Chapter 7

My suicide watch went by faster than I had thought. Abby was right that working with her would help take my mind off things for a while. Having that eight hours a day, sometimes ten if she was busy, that I wasn't thinking about being here was eight or ten hours that I could breathe. I had someone to talk to and something to do with my hands.

Abby and I got along great after that first day. We talked about my case, and about Bailey, all at her urging. I kept the conversation about Brayden and how I had found myself here brief. Talking about it over and over, in lengthy talks, wasn't therapy even though Abby seemed to think it was. Reliving it only kept me in an endless loop, and made me want to 'make it disappear' again.

It wasn't the money I was working for; I had money, if I really wanted it, and I had people to get the money into my account if I wanted to use it. It was being around someone who actually understood me. Abby even cared about me. Damian cared, but not like Abby did. She wanted me to talk about Brayden, thinking that getting it off my chest would help pull me out of that endless loop. She wanted me to talk about it because she cared, but I couldn't yet.

It hadn't quite sunk in yet that I had tried to kill myself. Even under the most upsetting conditions, I couldn't imagine doing that to myself.

I had talked to my mom on the phone that Friday, the day my suicide watch ended. It was the first time I had been here that I had actually cried real tears. Hearing her cry for over ten minutes of our conversation had worn me down. It wasn't her disappointment in me, it was her sadness – the pain that her youngest child was in trouble and she couldn't help.

I couldn't imagine the tables being turned; me being the parent and Bailey being here when she was older, being unable to help her. I could imagine the pain and feel it, but I didn't want to.

There was too much bad stuff to think about, and not enough good. That was why I enjoyed working with Abby. While I focused on the bad when I was alone inside my cell, she focused on the good while I was with her. In the end, it all balanced out, and it made me feel like my life was balancing back out slowly.

At least the prison had issued me new clothes – I was now wearing the official prison color of white. Instead of having my inmate number stenciled on the breast of my shirt, I now had a patch of linen fabric stitched on, with 853479 above my name – Bass, Lance.

I didn't know how to feel about it. It made everything more real. If they took the time to make me an official patch with my name and everything, obviously I was going to be here a while. It was a little joyful though, because at least now I had my name back – at least I had an identity other than a measly six-digit number. At least now I wasn't just 853479, a no-name prisoner.

Having my identity back didn't change my circumstances, though. I was still in danger. I had recently discovered that Damian had kept one big piece of advice hidden from me – I had two marks against me, because I was not only new to the prison but I was also in protective custody. Not only was I “fresh meat,” I was terrified and vulnerable too, and it made me a target to the other prisoners.

Staying in protective custody was my only hope at not having any problems with the other inmates, because so far none of the other inmates in protective custody with me had given me any problems. It wasn't as if they respected me, but they didn't want to risk getting themselves in trouble either, so I would take it if I could get it.

I realized now that I had to stay in protective custody, because it might be the only place I was safe. I was lucky that my little stunt hadn't landed me in Seg to begin with – if I had been any normal inmate, they'd have put me in Seg for three days to live out my suicide watch. Because of my “celebrity” status, and because for whatever reason Abby seemed to care about me and convinced them to give me special treatment, the prison did me a favor by not sending me there. It was the first time being a celebrity had earned me anything beneficial aside from a better table at a restaurant. Needless to say, I planned to be on the straight and narrow for the rest of my stay.

Saturday was her day off, which meant it was mine by default. I needed a day off, but I wasn't looking forward to being alone. Luckily I wouldn't be alone all day. Today was visitor's day, and I knew that Joey was planning to be here today, since my mom couldn't be. JC was flying in to come along with him. I hadn't seen JC in several months, and I hadn't planned on our next visit to be like this. Since I was still a new inmate, I was only allowed non-contact visits behind a thick glass panel. I could only talk to two of my best friends through a phone, with a guard watching and listening the whole time.

