He shrugs. “Just some guys who thought they’d introduce me to the system of how things work around here. How’s everyone doing?” he asks.
Maggie goes ahead to give him updates of what is happening, but my thoughts are spinning in circles. My eyes can’t get enough of him. She pauses and darts a glance my way, but ends up telling him about his dad moving away from home.
It’s painful watching Cole’s face fill with sadness.
His mom excuses herself to go to the bathrooms.
I swallow around the lump in my throat, unfold my hands from my lap and place them flat on the table.
“What happened, Cole?” I ask, as a tear rolls down my cheek.
He rubs his forehead, and when he meets my gaze again, his eyes look tired, tortured. He moves his hand inch by inch in my direction. I meet him halfway, glancing around to make sure we are not being watched. He quickly brushes the tip on his index finger on my pinkie finger twice before pulling back.
“It’s nothing. I promise.” He bites his bottom lip, studying me. “You have lost a lot of weight, Snowflake. This is not your fault. I knew what I was doing when I raised my fist to punch him. I would do it all over again, if it meant keeping you safe, Nor. I did this and not you.”
I shake my head. “I should have known he would never stop until he destroyed us. You. Sometimes I wonder if I have that trait in me. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Cole. I would rather lose you than turn out to be like him. His obsession is a sickness.”
He leans forward, his eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t talk like that, Eleanor Blake. You are nothing like your father. You will never lose me. Your father is a sick bastard. You are not him, do you hear me?” He lifts his hands and signs, “I love you so much.”
“And I love you so much.”
“Miss Eleanor?” A deep voice says, pulling me away from Cole and his wound.
Startled, I look over my shoulder to find Mr. Taylor, walking toward us. He smiles wide, stretching his hand in greeting. “I thought it was you.”
I climb to my feet, surprised to see him here. I extend my hand to him and smile. “Mr. Taylor. How have you been? How’s your mom doing?”
He shakes my hand, then steps back, his gaze switching over to Cole and I swear his gaze softens slightly.
“My mother’s not doing so bad. Did you stop working at the center?”
I nod. “School has taken up most of my time. But I’ll come back in summer.” I pause, looking around the room. “Are you here for a visit?”
He shakes his head. “I work here. I’m the warden of this facility.” He looks at Cole and offers his hand in a handshake.
“You remember Cole. You two met when we dropped by at Grandma’s house a few months ago.”
“I remember him. Your grandmother speaks very highly of him.” He turns to Cole. “I heard about what happened. The people in here are messed up sons of bitches. Lie low and keep your head down, son.” He purses his lips, opens his mouth to say something but stops and directs his gaze at me.
“It was great to see you, Miss Eleanor.” He shakes our hands before leaving.
Maggie returns and we continue chatting. I can’t shake off the fear swimming in my belly.
Our visiting time comes to a close and we say goodbye.
I turn around to leave, my heart heavy and feeling sick to my stomach. Cole calls my name. I stop and turn around to face him.
“I need you to do me a favor, Nor,” he says, his gaze intense to the point of feverish.
“Anything.”
“Don’t come back. Please.”
I feel as if someone ripped my heart through my chest. “What?”
He braces a hand on the table as if he’s about to collapse and tears brim in his eyes. “I don’t want you to come back.”
Sweat beads my forehead and I’m getting a little lightheaded. “Cole, don’t ask me to do that. God, please don’t do this,” I beg him as tears start to burn my eyes. I blink back furiously. “No. You don’t get to tell me not to visit you.” I declare stubbornly.
He’s wearing this tortured look on his face now, as if whatever he’s about to say will cost him his life and his hands are balled into fists at his sides. Veins pop up along his arm. “Nor. I’ll request your name to be removed from the visitor’s list.”
“Cole! You can’t do that to her,” Maggie says, desperation in her voice. “Think about it, sweetheart. You don’t really want to do that.”
“Cole, please. Don’t do this.” I plead again. When he continues to stare at me, I finally let the tears fall, which is his undoing.
He wipes his face with his hands. “I don’t want you to see me like this. This is killing me. If you love me, stay away. Write to me. Wait for me. Don’t give up on me.”
He turns and walks away before me or his mom can say another word.
Once we step out of the room and we collect our belongings, Maggie puts her arm around my shoulder and we walk to her car.