“Is there areasonyou’re in my room?”
I slant my head to the side and raise a brow. Why did his voice hitch like that? It had a weird twang to it like when Daddy was thirsty, but I hadn’t fetched water from the well yet. It was throaty and deep and, in all honesty, a little scary.
Hoping if I alleviate his curiosity, he will ease mine, I join him bedside while taking my hair clip and rusty nail from my pocket. Dexter’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree when he spots what I’m clasping. “You broke into my room!” I don’t know why he sounds delighted, but I’m certain that’s the emotion he is displaying.
After preparing my face for the sting of his hit, I nod.
Dexter’s slap never comes. He continues peering at me with joy on his handsome face like I am the answer to his prayers. It’s the same look Nick gave me when I offered him a ride all those years ago. He was so pleased for my assistance, love and admiration poured from every orifice in his body.
Dexter returns my focus to him by tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I like that. That’s a nice thing for him to do. It makes me feel cherished—loved even. “Can you pick any locks, Claudia, or just the ones on patients’ doors?”
The awe radiating from him inspires a competitive edge I haven’t felt in years. I’ve been picking locks since middle school. It started more as a hobby before it grew into a need.
I needed to see Nick, but the locks on his door kept us apart.
I soon took care of them.
My eyes stray to the itty-bitty lock on the window in Dexter’s room. It will be an easy latch to showcase my talents. It won’t even take a second.
My steps toward the grill-covered window stop when Dexter says, “Not that one. That’s too easy for someone as talented as you. How about we find a harder one?”
His velvety tone secures my attention, but his index finger pressed against his lips holds it. His lips are incredibly plump, similar to how Nick’s looked after he kissed me for the first time. We only kissed twice, but I’ve never forgotten them. Our kisses were sweet and full of mutual admiration.
Dexter waits for me to agree to his request to be quiet before he tiptoes to his bedroom door. He cracks it open then checks if the coast is clear. Happy the hallway is empty as it should have been five minutes ago, he gestures for me to follow him. I do, although warily.
“What about that one? Can you work your magic on that one?” Dexter asks a short stroll later.
He hooks his thumb to a door the guards stomp in and out of every morning and afternoon. The lock is more intricate than your standard household locks, but it’s no more difficult than the deadlock Nick’s dad placed on his front door after Nick rudely kicked me out of his house.
Nick had no right to be angry that day. I wasn’t the one who constantly visited a whore the instant the love of my life left town.
Argh!The things they did together made my blood boil. It is too disgusting for words. My daddy said there’s only one time a man should touch me where Nick touchedher—that is when he wants to put a baby in my belly.
Nick placed a baby inherbelly not long after they met, so he had no reason to do what they did again.
And again.
And again.
Fueled by annoyance about what Nick and his whore could be doing right now, I storm to the door to assess the lock more diligently. I’ve been toeing the line for years with the hope good behavior would get me back to my love sooner rather than later. It didn’t work, so it’s time to step outside the box.
The lock is a multiple-teeth combination that will require more than two instruments. I’m honestly unsure if my woozy head is up to it. Dexter’s constant bickering with the staff didn’t just affect his dosage of medication. My increments increased as well.
“What is it?” Dexter asks a short time later, confused by the delay.
His response is expected. I did bolt over here like my backside was on fire, only to wilt like a sunflower stuck in a shadow. That happens a lot when the doctors alter my medication. I have soaring highs and devastating lows.
With my head a twisted mess of confusion, I scan the corridor, seeking additional equipment I can use to jimmy the lock. Dexter’s mischievous afternoon awarded him an additional visit from grumpy guards, meaning a tray of medical equipment stands a few paces up from his bedroom door.
I point to the cart, wordlessly demanding Dexter bring it to me. He follows suit without a single qualm. That’s more shocking than the excitement radiating from him in invisible waves. And I’m not going to mention the crazy things it does to my muddled heart.
With a hair clip, syringe, and my trusty old nail, the security office door pops open thirty seconds later. My mouth hangs as low as Dexter’s. I didn’t think I had it in me, but this proves nothing can stand in the way of greatness.
Maybe I still have a chance?
Perhaps I’m not too late to prove to Nick how much I love him?
I just need to get him away fromherlong enough he’ll remember the connection we share.
