Quinten dropped his forehead and Saige could see the fight going on inside of him. She knew he didn’t want to break down…knew that he wanted to reach for her like she was reaching for him. Then his watery eyes met hers. “I love you, Saige. Don’t ever forget how much I love you. Promise me.”
Saige had no fight left in her and sobbed at the desperation behind Quinten’s words. “I love you too, and I promise I won’t ever forget how much you love me...but you have to promise me that you won’t give up. We’re trying to get you a stay, and Alex and Coulter both think that we have enough to put doubt on your original trial to get a new one. We’re trying.”
“I’m sorry to do this,” the warden interrupted, “but Quinten needs to be escorted back to his cell.”
How was she supposed to let go of him? Even without all her memories of their time together she felt the connection that had obviously been there before.
“Saige,” Coulter lifted her to her feet, but Quinten kept a tight hold on her hand, as though he couldn’t let her go either.
When Quinten stood, Saige leaned into him and wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him close, her face buried in his neck. “I’ll be back. I promise.” She raised her face to his and placed a tender kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“It’s time,” the warden interjected.
She felt Coulter behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Quinten, her fingers reaching to hold on to him even as he was led out of the room.
“Saige, you have to calm down.” Coulter turned her to face him and cupped her cheeks. “Look at me. Now, Saige.” She met his concerned eyes, her sobs slowed at the urgency in Coulter’s tone. “That’s better. Listen to me. You need to calm down before the warden refuses you entry again. Do you hear me? He can do that.”
The shock of Coulter’s words penetrated and her sobs turned to hiccups as she took the tissue from him.
“I’m okay.” She sniffled, and turned for the door.
“You’re not,” Coulter mumbled. “But I’ll accept that until we get out of this place.”
* * *
12:10pm
* * *
Quinten stopped outside of the room and stumbled into the wall. The guard went to move him along but the warden stopped him.
“Give him a minute.”
While he’d waited for Saige to walk into the room, he hadn’t known what to expect, and that in there, wasn’t even like anything he’d imagined. His heart had nearly pounded out of his chest when Saige had entered. Although she’d changed her hair color, she was still the woman he loved. She was still her.
Her touch had unmanned him—the first touch from someone who cared about him in eight years. He knew touching was prohibited between prisoners and visitors, so he’d been surprised that the warden had allowed it. A part of him wished that he hadn’t because he now craved more.
Why had the warden been so lenient with him, not that he was about to complain, but he needed to know. His eyes sought out those of the warden. “Why did you allow that?”
Warden Roscoe nodded to the guard. “We’ll talk in your cell.”
Quinten let them lead him back to his small space and tried to control his breathing so he didn’t panic. The shackles came off and then he dropped to his bed and placed his head into his hands.
“Is there anything else you can tell me to help your case? Anyone who seemed out of place during the trial?”
Quinten shook his head and met Roscoe’s gaze. “Why now?”
“I’ve always wondered about your guilt, something a man in my position is not supposed to do. I see people confessing their innocence every day and it has never been my job to question what the courts have decided. But you are different. I’ve been around murderers for years and never have I met anyone like you before. Hearing Ms. Lockwood, the victim, made me realize that something isn’t right.”
“You don’t get a say in what happens to me now that the governor has signed the...warrant.” He could barely say the word.
“I can write a letter in support of a stay.”
Quinten’s eyes snapped to him. “You’d do that?”
“It’s unethical to get involved this closely, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to help you.” He gave him a sad glance as he stepped away from the bars. “I can’t promise you anything other than I’ll write the letter. The rest is up to the governor, and the committee.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded and went to step away before he stopped and looked back at Quinten. “In the meantime, try to think about people who were around back then…people who were around you immediately before and after your arrest…in court during the trial. It would give the detective more leads and get him closer to finding the real culprit.” With those words the warden nodded again, and disappeared.
Left alone, he knew that he shouldn’t hope, but he’d been offered a lifeline and he wanted to grab it and hold tight.