The funny thing was that I was finally starting to heed Damian's advice about being grateful for what I did have instead of wishing for more. At least I was getting to talk to them, even if it was behind glass.

I never knew how much I had taken human contact for granted. After a few days of talking with Damian and getting acquainted with him, I found myself wishing I could look him in the eyes and see his expressions while he talked, instead of guessing about things like whether he was smiling or upset, whether talking about a subject made him happy or made him sad, and whether he was being sarcastic or serious about something. It was like having a conversation with someone through email instead of face-to-face, but at least I had a tell in the tone of his voice.

As transparent and open about his feelings as he was, Damian still had his secrets. He didn't talk about what he did to bring him to prison. All I knew was that he had been a drug dealer, and from what I gathered he was a very important one, and he had turned to an informant. He told me he was in protective custody because a lot of the former gang members that he had snitched on were now held in the prison in general population, and one of the benefits of his plea agreement was protection. But that's usually where he would stop talking about his criminal past, and change the subject with me.

Then there were some of the other guys in protective custody. I had gotten better the past few days and had actually ventured out into the chow hall one day for lunch, and sat with some of the other guys that Damian knew from protective custody. I was surprised to find that they were nice guys; they weren't monsters, at least not that you could see from the outside.

I didn't ask about their crimes; I knew there were probably rapists and child molesters here, especially in protective custody, but I didn't know who they were. I didn't want to know who they were. I assumed that the less knowledge I had during the next year, the better off I was. If I didn't know anything, nobody would have any recourse against me.

As I got ready for Joey and JC's visit that morning, I was finding myself in a dark, moody place again. I was looking forward to seeing my friends, but I didn't know what to expect from them. They had to have heard about the suicide attempt by now, and since Abby had brought it up, I'd been thinking about their reaction. Not only that, but seeing me in prison clothes behind a restrictive glass panel couldn't make them think the world of me.

When one of the guards came to my cell and unlocked it, it all went out of my mind pretty quickly.

Since I was only allowed non-contact visits for now, he walked me down a hallway different than the one most of the other inmates got to go through. It was a hallway full of small rooms, each with a door, but each room was separated by a glass panel with a table and chair on each side. When you looked at it with an outsider's perspective it was bleak, with all the walls being painted a dark gray and one fluorescent light for the whole room going dim. From an insider's perspective, it was the happiest place here, because it was bringing me the best thing I could look forward to this week.

When I walked up to the window and looked in, I saw them – looking at each other. Both of them looked slightly freaked out, probably feeling the way I felt a lot lately, like the bad guy of the movie would jump out and get them at any second. It made me laugh a little on the inside – neither of them had ever been inside a prison, it would be interesting to know what was going through their heads right now.

Maybe I'd even get the chance to ask them – if I got a word in edgewise.

“You've got thirty minutes,” the guard said as he unlocked the door. “I'll be watching out here. Behave yourself.”

The minute he opened the door and allowed me inside, JC and Joey's heads shot up and they caught their first glance of me. JC smiled, but Joey didn't.

I sat down and picked up the phone on my end, and JC picked up their phone and held it between the two of their ears so they could both hear the conversation.

“Hey, it's Butch Cassidy,” he said with a smile, and I couldn't help but smile a little.

“Funny, bro. Funny.”

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Fantastic,” I said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I thought so. I heard you had an interesting week.”

“You heard that, huh?”

“Well, I got a couple of calls that night, so yeah. But other than that, how are you doing?”

If we hadn't been separated by glass, I'd have hugged JC for breaching the subject.

“Better...I think. I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to be doing, to be honest. The food sucks, the accommodations suck, the clothing sucks...the company isn't bad, though. My cell neighbor Damian is pretty awesome, even though he never shuts up.”

“I don't know, I kind of like your spiffy duds. You're making it work – prison chic.”

“Fuck you, JC,” I said with a laugh.

“Cut me some slack. I always thought I'd be having this conversation with Justin on the other side of the glass. You threw me for a loop here.”

