Nightfall

By Nicole David

Abandoned by her parents and her son's father, Angie Romero is used to relying solely on her grandmother. Now, a devoted single mom to a three-year-old son, she has found happiness in serving her regulars at the Sunny Side Up diner. Putting a smile on her customer's faces is the usual highlight of her day. When a handsome silver-eyed man shows up one day, everything changes.

 

Tommy Mercer is now a man of few words now that he's left prison. Growing up Hell's Kitchen, he was surrounded by a warm, loving family. But that all changed the day he was convicted of a heinous crime. Now, he's free but his life will never be the same. Walking into the Sunny Side Up diner to grab a quick bite, he never expected to fall for the beauty with the dark brown curls. What starts as a friendly chat, ends with daily conversations about life.  

 

Angie has vowed to never date again. Yet, the magnetic stranger is always on her mind. Tommy becomes someone on whom she can depend. The only thing is that she knows very little about him. Though she relishes his childhood stories, he rarely talks about his current life. His beautiful silver-grey eyes are filled with sorrow.  

 

When Tommy finally reveals his dark past, Angie is shocked. She is speechless. But can she trust him? And what's more, can she trust her heart? 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole David
• Release date: Oct 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393021025

Book preview

NIGHTFALL

Copyright © 2020 by Nicole David

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All product/brand names mentioned herein are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

Published by Wise Words Publishing

Original Photo by Jez Timms on Unsplash

Cover Design by Nicole David

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

Printed in the U.S.A.

Dedication

To my readers, thank you for taking a chance on my book. I strive to become a better writer over time. I release each novel/novella in hopes that my stories will be enjoyed by (at least a few) readers.

Prologue: The Verdict...

Four Years Ago

Inside the courthouse, a somber mood fell upon the room. Sentencing day had arrived. Tommy sat on one side of the courtroom while Bailey and her family sat on the other.

An occasional tear left her eye. Her legs trembled. The family attorney rested his hand on her back as the courtroom awaited the jury’s verdict.

Bailey Williams sat on the first-row bench. She wore a modest high-collared, loose-fitting navy-blue dress that fell two inches below her knees. The lawyers selected each outfit she had worn throughout the trial. They requested full control over Bailey’s wardrobe for each courtroom appearance.

The lawyers insisted that a carefully selected to preserve Bailey’s image and reputation. As Bailey glanced down at her knees, she noticed her quivering leg. She suddenly realized that her mother, Sharon, was clinging tightly to her right arm.

But Bailey’s father sat as still as a statue. He felt confident in the jury’s verdict. A slight smirk plastered to his face since breakfast. Instead, she worried about the man that sat on the opposite side of the court, the wrong side. Tommy Mercer.

After months of sitting in the courtroom, today was judgment day. Tommy sat with sweaty palms placed on his gray dress pants as Judge Beatty entered the room. Banging his gavel, the judge peered over his horn-rimmed spectacles at the crowded room. With his stern demeanor as he called the court to order. Tommy felt his breath catch.

Members of the jury, have we reached a verdict? The judge peered over his glasses at the jury foreman. If you would please hand the verdict to the bailiff. Thank you.

With those words, the bailiff walked to the jury foreman. The bailiff took the tiny folded slip of paper, which held Tommy’s fate. Thank you, bailiff. As the judge unfolded the paper, Tommy felt his hands grow clammy. His throat dry.

All rise. The bailiff made quick upward motions with his hands urging people to stand. Judge Beatty waited for everyone to follow his order before reading the verdict. The benches and chairs creaked in unison. A few coughs echoed in the room. Tommy’s vision became blurry. And his head felt light.

"The jury has made its decision. In the case of People vs. Mercer, the jury finds the defendant Thomas Dylan Mercer guilty on one count of third-degree statutory rape." The judge paused.

The court has decided that Mr. Mercer will serve the maximum sentence of four years in the Halenda Heights Correctional Facility per New York penal code section one-thirty. The court officers will take the defendant into custody to begin his sentence. This court is adjourned, Judge Beatty banged his gavel once more.

The creaking of court benches and shuffling of shoes across the smooth, polished courtroom floor drowned out the sound of Tommy’s racing heartbeat.

His father stood quickly and left the courthouse without glancing back. His mother and sister paused and looked at him before following his father out of the courthouse.

