As for whether I’d do it all again? Fuck yeah I would, and I wouldn’t stop. I would end the dean and his perverted ways. That’s the only thing I regret.
“It’s up to you. You want visiting hours, you do as your told.” He raises an eyebrow at me when I still don’t move. “Real pretty girl out there waiting to see you.”
I scowl. Now he’s got my interest. More than got my interest. “Sabella?” I ask, my voice coming out throaty and raw, betraying my emotions. My heart thumps heavily in my chest with excitement and relief that she’s okay.
I haven’t heard anything about her since being in here. No news was good news, I assume. It hasn’t stopped me from worrying though, the anxiety of her disappearance eating away at my stomach and mixing with my fury, turning me into a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Hence the state of my face and ribs.
Michaels shrugs. “No idea. Long, dark hair, beautiful, looks real sad. Be a shame if she didn’t get to see you.”
The world seems to slow, as my thoughts collide and spin. I pushed my hands through the small rectangular space in the bars, clasping my hands together as Michaels cuffs them, then step to the side so he can lead me out.
Dizziness washes over me as I walk. The sickness I’ve felt in my gut since this all happened begins to dissipate. Sabella is alive. Thank fuck for that. Nothing else matters right now, as long as she’s okay. A lump forms in my throat as emotion grips me.
She’s safe.
She’s okay.
She’shere.
Guilt starts to mix with my relief. I’m in here—prison. And probably going to be doing serious time. The look on her face is going to be like a knife to the heart. Fucking hell. Just take a blade and slice my throat open now. She’ll never forgive me for this. Despite the circumstances.
I should have kept my cool, but instead, I lashed out, lost control, and almost killed a man. And now, I’m not there to support either of the women I love.
Less than five minutes ago, I thought I wouldn’t change a damn thing about what I’d done, but now, I wonder. Being locked up in here, I can’t keep either of them safe.
Michaels leads me down the hallway, shouts and jeers coming from the other prisoners in the cells we pass. It doesn’t matter—theydon’t matter. My one good eye glares at them, and they snarl like fucking dogs as they back up. Even broken like I am, they know I’m dangerous.
Michaels stands to one side and uses a key to open a door leading down another long corridor. At the end, he stops and unlocks door, then brings me into a visiting room full of families, prisoners, and guards. The room is noisy, bustling with people who are angry or sobbing, grief and shock, annoyance and boredom on all their faces. A mixture of every emotion, but all with the same grim expression.
I scan the crowd, looking for Sabella, desperate to see her. The knot in my gut tightens like a noose, making it so I can’t speak and I can barely breath. I just need to see her, then I’ll deal with the rest of the shit. I’ll let The Elite help me, if they can. I’ll even beg Maxwell.
I don’t realize I’m looking down, the burden of my guilt forcing me to stare at my feet, until we come to a stop.
“Hands to yourself, no shouting, no kissing, no touching,” Michaels barks. “I’ve got a soft spot for you, Gunner,” he says quietly, “but don’t go pissing me off.”
He pushes me into my seat as I finally raise my head, my eyes meeting Patience.
Patience.
Not Sabella.
“Where’s Sab?” I ask, the hairs on my arms standing to attention. I look around the room like I might see her standing somewhere, but I already know by the anxiety shining through on Patience’s face why Sabella isn’t here. She’s still missing.
Patience shakes her head, her shoulders slumping farther than they already are. “We still can’t find her, Sam.”
I shake my head. “No,” I mumble, dread engulfing me. I squeeze my one good eye closed, clenching my hands into tight fists. “Fuck, fuck!” I growl.
“It’s going to be okay,” Patience says, and I glance at her. She looks just as broken as I feel. Dark rings circle her eyes, her lips are dry, and her hair is scraped back into a low ponytail. She looks like she hasn’t eaten in a week. Her hands are on the table in front of her, one picking at the nails on the opposing one.
“How?” I say with a shrug. “How is any of this going to be okay?”
I want to reach out and touch her, feel her smooth skin under my rough fingertips, before pulling her into my arms. I want to smell her peach shampoo as I kiss the top of her head. I want to feel her clinging to me, knowing I’m her rock. Her strength. Fucking there to protect her.
But I’m not there. I’m here, on the opposite side of the table with my life screwed up.
Patience has gone through hell because of me, and I’m not there for her.
Sabella is still missing, and I can’t even help look for her.
