“Seriously, Brie? An old, abandoned penitentiary? This may be the weirdest date, but compared to the museum, this is so much more my style,” he admits.
“My dad would agree with you. He loved the history and the architecture. After spending hours being bored out of his mind around all of that art, he’d drag us here. Honestly, I think he liked creeping Mom out, but it became tradition.”
“If you say so,” he says, sounding unsure.
“I do. Now, come on. Let’s see if we can catch a tour. It’s the best way to explore.”
We’re fortunate to make it in time for a tour that’s just starting, and I can tell that Rafe’s much more into this than the art museum. I can’t blame him. There’s something truly fascinating about crime. The intrigue, the drama, and the way the tour guides romanticize it, even while outlining the horrors of being housed in a prison such as this one, are captivating.
“Can you believe it?” I ask him as we pass cells I could never imagine living in for a day, let alone a lifetime. “Solitary confinement with no chance of outside contact ever? That’d be torture enough,” I say, shuddering.
The tour guide details the original prison system that allowed no inmates to ever come in contact with each other.
“It makes you wonder why places like this couldn’t be a deterrent,” he quips. “Why do terrible things when you run the risk of getting locked up? It makes no sense to me.”
The tour guide interrupts our conversation as we come to a cell that’s more extravagant than most of the others. She tells us that one of their most famous inmates was Al Capone, not that the penitentiary was much of a hardship for him.
“It doesn’t look so bad. It’s actually quite stylish with the fancy lamps, wooden desk, and sitting chair. And seriously? He had a record player, for Christ’s sake! It was like an extended time-out where he still had his toys to play with. Nothing like what the other inmates endured. Mobsters today probably don’t even have it this good.”
“You’d be surprised,” Rafe grumbles quietly next to me as his eyes search the cell. “All prisons and punishments aren’t created equal, not even today.”
I frown then jab him in the side. “Oh, like you know this?”
He looks down at me with a soft smile. “Of course not. Just a hunch. Men like Capone? Wealthy, powerful, connected? They tend to get off easier than most.”
As I study Capone’s cell, I think about Rafe’s words and wonder if they’re true. Do the rich and powerful really get luxuries, even today? Sure, television and movies would make you believe so. But in reality? I hate to think that it’s true, but I sigh, knowing that even our justice system is flawed.
A loud bang echoes, and I turn to see that the tour group’s no longer in this hall. I must’ve zoned out while looking at the cell. The hall is dark, and I glance around for Rafe, but he’s nowhere to be found. An eerie chill creeps up my spine as goose bumps crawl across my skin. As many times as I’ve come here, I’ve never been alone. Stories of hauntings and ghostly sightings flash in my memory.
“Rafe?” I call out, my voice echoing.
There is no response. Could he have gone ahead? Would he have left me back here? My instincts tell me no, but when I turn around to go backward, all I see is darkness. I try to push down the mild panic that’s rising and close my eyes, willing myself to take deep breaths. Just as I build enough confidence to forge ahead, to find the group, something brushes my arm and I let out a startled gasp.
“Brie!” Rafe exclaims.
Relief flows in me. I open my eyes to see him watching me, concerned. I shove him back.
“Jesus Christ, Rafe. You scared the hell out of me!” I tell him before wrapping my arms around him to ease my pounding heart. “Where’d you go?”
He smooths out the hair on my head and smiles down at me. “You weren’t scared down here all alone, were you?”
I shove him again. “Shut up. It’s creepy when you’re all alone.”
He laughs then holds up his cell phone. “Sorry. I had a phone call and didn’t want to bother anyone, so I stepped back out into the main corridor. You were so engrossed in Capone. I didn’t want to disturb you and figured I’d catch up.”
“Oh. Everything okay?”
He sighs. “I hate to cut this short, baby, but I have an emergency meeting with a client. Can I drop you off? We’ll continue this date later?” he asks, his voice hopeful.
Is he kidding? I’m more than okay with leaving this place now. It’s thoroughly spooked me. “Of course. I’m tired anyway since someone woke me up too early,” I tell him, poking him in the stomach.
“Well, then. I better get you home so you can nap. I want you to have all of your energy for tonight.” There’s a devilish gleam in his eye.
I shiver in anticipation. I wonder if he’ll always affect me this way. God, I hope he does.
As we walk back to the car, he tells me stories of Capone and other mobsters, and I’m surprised at his knowledge. It must be a guy thing, because Dad was the same way. And a small pang hits my heart. The two of them would’ve gotten along so well, yet they’ll never get the chance.
By the time we make it back to Rafe’s apartment, he apologizes again for having to leave, but the truth is that I could use some time alone. After brewing a cup of hot tea and changing into Rafe’s discarded shirt from the night before, I settle onto the sofa. I turn the television on, mindlessly flipping through the channels as Rafe goes to the bedroom to change. My eyes feel heavy, and just as I’m about to close them, his lips touch mine. Slowly, I open them and tilt my head to take in the sight of him in a suit and tie. He looks absolutely delicious and sexy. Suddenly, I’m wide awake.