I froze in my tracks, all the noise faded away as my eyes landed on her. She had her back to me as she sat alone at one of the metal tables. I might not be able to see her face, but I had memorized every single thing about her before I had left – and I’d know that backside anywhere. Her hair was a dead giveaway too, always so shiny. If I touched it, I knew it would feel like silk under my fingertips. I should turn around and deny the visit, go back to my push-ups and try to forget that Adrianna Pastore existed, but my feet moved towards her betraying my common sense.
The truth was I could never deny myself of her. I had set my sights on her when we were teenagers. I tried to talk myself out of having her but she consumed me from the moment I laid eyes on her. I had to make her mine. The shitty thing about that was, after I finally had her I got cocky and arrogant and thought I’d never lose her. I wasn’t fucking around when I said I never did a drug, but still – I was a junkie. I was addicted to Adrianna and was too weak to deny myself a fix of her.
I rounded the table feeling her eyes on me as I took the seat in front of her. I tried not to look at her right away, knowing that when I did, I’d start to feel that burn in my chest I seemed to get every time I looked into those eyes of hers. I clenched my fists in my lap so I wouldn’t reach out and take her face in my hands, trace my fingers over every perfect feature on her face and kiss her until they carted me back to my cell. I blew out a breath, lifted my head, and succumbed to my own torture as my eyes met hers.
Those sad eyes held me captive, wishing like hell that I had never left my fucking cell; because the brokenhearted girl sitting before me tore my heart to shreds. She was pale and had circles under her eyes that made her look like she hadn’t slept in weeks, yet still she looked stunning. Even on a bad day, she could turn the head of any guy she encountered. I could just imagine what the C.O.’s said when she strut her tight ass through the metal detectors.
“What happened to your eye?” She whispered softly, lifting her hand to touch the bruise under my eye. Hesitating, she drops her hand instead, deciding against it and folds her hands neatly on top of the table.
Thank Christ, because I can’t handle her touch, not when I’m fucking trapped in a cage.
“What’re you doing here A? Pretty sure I told you not to come here no more,” I ground out, diverting my eyes to the inmate next to me sharing a laugh with his wife and son. I wonder why he’s in the can, wonder what choice he stupidly made that took him from his family.
Her eyes filled with water as she shook her head slightly.
“I don’t know what happened to you,” She whispered as she leaned in closer. My eyes instantly dropped to her chest, indulging in the tiny bit of cleavage she had on display. Her tits looked twice the size I remembered them to be. I definitely knew that tonight, when I laid in bed trying to forget her, I’d jerk off to that little glimpse of heaven she was giving me right now.
“Is someone bothering you here? You need to open your mouth if someone is instigating you. I can call the attorney and have you switched if that’s what is going on,” she rambled.
I lifted my head abruptly, shaking it in wonderment, trying to figure out when she would stop having my back. One look at me with a black eye and she was ready to go to bat for me, call a lawyer or a fucking congressman to get me switched to a different jail. She was a good girl, and I was a lucky son of a bitch to have had her in my corner. I hope the next guy knows how fucking lucky he is and treats her like gold. I hope he has the sense to hang on to her and doesn’t blow it like I did.
“I don’t need your help Adrianna,” I clipped angrily. “So if you would just get to the fucking point and then be on your way.” I look away from her knowing I’m hurting her but I don’t have a choice. She has to hate me because I can’t handle her loving me.
“For the life of me, I can’t understand why I don’t hate you. I want to hate you, I want to hate you so bad, but something inside me won’t let me.” She says sounding defeated.
“You should hate me,” I replied as I turned my head and leaned forward so my cold eyes stared deep into hers. “You should hate me with everything inside of you. You should fucking despise me A.”
“But I don’t,” she whispered, her eyes searching hopefully for something as she looks at me.
“I don’t want you coming here anymore. I don’t know how many fucking times I have to tell you. I don’t need you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you can’t live without me,” I replied angrily. “It’s not fair to you because I live just fine without you every day.”
“Is that why you let people beat on you? You’re doing so well in here that you’re someone else’s punching bag?” She tilted her chin toward my eye. “Yeah, you’re doing amazing in here.”
“Has nothing to do with you,” I lied, knowing that every fucking thing I did revolved around her, but she didn’t need to know that, she needed to forget me. She needed to let me go.