Tyler doesn't appear out of nowhere one day. You don't wake up one morning to his blue eyes and his cutting words from the corner of your cell.
You want him to though. You want it with an intensity that reminds you of nights spent stumbling back to the house, of bruises and cuts, and a bone deep ache that felt more right than anything else you'd ever felt before.
You sat in a courtroom for months feeling utterly fucking helpless, your life in the hands of a 'court-appointed' attorney. He was one of Tyler's followers, the judge too, and a sizeable minority of the jury.
All those people in your corner trying desperately to fuck the system in your favor and the best they could do was life imprisonment. On your bad days this is a somewhat chilling thought.