Ghost ☾ j.b. & you

Chapter Nine: Orange Is The New Black

-Your P.O.V.-
"W-what?" I quivered. I was already breaking out into small sobs as the police officer placed handcuffs securely around my wrist. How could this possibly be happening? Why did Ghost allow this to happen? I thought he loved me! You don't want to hurt the ones you love, right? What am I saying? All Ghost has done is hurt me. I'm just another victim to build his ego. Now I get to pay for his mistakes.

"Miss y/l/n, you're under arrest for murder at the Crossings Motel. You have the right to remain silent and the right to attorney. Anything you say or do may be held against you in the court of law." The officer explained as he placed me in the back of the patrol car.

"Please, this is a huge mistake!" I defended, but it was no use as he slammed the door shut.

-Justin's P.O.V.-
Watching from a distance as they hauled you away in a vehicle my existence feared of was a hard sight to see. Seeing you sob like that, begging for your innocence for a crime you didn't commit. How could I be so stupid? Why did I leave you alone? I should've taken you with me. I thought I had a smart plan. I couldn't have been more wrong.

My icy, cold heart ached at the thought of you in the back of the squad car, terrified. You weren't use to this king of life nor did I want you to be. You shouldn't be paying for my mistakes. Imagining you in a cold jail cell, full of people that are nothing like the sweet soul you are made me even more ill. I have to help you, but I can't. If I go to help you, they'll lock me up, too. That's a stupid plan.

Pacing back and forth in the parking lot as my brain sorted through the file cabinet full of ideas, I had one that was perfect. But the thing was, I would lose you. I can't have that.

After forty five minutes of pondering the idea and smoking almost an entire box of cigarettes, I dig for my cellphone. Stalking you for years made me available to access your cellphone and all it's contacts. I kept your parents numbers in my phone in case something tragic like this happened.

My thumb gazed over your mother's number. I was hesitant, but I knew I had no other option. You needed my help. I'll get you back though, darling. Don't worry. We'll be together again.

"Hello?" Your mothers' weak voice spoke. She sounded like she hasn't slept in days and cries nonstop.

"Aye, this is," I looked for a good fake name, "Jason and have some news about your daughter."

"What do you know? Is she okay? Is she dead? Oh, Lord, please tell me she's not dead." She cried.

"No, no. She's not dead, but she's not exactly in a good place."

"What do you mean? Where is she?"

"Come to New York Corrections Department located on Broadway. And bring a lawyer."

-Your P.O.V.-
I can't collect my thoughts as my mind spins in panic. Jail? I can't survive in jail. I'm too soft. I'm like a marshmallow compared to these girls. I am so terrified that I'm one move away from peeing on myself. I know, I'm weak. Being dragged to the warden's office, I contained my emotions and set them on a shelf for another time. You don't want the warden thinking your a softy. He'll just make fun of you.

A man in a black suit, about his mid fifties, and white hair that circled around his head, leaving the top of his head bald. His blue eyes made me feel uncomfortable. I knew he was judging me on the inside. I didn't the typical juvenile look. Everyone knew this. I didn't have any tattoos or criminal record once so ever. So, why am I here? Oh yeah, because I was with a crazy criminal who kidnapped me.

"Y/n, welcome. Take a seat." The warden smiled.

I took a seat in front of his desk. His custom made, metallic desk sign read;