Page 32 of On Your Life

I don’t know what stage of grief this is, but the fact that I don’t have an outlet for it is just adding fuel to the fire.

She’s walking around her cell, everyone else has long been asleep but she keeps organizing and reorganizing her commissary items like she’s decorating. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth so hard.

“Inmate, get in your bunk,” I say over the intercom of her cell.

She jumps back from whatever she’s doing, startled by the sound of my voice and something inside of my chest loosens. The boiling anger drops a fraction.

“I need to speak with you,” she says.

Why the hell would she want to speak with me?

Her big eyes stare directly at the camera and there’s something almost annoyed in them. The nerve. She has no right to be annoyed with me. There is nothing she could possibly have to say that would be of any value.

But what if she comes to me and begs? What if she finally admits that she can’t sleep at night because of me? That every noise outside her cell makes her wonder if I’m coming?

Alright little killer, I’ll bite.

“Three minutes inmate.”

I press the button and listen to the lock release. She walks down the stairs with haste, her white undershirt clinging to her body. Pert nipples and perfect tits practically stare me in the face and I have to force my gaze away before I forget who I’m dealing with.

Get your fucking head straight.

“What do you want, killer? I ask.

The words roll off of my tongue like acid and I hope every syllable burns.

“I just wanted to call a truce,” she says.

I have to close my mouth and bite down on my tongue. A fucking truce? I’m the threat here, not her.

“I’m also not a killer. If you actually attended the trial you’d know that.” She leans over the desk, bringing herself closer and pressing those perky tits right into my view. My attention betrays me before I drag it back to her face. “I just want to be able to shower and sleep in peace. Is that too much to ask?” Her eyes narrow. “Or would you like your captain to hear about it?”

“A word of advice killer,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Don’t go near the wolf that sees you as prey.” The words spill from my lips laced in venom. “You won’t get to sleep, breathe, or even bathe your fucking cunt without thoughts of me filling your vacant mind because before long that’s what it will fucking become—vacant and beyond repair.”

For a moment, she’s speechless. I think I’ve got her. But those green eyes stay fixed on mine, calm and assessing. It makes my skin crawl.

“Suit yourself then,” she says with a shrug and turns her back to me.

Now I’m the one that’s speechless. What the hell was that?

Her door slams and the locking mechanism echoes throughout the pod. Everyone is still asleep or at least they appear to be. I have half a mind to go upstairs and remind her who the fuck she’s dealing with.

It’s almost one in the morning and I still have a long night ahead. The energy drink burns my throat as I swallow it down before tossing the can in the garbage.

Fuck her.

***

I stare at her through the camera. She’s curled up tightly beneath her blanket, nothing but the outline of her body visible. She hasn’t moved since our encounter and it’s taking everything in me not to go up there and rip the fabric out of her hands.

A million scenarios would run through her head. At this point she knows that I will stop at nothing to execute my revenge.

Her breathing would get faster, sweat would form on her brow and that too tight top would start to feel suffocating. To drive the point home I would rip that from her too, her skin would be slick with beading sweat running down to those perfect nipples. What would she do if I ran my tongue from their peaks to her throat? Bite her neck like the animal she has awakened inside of me?

My cock grows hard beneath my pants to the point of pain and I pause.

What the fuck? Have I lost my goddamn mind?