Spitfire Suckerpunch (House of Pain Book 2) Read Free Page A

other day she probably would never have looked at him. But today was a good day and she wanted to share it with someone. Her stomach was in a knot and her palms were sweating. She felt like she was going to burst. His face was blank and stern, as she expected. He couldn't give two craps that it was her big day. Life would go on for him as usual when she walked out of the door and stopped being his problem. Still, she couldn't resist a smile at him. Nothing was going to bring her down. He blinked, but otherwise gave no reaction. She didn't mind and she didn't stop smiling.
    When the grumpy sister behind the desk returned with a big slouchy paper envelope, she only smiled more. It was official, Shay knew, as sister girl dumped the envelope out on the cracked Formica top of the desk. An old Blackberry, a pair of cheap, chunky hoop earrings, her mother's modest diamond engagement ring, a tube of fire-engine red lipstick, and a subway Metrocard. All of the possessions she'd had on her person when they arrested her. Looking down at the junk, a wave of nostalgia came over her. She was no longer the girl who'd confidently worn those earrings or rocked that lipstick. She was someone else, someone who had yet to discover herself outside the walls of a prison.
    “Anything missing?” the sister asked. Shay shook her head no. The woman nodded, and swept her hand across the table top, ready to dump the contents back into the envelope.
    “I only need the ring,” Shay said, after a moment's hesitation.
    “If you wish to dispose of your personal items, you may do so once you're off prison property,” the woman stated in a flat voice, like she was reading out of the official Bedford Falls Prison Release Handbook. Shay stifled a laugh with a snort and nodded. She wasn't in the mood to question. In a few short minutes, she would be free. Free . What a concept. The woman behind the desk slid the envelope under the glass divider, and for the first time, Shay noticed the sister's nails. A French tip painted gold, with hand-painted, delicate stars cascading down the nail and a silver rhinestone in the center.
    “I love your nails,” she said as she took the envelope.
    “Oh,” the woman replied, fanning her fingers out in front of her. “Thanks.” Shay nodded, the paper of the envelope crinkling in her hands. It wasn't much, but it was something. Something concrete. She was a person again. Well, a convicted felon, technically, and a black one to boot. In the ol' U.S.of A, that didn't mean much. But she would take it, because she didn't have any other choice. The prison guard jerked his head toward the door and Shay followed. “Good luck,” she could have sworn the sister behind the desk said, but she couldn't be sure.
    Then she followed the guard through the door and into her new life.
    The late October sun was sharp and white and the breeze was cool and crisp. She could smell the damp leaves and the smoke in the air, as well as the molding decay of the big old stone prison behind her. The sky was deep and blue and cloudless and the rolling mountains in the distance were splotched red, orange, and yellow. For a minute, she stood outside the gate, just reveling in it all. Upstate New York was lovely this time of year, even a born and bred Harlem girl could admit. Of course, it was made all the more beautiful by the circumstances.
    She was free, after all.
    “Sugar baby! I was wondering when you were going to bring your happy ass out here,” a voice called out. A wonderful voice. “I been waiting here since last night, it feels like.” Shay turned, her smile widening and tears prickling in her eyes. Her Aunt Gina stood in the gravel parking lot beside a huge black truck, her short stature appearing even smaller compared to the height of the truck. Shay hadn't seen her in so long, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Her face was younger and less weary than it had been Christmas prior, but otherwise the 48-year-old looked the same.