Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Samson grins and then resumes his position by laying his head on my thighs. “Good. I don’t regret my decision, then.”
“Good.”
“How’s Sara? Are she and Marcos still together?”
“Yeah, they got married last year. She’s four months pregnant.”
“Good for them. I was hoping that would work out. What about his clothing line? Did it ever take off?”
I point at a house down the beach. Samson lifts up onto his elbows so he can see where I’m pointing. “That’s their house. They just finished construction on it six months ago.”
“That yellow one?”
“Yep.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, the clothing line is doing well. He has a lot of followers on TikTok, so that gave his merch a huge boost.”
Samson shakes his head. “TikTok?”
I laugh. “I’ll show you later when you get a new phone.”
“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Samson says. He moves until he’s sitting next to me again. He wipes sand from himself. “Can we go see them?”
“Sara and Marcos? Right now?”
“Not this second,” he says. “I want more time to catch up with you. I’d also like to see your father. I owe him an apology or ten.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna be easy.”
“I know. But I’m persistent.” Samson wraps an arm around me and pulls me to him. He kisses the top of my head.
“What am I supposed to call you? Shawn or Samson?”
“Samson,” he says immediately. “I’ve never felt more myself than when I was with you that summer. That’s exactly who I want to be. Forever.”
I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my mouth into my elbow to hide my smile.
“Where do you live now?” Samson asks me.
I nod my head at my father’s beach house. “Staying with my father and Alana this week, but I have an apartment in Houston. I’m in law school.”
“No way.”
I laugh. “I am. Just started my first semester in August.”
Samson shakes his head with a mixture of pride and disbelief on his face. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted to do.”
“I didn’t know either until you were arrested. Kevin has been really helpful. I’m actually about to start an internship at his office.”
Samson smiles softly. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“I took some college classes in prison,” he says. “I’m going to try to get into school somewhere, if anyone will take me.”
His eyes drift away after he says that, like he’s worried for all the challenges he’s about to face.
“What was prison like?”
He sighs. “Real, real shitty. I give it a one out of ten. Do not recommend.”
I laugh. “What’s the next step? Where are you going to stay?”
Samson shrugs. “Kevin has all that info. Says he set something temporary up for me. I was supposed to call him as soon as I was released, actually.”
My mouth drops open. “Samson! It’s been four hours. You haven’t called him?”
“I don’t have a phone. I was going to ask if I could use yours, but I’ve been a little sidetracked.”
I roll my eyes and take out my cell phone. “If you violate parole over something this stupid, I’m driving you to jail myself.”
Samson brushes sand from his hands and takes the phone after I dial Kevin’s number. Kevin answers after the second ring.
“I haven’t heard from him yet,” Kevin says, assuming it’s me calling. “I promised I would call you as soon as I did.”
Samson smiles at me as he speaks into my phone. “It’s me, Kevin. I’m out.”
There’s a pause on Kevin’s end before he says, “This is Beyah’s number. You’re with her?”
“Yep.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re at the beach.”
“Can Beyah hear me?” Kevin asks.
“Yes,” I say, leaning toward the phone.
“I guess you were right about him.”
“Sure was,” I say with a smile.
“I told you you’re gonna make one hell of a lawyer with that kind of commitment,” Kevin says. “Listen, Samson. You listening?”
“Yep.”
“I’m going to email you the information for your parole officer today. You have seven days to check in with him. You’ll find your key under the rock to the right of the trash can.”
Samson glances at me and raises a brow. “What key?”
“The key to my mother’s house.”
Samson looks over his shoulder at Marjorie’s home. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, I know. My mother made me promise not to tell you until after you were released, which is why I instructed you to call me as soon as you got out. You follow instructions terribly. The deed is at my office, I can bring it by sometime this week. I tried to do what I could with the house, but life has been busy. It needs a lot of work.”
The look of disbelief on Samson’s face is something I wish I could take a picture. I’m sure the same look is splashed across my own face.
“Is this a joke?” Samson asks.
“No. You made some stupid mistakes but you also did a lot of good for a lot of people in that community. My mother being one of them. She thought you deserved to be able to call that place your home because she knew how much you loved it.”