Okay, I've got another cliffhanger, but I really wanted to post this tonight. Thanks sooo much for all the reviews!
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He kept his arm around me the whole time I talked. I cried, and even though I ended up soaking his shirt, he never told me to stop.
"That's why I had that dream last night, I think. I thought maybe one day I could just forget about it, but now. . ."
I sniffed, and caught sight of his watch and realized that we had missed half an hour of class. I ignored it.
"Why can't it just be over?" I finally asked. He had no answer, but pulled me gently into his chest, then kissed the top of my head. "I wish there was something I could do. I wish there was some way that I could. . . just have control."
We stayed silent for a minute more, then he let go of me and got up, excited. "There's something you can do. Come on!"
"Where?"
"Just trust me on this. You'll get complete control."
"But we have class."
He shrugged. "So what? We're already going to get marked as skipping."
His grin was contagious, and helped me feel a little less desperate. "Fine," I agreed, no idea what he had planned.
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"Should I be concerned that you knew how well you knew your way here?"
"My uncle works here. Come on."
We stood outside the prison where Dean was being held. Apparently his parents couldn't have him released until Friday.
"Wait," I said, pulling him back. "Are you sure we can get inside? Don't you have to be eighteen?"
"You're telling me that you don't have a fake ID stashed in your bag?"
I couldn't deny it, but still wasn't sure about going in. I pulled my ID out and we headed to the booth outside the gates.
"Can I help you?" he asked me. I froze.
"Yeah," Spinner said quickly, stepping forward. "We wanted to visit an inmate."
He handed us each a pass. "This will get you inside, you'll have to get approval to visit. Stand back." We did, and a gate opened. We followed a long hallway into a reception area, in a different building from the jail. We went up to the desk.
"Can I help you?" the guy asked. He was skinny with freckles, and I couldn't imagine him being one to work around inmates. This time, I wasn't afraid to speak.
"Hi, I was hoping to visit my cousin." I vaguely remember something on a cop show I'd heard that it was easier for family to get in.
"What's you cousin's name?"
"Dean. Dean Roberts."
"And you are?"
I glanced quickly at my ID. "Elizabeth Daniels."
"And you are?" he asked Spinner.
"My fiancé," I said quickly. "Jake Meyers. That's why we want to see him. To tell him."
"Can I see some ID?" Spinner started reaching for it, but he shook his head. "No, her."
I pulled the card out and handed it to him. He looked it over carefully, then nodded and handed us each a clipboard. "Fill these out."
I filled out the form quickly, but when I was done, sat there, nervously tapping my pen.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded, but wasn't sure. He put his hand on my shoulder. "We don't have to do this."
I shook my head. "No, I'm going to do this."
He nodded and kissed me quickly, then brought our forms back to the disapproving receptionist. He looked them over, then handed us more passes, taking back the old ones. He pressed a button, and a door opened, letting us into the other side of the desk. We waited for a minute, then we were met by a prison guard. To my surprise, it was a woman. She briskly went over safety and other procedures, while taking us through another long, seemingly endless hallway.
"Get ready. It's not a pretty group in there, Paige."
I was taken aback. "It's Elizabeth."
"I may not be a cop, but I'm not stupid," she informed me, not slowing down, hardly looking back. "I know what this kid did and I know that you're not a cousin. You're not eighteen either, are you?" Finally, she stopped and turn to look at me.
"My husband's also Kevin Collins. And I know that this kid is never going to be punished enough for what he did. I'm not without empathy. Just don't tell that I knew anything, if you get caught, okay?"
I was trying to process everything. "Yeah."
"I'm going to get you a private interview room," she said, picking up her pace again.
"I don't want to be alone with him," I said quickly.
"In private, his hands and legs will be chained together, and his arms chained to the chair. There are panic buttons in the room, and your friend can wait outside the door. There's a double sided mirror where he can watch." It was the first time she acknowledged Spinner. "And it'll be a whole lot easier without the other perverts surrounding you."
I took a deep breath, and she led me to the double sided window she was talking about. She left, and said she had to get him, and told us to stay there. We did, and he took his hand in mine. We waited, five, ten, fifteen minutes, and said nothing. We didn't have to. My heart pumped harder as tie went by. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt heavy. Eventually, the guard, whose name I never got, came in from a door on the other side of the room. She aggressively pushed him down, then chained him to the table. She yelled something, but we couldn't hear anything. She opened the door on our side and came out.
