He chewed on his lower lip, biting down on a piece of dead skin until it peeled away to settle on the tip of his tongue. He thought about Daryl, stuck in Senoia with nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep, not a dime to his name. Damn boy didn’t even know how to sling drugs to get by, didn’t have the contacts or anything—he’d have to get down and dirty, do some kinda under-the-table work to make enough cash for a motel room or something. And he was just a kid, still in his 20s and as bright-eyed as a Dixon could be. No skills, no resumé, not even a high school diploma or a GED. Even more aimless and inexperienced than Merle was at that age. Would some kind soul take pity on him? Or would he be scorned and outcast everywhere he went, just like his big brother? The Dixon name didn’t do shit for them, and it surely wouldn’t do anything for Daryl. He was sweet. Always had been. But how far would bein’ sweet actually get him without Merle around to stand up for him, to advocate for him?
Well, Merle thought, he sure as hell survived without me while I was in the service and locked up after that. But just barely. He got beat so bad, it’s a miracle he survived. Those damn scars on his back… he couldn’t even fight off Pa. How’s he gonna fend for himself in a whole world full of men like Pa?
He needs me. He’s the only person who’s ever needed me.
How am I ever gonna come back after letting him down like this? How am I gonna get him to trust me again?
Goddammit, Merle. Why’d you ever leave in the first place, you stupid fuck? Pa coulda killed him. You knew it. An’ ya still left. You stupid, cocky son of a bitch. Who the hell did you think you were, goin’ off to enlist and actin’ like it’d make things any different? Why’d you have to go an’ fuck it all up for the both of ya?
Can’t you do anything right?
His eyes settled on the paperwork. That highlighted line that Deanna had been pointing to.
Three years wouldn’t be so bad. Right? It was better than five. A helluva lot better than ten, or twenty.
Maybe I can do one thing right. For the first time in my godforsaken life.
Finally, Merle sat up and leaned forward. Uncrossed his arms and rested his elbows on the table. He met Deanna’s patient eyes.
She was kind. A lot kinder than any other public defender he’d ever had. He really should be grateful. Should give her a genuine thanks after all this, if it worked out the way she swore it would. Hell, he’d name his firstborn after her if it really did work out the way she was promising. Reckoned that was the least he could do. He was even regretting being such a crude asshole to her the first dozen times they’d convened.
With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth to speak. Rethought it. Closed his mouth again. Pulled the paper toward him and read back over it. He felt tears pushing up from the back of his throat. He fought them back forcefully. Cleared his throat.
“Alright,” he said plainly. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the deal.”
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