“Tanya…” I groan as I toss my purse onto the counter, wondering why I called her so soon. Hopefully my tone takes her down a few levels. “He’s not a murderer.”At least, I’m pretty sure he isn’t.“It went well, but I can’t really talk about this right now. See you in a few days?”
“Sure, sure. G’night.”
“Night.”
Getting Tanya off the phone lifts a weight from my shoulders that’s been resting there since leaving the prison. A weight in the shape of Cade.
He asked me to return.
I eye my laptop on the living room table with as much disdain as I did my first-ever essay.
Fuck,thisvisit shouldn’t have even happened. Since putting myself in his path, it makes sense he’d want me to go again. He’sliterally my thesis personified. His entire social circle consists of prison guards and other inmates—and the circumference expanded with my visit. It’s notmehe likes, but a new face, an outsider, dragged into his limited view. A psychological attachment formed on his side, and nothing else.Cadeis research. Nothing more, nothing less, and returning cannot happen.
Millie hops onto my lap and rubs against my arm, sensing distress in the way animals do.
“I know, girl. What the hell to do? Definitely can’t go back, that’s for sure.”
Even if I kind of want to.
Cade is exactly what I imagined.
Nothing I pictured.
And everything I should stay the hell away from.
His fathomless eyes—dark as the night sky and piercing like the stars they glint with—tore into my soul at the first glance. Shredded me by the time I walked away. He entices a fear inside me that makes my heart race and blood pound, but the kind of fear I’m both terrified and fervent to see where it’d go. His attention was only ever diverted once, and it was to check the time.
He’s older than I believed. For some reason, I assumed my pen pal was around my age, but he’s definitely not. Experience rolled through every syllable, his slight motions as he waited for me to react. It didn’t make sitting there, my thighs clenched, any less comfortable. It’s ridiculous to be attracted to someone I just met. Someone who screamsstay the fuck away.Someone I shouldn’t even see likethat.
I walked in planning to play meek and scared—and I truly did begin nervous—but within minutes, I was calm. I played a very dangerous game by taunting him. Beyond the letters, Idon’t truly know Cade. Everything, down to his last name, is a mystery. He could be far more dangerous than I assume.
Why else would he have such a deadly intensity? Not only his eyes but his stance. He was coiled—ready to strike. Snakes swallow their prey whole, which is exactly how I imagine he’d react if compelled to.
Cade’s bored, and I became his newest form of entertainment. He’s using me as much as I’m using his circumstance for a research paper—which he’ll never figure out.
Moving Millie off to the side, I grab a spare sheet of paper to jot a few notes about my visit:
– Subject appeared eager for the visit and requested a second. – Implies loneliness and the visit momentarily fixed that.
– Subject accepted the holiday card and held it close to his body. – Possessive over simple gifts.
– Subject directed conversation onto visitor. – Distancing himself?
– Subject didn’t attempt physical touch. (Which was allowed, stated by visitation rules.) – Trying to not seem scary?
I note as much as I can from the visit before flipping the page over and jotting a more detailed transcript of our conversation from memory, to later refer to if needed.
Then I grab my cat, change into pyjamas, slip into bed and beneath the blankets, and watch an episode of my favourite show before passing out.
Exactly what Cade predicted I do.
The rest of December passes and Cade’s next letter comes the second week of January.
Aspen,
I wish there were things I could say to you, but I can’t. So I’ll leave it simple and thank you once again for visiting. Maybe it’s forward, but you truthfully took my breath away.
Tell me about the rest of your December and into January.