Edward Williams placed a gentle peck on his daughter’s cheek. Thank God, he whispered into her ear. Promptly gloating over his perceived victory, he failed to register his daughter’s discomfort.

That monster got what he deserved. Now, we can finally move on. Until that moment, Bailey had been in disbelief. She had not thought her actions would have led to such a turn of events.

Her father said we as if the courtroom circus, which had lasted months, harmed his life. But Bailey knew who the true victim was. And she wanted to run as far away from the courthouse as possible.

She had not thought through her actions. Nor had the courage to stand up to her family. Now, it was too late. A tear fell from her left eye, which she wiped away.

As her father led her by one hand out of the courtroom, Bailey glanced behind her as court officers shackled Tommy’s arms and legs. He was stiff as a board as the courtroom officers led him away.

Chapter 1: Going Home

Tommy

Four Years Later

January 7th. It was time for Tommy Mercer to leave prison, his home for the past four years. Time lulled while in prison. His dad suffered a heart attack, dying one year into his sentence. Serving time for a crime he did not commit made him nervous. He bore witness to many acts of unspeakable violence against other sex offenders.

Tommy ambled behind the guard down the long corridor. Blue-painted walls as the prison guard unlocked a series of cold steel doors. Slow was the only way he could walk. Cuffs and chains weighed down his ankles. It was difficult to move as the metal scraped the hard concrete-granite hallway.

Taken to an office area, he exchanged his prison garb for jeans and a t-shirt. He squirmed in his own clothes. Tommy wore prison-issued uniforms for so long that he had almost forgotten the feeling of real clothing.

He had grown used to the coarse prison fabric. The slight skin irritation was a reminder he was still alive, even if he was somewhat emotionally numb.

There were more doors and gates. Out-processing returned his remaining commissary balance into a debit card balance. They also provided cash for the taxi ride. Once he received his personal effects (which included his mother’s picture, his wallet, and his holy rosary), reality set in. He was almost free.

Father Anthony had given him the holy rosary when he was six years old. He clutched it tightly to his chest at the memory. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to rub the smooth wooden beads between his fingers. 

Another guard came and escorted Tommy to the front gate.

It was a cold, windy, and rainy October evening, with dampness that chills your bones as soon as it touches your skin. He breathed out, air misting as it left his lungs and exited his mouth. The pebbles on the street crackled beneath his sneakers.

Planning for his release began about three months ago in July. He told the parole board he wouldn’t have a ride. So, they arranged for a taxi to take him to his assigned halfway house. There, he would stay for the eight-month duration of his probation.

Tommy remembered the look of doubt on the faces of the parole board as they granted his parole. He knew none of the board members believed him, certain he would be back behind bars after a few months as a civilian. 

The taxi was waiting for him when the guards opened the external gate. He turned, nodding at the guards. Not sure whether he was nodding a goodbye to the guards or to the memories he held. 

Despite being a prison, this place had been his home. Now, he would have to confront the great unknown. The real world had continued to evolve while parts of him had withered away behind bars.

Prison time had hardened him. While it was not a maximum-security facility, it was still prison. Guards told him when to eat, wake, sleep, shower, and pee. And his creature comforts had all disappeared. He had no privacy. No escape from the voices or thoughts of others.

He used to be squeamish about violence before prison, but a few violent incidents had changed him. He could not even imagine the level of fear he would have had in a maximum-security facility. He would have gone mad.

It felt weird to be free of cuffs, not surrounded by wrought iron and tall mesh-fencing with razor-sharp wire. For four years, they had confined him like an animal. He never realized how difficult it was lose the ability to make mundane decisions about his day, such as eating, sleeping, and waking up. He had taken all of this for granted.

He would not miss the stale bread, nor the low leaking pipes which kept him awake at night. He definitely wouldn't miss the whispers of other inmates wreaking havoc at all hours of the night. The things a man had to deal with daily in prison was not for the weary or tenderhearted.

Tommy had seen more than a few brutal beatings, but luckily, only one death. It was suicide. He was only in a medium-security prison, but it was still no cakewalk. He took a deep breath before opening the taxi door and sliding onto the faux leather seats.

For the entire ride, the taxi driver never once looked back. For the duration of the ride, the taxi driver didn’t speak. He never even looked into his rearview mirror to gaze at Tommy.

His knuckles were white from tightly gripping the steering wheel and his eyes were beginning to sting from the dryness of not blinking.

