Page 8 of Unbroken

“Well, turns out he had a beef with you, because he paid royally to have your ass pinned for a crime that apparently was staged. The robbery. The assault. The witness. All lies. All bought and paid for with pretty boy’s money.”

I can hear my sanity snapping inside my head. The blood literally coming to a boil within my veins. I’m fucking doing time because a spoiled piece of shit couldn’t handle hearing the word no. You’re telling me he was that weak and pathetic so he paid a fortune to put me in my place instead of just raising his fists and handling it like a man? He probably knew I’d clobber the shit out of him if he tried. The kid was puny, and I was always big for my size.

“You have two options, Rork.” The Warden’s voice barely registers above the pounding of my heart. What’s he going to say—that I can have a retrial, or opt to have my consequences for today’s actions pleaded down?

“We can bring him in and make him serve life without parole. Give pretty boy a taste of what it’s like on the inside. Or…” He looks up at the officer behind my back, a dark look transpiring between them before he returns his attention to me. “Or you can serve him your justice yourself.”

If I’m hearing him correctly, it sounds like he’s telling me I can kill the bastard.

“You giving me permission to squeeze the life out of him once he’s brought in? Because that’s what it’s sounding like, Warden.”It sounds like he’s going to put the little prick in a cell with me and look the other way.

“You’re now a free man, Rork. You can handle him however you see fit and have the assurance of knowing that you’ll never be charged for the crime.”

Not sure what the fuck he’s saying. Shit doesn’t work like that. Not in here it don’t.

“So what? I’m supposed to believe that you’re just going to let me walk out of here? That you’re going to forget about my accomplishments since I’ve been in the slammer?” I’d saycrimes, but I don’t see it that way. Those men that I hurt got what they deserved.

“Let’s see.” The Warden smirks, resembling a dirty cop. “You murdered a serial rapist. Beat the life out of a drug lord who was still playing puppet master and pushing his drugs from inside. And…you strangled the life out of a pedophile who deserved worse.” He shakes his head. “The way I see it, you did a service to the people. Now their tax dollars won’t be drained over lowlifes who don’t deserve to feel the warmth of the sun shining on their faces. Sounds to me like you’re a fucking hero.”

I smirk at that. At least someone sees it my way, but I’m still seeing red over the fact that my life was torn away from me. Worse…I lost my girl over that little spoiled shit. Fuck.

“On a serious note, Rork. The system can’t give you back lost time, but we can make amends for our wrongs.” He passes a piece of paper across the desk. “This is our apology.”

I read the top and see that it’s a bank account in my name, and the balance in that account has a hell of a lot of fucking zeroes in it. That’s more than I can spend in a lifetime.

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” the Warden teases, and I’m beginning to wonder whether I’m being punked. “So, have you made your decision?”

I’m not sure what the fuck I’m deciding on. My mind is still spinning around zeroes and trying to figure out whether this is all some big-ass joke because all of this seems crazy to me.

“Decision about what?”

“The fucker’s fate?”

Yes. Yes, I have. If I’m truly being given the opportunity to handle him, then I know exactly what I’m going to do. “I’d like to confront him myself before you all bring him in.” I want him to know exactly what life behind bars is like. But first, I’m going to make him feel every ounce of pain that I’ve had to endure day in and day out for two thousand two hundred and forty-eight days.

“I approve of your choice, son.” He tips his head to me. “Now, is there anyone you want to call before we let you walk free?”

I still think I’m being played a fool right now, but I’ll take the bait.

“Nah, I’m all set. You can just show me the door, Warden.”

CHAPTER 5

Wren

Day 2,250

And the tears always come.

Ihit the power button, but it’s already too late. The screen may be black now, but I still see the images burning in my mind. Grey’s dominance radiating off him, demanding Anastasia to obey. There was so much hype around theFifty Shadesbooks that I figured I’d give the movies a try, hoping to distract my mind from the past. But here I am, sinking deeper into my misery and despair. Six years and it just doesn’t let up.

It happened again today—another reminder of my lost dream. Fran needed to leave work early, and I was forced to interact with the customers. And dear old Mrs. Winkler decided to meddle her nose into my love life again. Asking me why I didn’t have a man in my life. Asking if I’d ever been in love.Then she wanted to know if I would like to be set up with her grandson. A divorcé ten years my senior, who lives in her basement and needs a “good girl to keep him occupied so he doesn’t fry his brain on them video games he likes to play so much.”

The lies rolled off my tongue as I answered her, but the truth burrowed itself in my gut and I was drowning in the pain of my pathetic love life. I’d baked enough last night that I didn’t need to stay late tonight, so I rushed home and planned a movie marathon for myself. Three movies to keep my mind occupied until sleep took over. But it’s not working.

I pick up my phone and start scrolling through my Insta feed, tagging recipes I’d like to try out, watching silly animal videos, the latest dance trends. When Chef Zen’s grand opening video comes through, I quickly close out the app. It’s not that I’m not excited for him, I am. But it hurts too much to be reminded of what I lost. I’d always dreamed of working as his sous chef, learning from the best of the best, but that dream died the day my heart was broken.

My granny told me I should leave this place and my pain behind and go start fresh, but there wasn’t a shred of strength in me. I was barely breathing. Then, when she got sick, I knew I couldn’t leave. There was no one here to take care of her, and my mom sure wasn’t going to step up to the plate. So…I stayed. And after Granny passed, I used my inheritance to buy the diner that was so dear to her heart. It may not be the grand restaurant I dreamed of opening in New York City, but it allows me to do something I love. And seeing the joy my food brings to these kind people helps keep me trucking along.