“Yeah. I'm so bad-ass.”

It was a nice change to have my friends here and to be able to laugh, but the look on Joey's face was unmistakable. There was something different about me, and I knew he noticed. It had him concerned.

“Justin and Chris are sorry they couldn't make it out to see you,” JC said. “Both of them had already made commitments.”

“Yeah, I know how it is,” I responded.

“You look good, man.”

“I look like hell, Jace,” I said. “You don't have to sugarcoat anything. I know I look awful.”

“I can't lie,” he said. “You really do look like hell. You look like you haven't slept in a month.”

“Pretty damn close. I did get some sleep a few days ago – did you know that Oxycontin is good stuff?”

This time, neither of them laughed, chuckled or even smirked.

“Why'd you do it, Lance?” Joey asked. He must have been so relieved to finally get it off his chest.

“I'm so sick of hearing that question this week,” I said with a slight chuckle.

“Well, get over it,” he said. “You're my best friend. When my best friend tries to kill himself, I'm going to ask questions and I want to get answers.”

Joey and JC were the only two people that I felt I could give the real answer to.

“I don't know, Joey. I don't want to be here, I don't belong here and I shouldn't be here. I don't know how I ended up here. I feel like I'm in a bad fucking dream. This place is hell and I've only been here a week. I've got at least year to go.”

“You tried to hurt yourself,” he said.

“I've been beating myself up on the inside all week. I figured I'd give my mind a break and focus on the body for a while.”

I could tell my cryptic answer didn't satisfy him.

“We're worried about you,” JC said. “We never imagined we'd be visiting you in a prison. The way you look – it's scary, man. You just don't look like yourself.”

“What you're doing to yourself is even scarier,” Joey said.

“Guys, I'm fine,” I said with a sigh. “This is supposed to be my reprieve from all the shit I've been dealing with all week. This is my one moment of happy in this place this week. Can we actually visit instead of reliving my personal hell?”

After that, they stopped. They still gave me disapproving looks for my bad taste in jokes, but I could see their side. They didn't know what I was going through. They didn't know that joking about it was my only way of dealing with it.

They tried to talk about “light” stuff during the rest of the visit, or at least what they thought was light. JC talked about being in the studio and the new season of his show coming up; Joey talked about his girls, how Brianna was doing in school and Kloey's new developments.

It didn't take long before Joey ran out of happy stuff to talk about and had no choice but to talk about my lawyer's struggle to work on my case.

“He hasn't even started working on trying to get you out. He's been too busy jumping through legal loopholes trying to find a way to force Brayden to give up custody of Bailey. He knows it won't be easy, he thinks she's going to fight all the way. Not to mention he's been working on a couple other cases at the same time. He's swamped, but he's trying.”

“You know Bray hasn't even visited me?” I asked.

“Don't count on it happening either,” he said. “She's been too busy partying. She left Bailey with me Wednesday night, even though I don't know why. She looked at me like she thought I was going to take her and run out of town or something.”

“How's Bailey dealing with all of this?” That was the question I didn't want to know the answer to, because I knew it couldn't be good.

“She's confused,” Joey said simply.

“Hasn't Bray explained anything to her?”

“Lance, you need to take off the rose-colored glasses,” Joey said. “Of course Bray hasn't explained anything to her. And as much as I hate her, I also can't place all the blame on her. The thought of explaining prison to a four-year-old is mind-boggling and exhausting.”

“How the fuck do you explain the concept of prison to a four-year-old?” JC asked, to no one in particular.

“It's impossible,” I said. “It's impossible to explain to my daughter where I am and why I'm not around without royally screwing her up. I'm not sure I could even do it if I wasn't here. And yet here I am, expecting my best friend to do it for me.”

“Hey,” Joey said. “I told you – whatever it takes. But it's going to take a lot longer than either of us wants it to. I'm working on it when I'm home, and when I'm gone working, Kelly and Rich are working on it together.”

