I know this isn't my best work but it's the middle of the night so it's as good as it's getting for now. Hope you enjoy it anyway, and thank you for being so patient - my workload has gone crazy this week!

I'm not sure whether there's going to be one or two more chapters to this story, will depend how it pans out when I start writing the next chapter

x x x x

In the back of my mind I knew that this day would come, but I had tried not to give it too much thought.

To be honest, he was the last person on my mind.

At first it's just a smile across the dining hall. Then he comes to my cell.

Just a casual visit, he claims, to see how I'm getting on without Sara. I thought it was sweet, at first.

But it's when I am cleaning the bus – my punishment for destroying the garage wall – that he finally corners me alone.

I feel his breath on the back of my neck and his hands appear on my waist.

"About that favour you owe me…" he hisses in my ear. His breath smells of stale smoke and his hands are coarse where they rest on the edge of my stomach.

My body stiffens. It is well known that a small minority of the guards are less-than-honourable towards female inmates, but this is my first personal experience of it.

"Not now." I manage to stutter, twisting the filthy rag I am still holding through my hands nervously.

"I don't recall setting a time limit on your repayment when you crashed that bus into a wall and I saved your ass from seclusion." He mutters, gripping me tighter. "Or when I did a favour for your little girlfriend – pity she's not here to repay me for that, too."

He has a point. Not about Sara; I would never have let that happen. But the only reason I got to stay in that cell with Sara was because of his high standing with the prison officers. Anyone else would have ended up in isolation for a stunt like that, and that was a risk I hadn't considered until it was too late to go back.

He did save my ass. And I did promise him anything in return.

X x x

My stomach turns at the memory. I can still practically feel the handrail digging into my back and the tacky floor of the bus beneath my feet.

Shaking the thought away, I close my eyes and try to picture Sara's face; but like I always find, it has already faded from my memory. I focus on her eyes, her beautiful hazel eyes. Slowly, the rest of her features swim into my view.

I miss her like crazy. I knew it would be hard once she left, but I never imagined that I could feel like this about her. At first it scared me, the rush of unexpected grief; but now all I want is to hold her again.

Just one more time. To hold her and tell her that I love her.

X x x

"Flynn."

I look up weakly at the gruff voice, dropping my hand from the bruise fading around my eye. My long-lasting souvenir from Harper's 'Christmas Present' to me.

"Visitor." The guard growls, spinning on his heels and disappearing back down the hall.

I stare blankly at the spot where he had been stood, before I click on and realise that he is expecting me to follow him.

"Who is it?" I ask, jogging to catch him up. He shrugs, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath. I roll my eyes at his unhelpful ineloquence.

The whole time I have been here, I've never once had a visitor.

My immediate assumption – hope, even – is that it must be Sara, but I quickly disregard the thought. She wouldn't come back here so soon after her release, if ever.
After all, what's left for her in here?

But then who else could it be?

Eddie? Surely not.

My mother? Not a chance in hell.

X x x

Her face lights up when she sees me and she's on her feet in a heartbeat, although the smile quickly dissipates as she spots the bruises marring my face. In my curiosity, I had completely forgotten about them and I reach up self-consciously to touch them. She obviously sees me visibly wince, because she balls her hands into fists at her side. Taking a deep breath, I walk slowly towards her.

"What happened?" She asks instantly, concern flooding her pretty features as she instinctively reaches out towards me. Despite my primal urges craving her touch, I pull away from her, sending pointed glances at the nearby guards. She follows my line of sight and drops her hand reluctantly to her side.

"It's nothing." I clear my throat as we both take a seat at the worn, overused table. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." She sounds hurt at my emotionless tone.

I don't mean to sound harsh towards her, but she's ruining my plan. Regardless of my desperation to see her, I had made a promise to myself that I wasn't going to let it break me. Having her within reach, but still being unable to touch her makes it all the harder for me to keep that promise.

But I can't let myself crack in front of her now. If I do, she'll never leave.

"You shouldn't have."I insist, keeping my gaze low. "I told you not to come back here."

"I wanted to see you." I can sense the sadness in her voice and it cuts through me like a knife. "Cat, did Harper do that to you?"

I don't know why she's asking, we both know the answer.

"It's nothing." I sniff back the tears threatening to fall.

She reaches across the table, ensuring not to actually touch me.

"Catherine, I can help you." She says earnerstly. "I can talk to the officers, explain the situation to them..."

"No." I lift my head, my eyes wide. "Don't say a word."

She is visibly taken aback by my tone and retracts her hand.

"Cat, please." She begs. Looking at her now, with her naive expression and puppy dog eyes, I could almost believe that she had never even been on the inside. She looks so innocent and child-like. Just like she had when she was first thrown into my life.

"Sara, you have to go." I hiss. "Whatever happened between us is over."

I can feel the guilt eating me up inside at hurting her like this, but I don't see any other way out. Self-preservation has always been a strong suit of mine and nothing sparks it quite like someone getting too close for comfort.
Coincidently, Sara is the only person I have really felt comfortable with.

I never was a big fan of irony.

When she continues to scan my face with her confused orbs I lean across the table, so that only she can hear what I have to say. Even with the obstacle between us, I can feel her body stiffen at my whispered confession.

I push my chair back to stand up and she mimics my actions.

"Cat, wait…"

"Go home Sara." I snap, whirling on her. "Don't come back here again."

The guard, who has been watching our every interaction with thinly veiled intrique, lets me back into the corridor and slams the door behind me; sealing the end of the conversation.

As I walk away, my legs shaking, tears start to build in my eyes. I fight the urge to turn around, because I know that if I have to look into those devestated, hazel eyes one more time my heart might just break.

X x x

The cell feels so empty when I get back, as if the last little bit of her presence has left it. I drop onto her bed, a muffled sob escaping my lips.

What have I done?

No, I did the right thing. This way Sara can move on with her life and forget all about me.

Is that what I really want?

I lay back, wrapping my arms protectively around my stomach, staring up at the bottom of my own mattress.

Staring back at me is a folded piece of paper.

Reaching up with a puzzled frown, I extract it from the slats on the base of the bed and unfold it carefully.

It's a page torn from Sara's notebook.

Across the page is my name in neat cursive script, decorated by a border of flowers. On one side of the page is a long-stemmed rose.

It looks like an elaborate tattoo design.

I smile, gently stroking the picture with the pad of my thumb. A lone tear falls on the page; I hadn't even realised I was crying. I quickly attempt to dab it away before it smudges the ink.

I want her so much. I miss her.

And thanks to my actions today, I will probably never see her again.

My stomach churns once more, pain cutting through it like a knife. I feel physically sick to the core.

And no matter how much I lie to myself, I know it's more than just guilt this time.