Who could blame him? Tommy was an ex-prisoner. For all this taxi driver knew was that Tommy committed a heinous crime that resulted in his just sentencing."

The instant he closed the taxis’ door, hiss driver began driving. Tommy thought, "Damn, you could have at least said hello."

As he drove from the desolate area near the prison towards the city, Tommy’s anxiety grew with each passing minute. Would he be able to find a job? What would people think?

What would the Greater New Hope Housing Program halfway house be like? Maybe, he should ask the taxi driver to turn around. At least the prison was an evil that he knew.  

He looked to the sky, searching for relief. The only person who he stayed in contact with during his entire time in prison was Father Anthony. He was his constant, a reminder of the man he could have been and the boy he once was. 

Father Anthony wrote while the rest of his family had faded away. He felt like a ghost, disappearing from the consciousness of the one’s he once loved. 

He didn’t even know if they would recognize him. His thoughts were a muddled mess. His stomach tightened in agony. Then, he felt his agony transform in boiling-hot rage.

On the day of his transfer from the temporary holding cell to the prison, the weather was sunny and bright. Going into prison and coming out was like a metaphor for his life. Life after prison would be hard with his conviction, even with his time fully served.

Before prison, he had been saving up towards his own mechanic shop. Now, he was twenty-five with nothing to show for himself. The trial had obliterated his savings. He had a prison record and a four-year-long employment gap. And a potential lifetime label as a sex offender. He would be lucky to get any sort of work.

The taxi finally arrived at its Midtown destination. Close to Tommy’s old neighborhood. Just walking distance of his old neighborhood. Turns out, it was one of the few places in the area that allowed registered sex offenders to live. Through the years, Father Anthony had worked to ensure Tommy would have a place to stay and near the church.

As he stepped out of the taxi, he glanced up at the burgundy and gray facade of the house’s exterior. Tommy took a moment to appreciate his freedom, even if it wasn’t exactly how he would have liked it to be.

As he climbed the concrete steps, he wondered what life inside these walls would be like? Would he have to watch his back as he had in prison? Would he have to prove once again that he was nobody’s punk? 

Tommy knew he was one of the lucky ones. Despite his anxiety, he knew that many sex offenders often struggled to find housing in New York City. Because of this, sometimes the prison board would not release offenders for this very reason.

He knocked on the door. Each time he knocked, the sound grew more insistent. More desperate. He continued until he lost count.

To Tommy’s surprise, a small spectacled elderly lady opened the door. She yawned.

Hi there, she said smiling softly. I must apologize. I fell asleep while waiting for you. She paused as she stepped to the side. Oh, you must be so tired. That was quite a drive down. Luckily, you made it in one piece, she turned, walking away from the door.  

Come on in, she gestured as she continued shuffling down the hall away from the door towards the kitchen.

As he entered the door, his gaze wandered. The room was warm and smelled of lavender. The entryway was decorated farmhouse style, with a green wreath hanging over a wooden mantle. 

There was a large canvas above the wreath that read, ‘Welcome to Our Home.’ Directly below, a wooden bench sat covered in throw pillows. Beside the bench, there was woven side table with a lamp sitting on top. The place resembled a bed and breakfast, not a halfway house. 

Follow me this way. I’m headed for the kitchen. You look like you need a snack. She turned and gestured towards a corner of the entryway. Oh. And leave your bags by the door. We can take care of that in a second.  

He walked into the dimly lit kitchen. The kitchen was more inviting than the entryway had been. Fresh daisies sat in the middle of the brown and tan kitchen island. A beautiful light rustic fixture hung above the island.

Thatched wooden stools surrounded the island. A long, rectangular dining room table sat close to the opposite side of the room.

The rest of the house is asleep. It’s... She glanced quickly at her watch, one in the morning... my goodness, she giggled. Well, I won’t keep you too long. Just wanted to go over the house rules with you. And give you your paperwork. Pull up a stool. 

Tommy did not realize how weary he was from the day and his journey until he sat. I’m Doctor Nelda Scott. I’m one of the program counselors. I actually live on-site. We will always be available twenty-four hours a day.  

He nodded silently as Nelda poured him a cup of mint tea and water and placed them in front of him. This here is one of my favorites. I dry the leaves myself. We have a garden in the back. Figured it would be a nice way for people to decompress and focus on something positive while staying here.

Tommy nodded. "I know you’re shocked. Everyone is on their first