7
KILLIAN
As I walk backto my office, I want to laugh. I hold back of course and maintain my composure in front of the guard, but the urge is still there.
I claimed her. She’s mine.
My cock is still half hard, stuffed into my suit pants, forcing an annoying hitch in my step as I walk.
I feel like a new man. The dull walls of the prison seem to glow beside me, and the cold echoes of my steps feel warm. Hopeful. And it’s all because of Alice.
This prison was built to house criminals, but it also became a cage for me. I used it to isolate myself from women. To retreat from the world. But she changed all that. And now I can feel things inside me returning, clicking into place like long discarded pieces.
These feelings for her are foreign but welcome. No other woman has had me tumbling over myself like her. Even combat never gave me this adrenaline rush that I’m still coming down from.
She’s the one. I’m more sure of it now than ever.
But all that must be pushed from my mind as I reach the office door. It’s open, and I see a dark figure seated inside, his back to me. It’s been years, but I recognize him immediately.
Chad Dickson…
“Do you need me to stay, sir?” the guard asks. I shake my head.
“No, you can go.”
Flexing my hands at my sides, I walk coolly and calmly into my office. Chad may be a prick, but he’s skilled at reading people. I can’t show a single sign that might make him suspect something has changed.
Which is going to be difficult, considering my entire world has shifted.
“Chad,” I mutter as I circle around to my desk and remain standing. He’s got his lawyer, Dillon Bernier, with him. Of course he does. Chad is a man who can’t handle his own problems. “What can I do for you?”
There’s a twisted smile on his lips as he looks up at me with hooded eyes and sunken cheeks.
“How are you, Killian?” he asks, his tone self-absorbed like a tired clown.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Chad. I’m fine. Why don’t you tell me why you are here?”
Chad glances up at his lawyer, snuffs out a laugh, then gets to his feet. He strolls back and forth, his eyes scouring the walls, the monitors, my desk. He takes my fountain pen and flips it several times, as if analyzing its weight.
“You know, Killian, I can’t say I like what you’ve done with the place,” he smirks. “WhenIwas warden here, the place really looked like a warden’s office. But this…” He waves his hand around in a cursory fashion. “Looks like a home.”
He’s trying to goad me. Trying to own me. Get me overly emotional before our real conversation even begins.
I think back to Alice. Her gorgeous face and bright eyes looking up at me as we made love. She’s mine now. This pathetic attempt to get under my skin isn’t going to work.
I’m the warden here now. I run this place.
I turn to Dillon. “Maybe you can tell me why you guys are here?”
Dillon is balding and compensating with a massive beard. His suit is pinstriped, like he’s a mafia tough guy, and he wears a gaudy watch like a rapper.
He clears his throat and pulls a document from his briefcase.
“A formal complaint has been filed with the Department of Corrections.”
My eyes narrow. Here it comes.
“A formal complaint…againstme?”