“I still can't thank you enough, Joe.”

“What the hell are friends for if they're no good when you're in a bind?”

“Or in prison,” I said with a smile.

Finally, I got the two of them to crack a smile.

“You know, this reminds me of one of those viral Facebook things,” JC said. “You know, 'if you woke up in jail and saw your best friend next to you, what is the first three words you'd say' or something like that.”

“Yeah, but most people say three words that are funny,” Joey responded. “They've never really been in that situation.”

“But still. My answer is completely different for each of you – like Lance, if I was in here with you, I'd probably say 'What the hell?' But if I woke up next to Justin, I'd say 'What'd you do?'”

I laughed, because that would probably be my reaction too.

“If I was next to you JC, I'd probably say 'What the hell?'” Joey said. “If I was next to Lance, I'd probably say 'That was awesome.' Because if Lance and I were to end up in jail together, you know it'd have to be for something awesome.”

“What about Chris?” I asked.

“Probably 'I told you so,'” JC said with a laugh.

“That's four words.”

“Four words that fit.”

We laughed for a while longer over it, before I realized I hadn't told them about Abby.

“I forgot to tell you guys – I got a job. Well, sort of.”

“A job?” JC asked.

“Kind of. Temporary, at least. Doing office work for the nurse here.”

“Why the hell would you need a job?” Joey said.

“It's not about the money, Joe. It's something to do to avoid going crazy. And she's a good listener.”

“She?” JC asked with a smile.

“Yeah, she. What are you saying, Jace?”

“He's saying be careful, Lance,” Joey said, interrupting before JC could say what he really wanted to.

Before I could respond, the guard knocked on the door and came in. My visiting time was over.

“Damn it,” I said.

“I'll be back again in a month,” Joey said to me. “Hopefully by then we'll have some of this all figured out.”

“I'm flying back to LA tomorrow and my schedule is full for the next few months. I'll keep in touch with Joey and hopefully we can figure out something by phone. I want to try to help, too,” JC said.

“Thanks guys.”

“We're still brothers – band or no band,” Joey said.

“The best brothers in the world,” I responded.

“Don't pull any more stupid shit, Lance. Let us help you.”

I sighed. “Okay, Joey.”

“I promise I'll bring you something good next month – I don't know what, but I will. Hang in until next month.”

“I will. I have to go.”

Goodbyes had never been so awkward between me and the guys. I was glad I'd been able to visit them, but this wasn't the most glamorous circumstances.

Most of the rest of the night, I relaxed in my cell and used the time to unwind from my visit with them. I contemplated Brayden, Bailey, my struggling court case, and most of all, what the two of them could have possibly meant by 'be careful.'

I was reading a book later that night when I got a surprise.

“Hey you.”

I looked up from my book to see Officer Daniels standing at my cell door.

“Let's go. You have a visitor.”

“I already had my visitors today, I'm not expecting anybody else.”

“Well,” she said as she unlocked the door, “I don't know who it is, but I know you have one. So let's go.”

As she walked me down the hallway, I tried to think of who would be here to visit me. Joey and JC had left hours ago, and I knew Justin and Chris weren't able to get away to visit me. My mom and dad couldn't make the trip from Mississippi all the way to New York this time either.

“You honestly don't know who's here?” I asked her.

“Nope,” she said. “I was just told you had a visitor. I'm only the messenger and the escort. You looking a visiting horse in the mouth?”

“A visitor is a visitor, I guess,” I said with a smile as she opened the door to the visitors' area.

Visiting hours didn't end for another hour, but most of the visitors that had showed up today had already left, so the visiting area was nearly empty. The non-contact area was even emptier than the general area, so it looked like I would be the only one here.

Unfortunately, when she opened the door to the room and I saw exactly who was sitting behind the glass, a visitor was not something I wanted right now. Of all the people I had imagined would pop in to visit me today, Brayden was the last person I expected.