prison. I practically convicted myself.

  And yet, he testified on my behalf. I was stunned and in awe of him.

  I’ve been gone for a little over a year, hiding out in Galveston. I found a job there and left town one week after being released from prison. I couldn’t face Sweetwater. I couldn’t face Stony’s new life, and I couldn’t face the whispers that followed me everywhere I went.

  I’m the girl who nearly killed the town hero. I’m the girl who callously broke his heart and left him to die. I’m cold-hearted and cruel. I’m the ruthless girl who no longer wanted her high school sweetheart because he was missing a leg and I’m disgusted by his very appearance.

  I sigh. I can’t let other people’s opinions define me.

  I’m none of those things. I’m just a girl who was madly in love with her childhood friend. Things went awry for us. But I still love Stony, and I always will.

  I have to do this. You will do this, Mia. It’s the only way to begin to feel normal again. It’s the only way to free myself from the cloud hanging over my head.

  I cut the engine and climb out of my car. I walk up to the gate and push it open.

  Stony and Spencer’s Place.

  Ugh. It’s magical inside the fenced-in property, as if I just walked into a secret garden. Stony always said he was going to build himself an oasis in the middle of the prairie land, and he did it. I didn’t expect it to be quite this beautiful. Green grass covers small rolling hills. Sidewalks meander the property. Flower beds bloom madly with all the colors of the rainbow. It’s almost like being inside of a Thomas Kinkade painting.

  I want to run. I want to turn around and erase this serene picture from my mind. I’m not sure I want to witness Stony’s happily-ever-after. The consolation is that now I know I didn’t ruin his life. I should feel grateful for that knowledge. I kind of do and I kind of don’t. My emotions are a tangled mess when it comes to Stony. I’ve had two years in jail and a little over a year in Galveston to think about this moment, to anticipate exactly what I want to say to him. Now that it’s upon me, I can feel my mind going blank.

  But I’m doing it anyway.

  I march forward with determination in every step and I push on the doorbell before I can change my mind. I hear a Windsor chime echo through the house in a majestic sort of way. A little more cringing goes on inside of me at the perfection of it all.

  The seconds before the door is answered seem interminable. I’m a hot mess.

  Lock me in a tank with hungry—no—starving sharks. Put me in a lion’s den and let them have me for dinner. Make me appear on that dumb TV show, Naked and Afraid.

  Anything b
ut this. I don’t want to face Stony. I don’t, I don’t.

  CHAPTER

  Two

  THE DOOR OPENS and there he is, looking just as handsome as I remembered. He’s wearing shorts and I can see his prosthetic leg. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt and I can see his mottled skin plain as day.

  I did that to him. And I hate myself for it.

  Hate. Hate. Hate.

  I ignore my negative thoughts and concentrate on Stony. He looks confident and fit. His hair is longer, combed back on his head in a stylish sort of way. He’s sporting the unshaven look with a slight beard that only adds to his masculinity. His tanned skin proves he spends a lot of time outdoors. There’s still a deep line between his eyebrows that speaks to the intensity of his personality. In spite of everything, he’s the vision of health and vitality. I know how hard he’s worked to achieve it and I’m impressed with his tenacity. He’s the poster child of someone who refuses to give up no matter how many times life knocks him down. I wish I had his strength.

  Standing this close, I want to fall into his arms and let him hold me. It seems the natural thing to do, but things have changed.

  Drastically.

  His eyebrows furrow even deeper—and the action is not lost on me—then he says, “Mia?”

  I swallow. He doesn’t seem happy to see me, but then the constant lack of a smile makes him hard to read. “Hi, Stony.”

  I’ve surprised him, that’s obvious. And not in a good way.

  He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me. So I say,

  “Can I talk to you?”

  He hesitates and says, “Uh . . .”

  I hate his hesitation, the way he looks so unsure.

  “Please,” I say. I’m not above begging. I need to do this. “I’m not here to cause problems for you, I swear. I know you’re a married man now. I would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship. I’m not trying to come between you and your wife.”

  “Stop it, I know that,” he says and he means it. At least he knows me well enough to know I would never do something like that. Now that he’s married, Stony is off-limits to me.