“Why? Have you just … accepted what’s gonna happen to you?” Her perfect reporter diction falters as her voice rises in frustration.
“No.”
Rain straightens her spine for the camera and regains control of her Southern accent. “Then, can you tell us what’s going through your mind right now?”
Her eyes plead with me to give her hope. To promise her that I have a plan. But all I have is the knowledge that I’ve survived every shitty fucking thing this life has thrown at me so far, and somehow, that feels like enough.
It has to be.
“Right now?” I say, staring into her eyes as if my gaze alone could dry her tears. “Right now, I’m only thinking about right now. About how a beautiful woman can walk into your life when you least expect it. About how quickly things can change.” Rain drops her eyes again, and I can’t help but smile. “And I’m also thinking of about a million and one ways I can try to escape.”
Elliott snatches the microphone away from Rain with an awkward laugh and faces the camera, forcing his way in between us.
“Ha! My man Parker’s got jokes, y’all! Tune in tomorrow at six to see him, and yours truly, walk the Green Mile! Stay safe out there, and may the fittest survive!”
Elliott holds his serious TV news anchor face until Flip indicates that the recording is over. Then, he lights up like a Christmas tree. “Am I a natural or what? Listen”—he steps forward and places his hands on Flip and Michelle’s shoulders, turning them toward the hallway—“if y’all ever need another guest reporter, I’d be more than happy to …” His voice trails off as he walks them down the hall.
It’s suddenly just me.
And Rain.
And about two-dozen steel bars in between us.
“There’s a camera,” I spit out before she has a chance to do or say anything incriminating.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Elliott’s voice sings from the doorway, making Rain jump.
“Boy, when you said you had friends in the TV industry, I didn’t know you meant you had friends in the TV industry. Haaaay!” He snaps his fingers.
“Did y’all see me? I killed that shit! I … murdered … that … shit!” Elliott claps his hands to punctuate every word. “Ooooh lawd, that felt good. Did it look good? Don’t answer that. I know it looked good! Ha-ha!”
Rain gives me a nervous glance.
“You came through, handsome. I don’t know how, but you said you was gonna help me out, and you did that shit. I’mma have me my own show in no time!”
Then, like a switch being flipped, he goes into cop mode as he turns to face Rain.
“But it’s real obvious that your little friend, Ms. McCartney, here ain’t who she says she is.”
My jaw clenches shut.
No, you motherfucker. Leave her alone.
“Y’all couldn’t keep ya damn hands off each other during that whole interview.”
At the mention of hands, mine ball into fists.
I will fucking kill you.
“Stand-in reporter? Please. This bitch has about as much charisma as a mug shot. The second she walked in, I knew you two was fuckin’.”
Elliott reaches into his pocket, and I try to gauge whether or not he’s close enough for me to choke him through the bars.
“So I’mma do you a solid, lover boy.” Elliott pulls his hand out of his pocket, producing a set of keys, and sticks one in the lock on my cell.
Then, with a wink, he yanks open the squeaky door and gives Rain a shove. Her heels click against the concrete floor as she stumbles forward, landing directly against my chest.
“Consider this your last meal.” He smirks. “You got twenty minutes.”
Slam!
My heart thuds in time with his footsteps as they echo down the hallway, and Rain’s heart beats even faster where it’s pressed against my chest.
She’s here.
Holy shit.
She’s right fucking here.
I wrap my arms around her trembling body and squeeze so hard I’m afraid I might crush her. Even when she’s in heels, her head fits under my chin. I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I close my eyes and pretend that time has stopped, just for us. That tomorrow isn’t coming. That we’re fleshy statues now, and we can stay like this forever.
But we can’t because Rain’s trembles are now full-body shudders as the sob she’s been trying to hold in leaks out all over my orange jumpsuit.
“Wes,” she cries, burying her face in my neck. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have let them take you! I should have—”
“Shh.” I smooth a hand over her hair and feel her breath, hot and desperate, on my skin.
Rain lifts her tear-streaked face. Her pouty red lips tremble as they pull into a frown, but before she can let out another sob, I seal her mouth with mine. She tastes sad and girlie—all salty tears and cherry lip gloss—but she kisses me back with the determination of a woman. Her tongue slides and swirls around mine. Her tits, practically bursting out of that too-tight blouse, press against my chest. And her hands dive into my hair, holding me like a balloon in danger of floating away. Then, her kisses begin to roam.
“I love you so much,” she murmurs, kissing my cheek.
“Oh my God, I missed you.” Her kisses trace the line of my jaw.
“This is all my fault.” She breathes against my neck. “I’m gonna get you out. I promise. I’ll … I’ll figure something out.”
“Hey.” I capture her face in my hands and tilt it back so that I can stare directly into her wide, panicking eyes when I tell her, “I’ll get myself out. Do you hear me? You shouldn’t be here.”
Rain’s eyelids close as she exhales a quiet, shuddering sob. “This is the only place I want to be.”
Without looking up, Rain grips my zipper and slides it down my chest. I grit my teeth as she reaches in and wraps her arms around my exposed torso, pressing her wet cheek against my bare skin. My
