Those damn shoulder muscles of his, man…
“Six months, Benni… Six. Do you realize how fast that’s gonna fly?” He sounds as excited as I feel, serving himself a glass of water.
It’s the most mundane thing ever, and yet, I can’t wait to do it too. “Not fast enough, trust me. A week in here feels like a year.”
Bringing the glass to his lips, he takes a long, satisfying sip. “Bet if I pull you into that closet once a week, it’ll fly.”
Yes, please. “You can pull me into that closet whenever,” I quip. “I’m ready for more.”
The clink of the glass echoes through the headphones as he sets it down on the countertop and gives me that stare. I know that stare, can feel its effects despite the fact we’re currently separated by a phone screen.
“What?” I play it off casually, rolling onto my stomach.
“I want you. That’s what,” he deadpans, and I swear a hoard of butterflies erupt in my stomach. “And you tell me that you want me, that you want more, but I haven’t even gotten my kiss yet.”
“Yes, you did.” My cheeks heat just thinking about it, but he shakes his head.
“That kiss didn’t belong to me, bebé. Not all of it anyway. Your mind was somewhere else. I want you, completita.” Completely.
He doesn’t sound upset, but he’s clearly not happy about it either. And truthfully, neither am I. I’d wanted his kiss so badly, had been waiting for it all week, and all it took was a few simple—albeit eerily familiar words—to ruin it. Ángel’s stupid memory ruined it for me, and in turn, I ruined it for Andrés. It should have been nothing but fireworks.
Or should it?
None of this is supposed to be happening in the first place. Just because we’ve accepted there’s likely no stopping this doesn’t change the facts.
That should’ve been more than enough to finally keep me away, but it’s not...and I don’t. I want Andrés as badly as I want to walk free. I want his kiss, his touch. I want him to erase those ugly pieces of my past and replace them with new memories. And who knows? If this thing takes over like I’m truly starting to anticipate it will, we might have a shot at making it work for real once I’m released.
I don’t know that I could ever be his everything, but moral of the story is—I want him, and I’m ready to leave Ángel behind.
“You just need to take me... I want you, too, and you know it.” At my shy smile, one of his dark brows arches, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he goes about shutting off all the lights in his apartment and sliding into his bed.
A bed I’d kill to be in right about now.
“You just sealed the deal, my little Birdy. This is what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a plan, but if we do this, we need to stick to it, tightly,” he stresses. “Otherwise, it won’t work, and we’ll definitely get caught.”
My heart races at the mention of a plan and the risk it could present for my early release, but I’m intrigued no less, ready to make a move if it means five minutes alone with this man. “Lay it on me.”
“Oh, I’ll lay it on you, all right.” He grins, waggling his eyebrows, which has me slapping a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing too loud.
“Shut uppp. Tell me the plan.”
“One of the third-shift dudes needs someone to cover him for a week. He originally had coverage from one of the D Block guards…Ryker’s his name…but he just got suspended while they investigate him—something about sexual misconduct—so now Zhao is shitting his pants ‘cause he’s supposed to leave this coming week, and they won’t let him if he can’t get it covered.”
What stands out most from that entire explanation is Ryker. He finally...got caught? And they’re investigating him?
My stomach churns nervously at this new string of information, a wad of bile threatening to shoot its way up my throat. I’m trying not to freak out, trying not to be cynical and assume the worst. I mean, I don’t have the whole story, and I’m sure Andrés probably doesn’t either. Ryker could’ve gotten caught with anyone, not just Franca, but something about the fact there’s an investigation taking place makes me feel like this isn’t him getting caught red-handed in a closet and being escorted off the premises. Something tells me this was done out of spite, and if that’s the case, it’s a very real possibility that Ryker will open his mouth just to save himself.
And if he does that, not only does that mean that Franca and Kori are going down, I might be too—because those bitches definitely won’t hesitate to mention I was involved. That I was Koko’s original way in and was reaping the benefits without doing any of the dirty work.
My stomach churns again, harder, as my entire world comes crashing down, obliterating the high I’d been riding since leaving Judge’s office.
Fuck. FUCK! They’ll take my early release for sure, shove me in Seg, and throw away the key for God knows how long. I’ll have time added, too, won’t get to see Mama...
This can’t be happening right now.
And yet, it is. This is what I get, this is what I fucking get for getting greedy. Money really is the root of all evil, robbing you of your happiness and freedom. Funny how I told Ángel that all he cared about was money. Kinda rich coming from me when I was the exact same when I am the exact same. Lena told me not to trust Koko, but all I could see and cared about were the dollar signs.
“So, what does that mean?” I force myself to ask, hoping my sudden unease isn’t shining through. Andrés knows what landed me in here, but he doesn’t know about my behind-the-scenes prison hustle, and I have