"He's all yours. The door's open from the outside." She walked down the hall, but I had the feeling she would be back. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.
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He kept his arm around me the whole time I talked. I cried, and even though I ended up soaking his shirt, he never told me to stop.
"That's why I had that dream last night, I think. I thought maybe one day I could just forget about it, but now. . ."
I sniffed, and caught sight of his watch and realized that we had missed half an hour of class. I ignored it.
"Why can't it just be over?" I finally asked. He had no answer, but pulled me gently into his chest, then kissed the top of my head. "I wish there was something I could do. I wish there was some way that I could. . . just have control."
We stayed silent for a minute more, then he let go of me and got up, excited. "There's something you can do. Come on!"
"Where?"
"Just trust me on this. You'll get complete control."
"But we have class."
He shrugged. "So what? We're already going to get marked as skipping."
His grin was contagious, and helped me feel a little less desperate. "Fine," I agreed, no idea what he had planned.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Should I be concerned that you knew how well you knew your way here?"
"My uncle works here. Come on."
We stood outside the prison where Dean was being held. Apparently his parents couldn't have him released until Friday.
"Wait," I said, pulling him back. "Are you sure we can get inside? Don't you have to be eighteen?"
"You're telling me that you don't have a fake ID stashed in your bag?"
I couldn't deny it, but still wasn't sure about going in. I pulled my ID out and we headed to the booth outside the gates.
"Can I help you?" he asked me. I froze.
"Yeah," Spinner said quickly, stepping forward. "We wanted to visit an inmate."
He handed us each a pass. "This will get you inside, you'll have to get approval to visit. Stand back." We did, and a gate opened. We followed a long hallway into a reception area, in a different building from the jail. We went up to the desk.
"Can I help you?" the guy asked. He was skinny with freckles, and I couldn't imagine him being one to work around inmates. This time, I wasn't afraid to speak.
"Hi, I was hoping to visit my cousin." I vaguely remember something on a cop show I'd heard that it was easier for family to get in.
"What's you cousin's name?"
"Dean. Dean Roberts."
"And you are?"
I glanced quickly at my ID. "Elizabeth Daniels."
"And you are?" he asked Spinner.
"My fiancé," I said quickly. "Jake Meyers. That's why we want to see him. To tell him."
"Can I see some ID?" Spinner started reaching for it, but he shook his head. "No, her."
I pulled the card out and handed it to him. He looked it over carefully, then nodded and handed us each a clipboard. "Fill these out."
I filled out the form quickly, but when I was done, sat there, nervously tapping my pen.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded, but wasn't sure. He put his hand on my shoulder. "We don't have to do this."
I shook my head. "No, I'm going to do this."
He nodded and kissed me quickly, then brought our forms back to the disapproving receptionist. He looked them over, then handed us more passes, taking back the old ones. He pressed a button, and a door opened, letting us into the other side of the desk. We waited for a minute, then we were met by a prison guard. To my surprise, it was a woman. She briskly went over safety and other procedures, while taking us through another long, seemingly endless hallway.
"Get ready. It's not a pretty group in there, Paige."
I was taken aback. "It's Elizabeth."
"I may not be a cop, but I'm not stupid," she informed me, not slowing down, hardly looking back. "I know what this kid did and I know that you're not a cousin. You're not eighteen either, are you?" Finally, she stopped and turn to look at me.
"My husband's also Kevin Collins. And I know that this kid is never going to be punished enough for what he did. I'm not without empathy. Just don't tell that I knew anything, if you get caught, okay?"
I was trying to process everything. "Yeah."
"I'm going to get you a private interview room," she said, picking up her pace again.
"I don't want to be alone with him," I said quickly.
"In private, his hands and legs will be chained together, and his arms chained to the chair. There are panic buttons in the room, and your friend can wait outside the door. There's a double sided mirror where he can watch." It was the first time she acknowledged Spinner. "And it'll be a whole lot easier without the other perverts surrounding you."
I took a deep breath, and she led me to the double sided window she was talking about. She left, and said she had to get him, and told us to stay there. We did, and he took his hand in mine. We waited, five, ten, fifteen minutes, and said nothing. We didn't have to. My heart pumped harder as tie went by. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt heavy. Eventually, the guard, whose name I never got, came in from a door on the other side of the room. She aggressively pushed him down, then chained him to the table. She yelled something, but we couldn't hear anything. She opened the door on our side and came out.
"He's all yours. The door's open from the outside." She walked down the hall, but I had the feeling she would be back. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.