Arresting Attraction: How To Create A Criminal

Chapter One

 "Please swallow this, Mr Rodgers."

The man, Rodgers, took the small, open container I held out for him. Within in, two blue pills. He fished them out with dirty fingers and tilted his head back, as he threw the pills down his throat. A loud gulp was emitted, before he opened his mouth, and showed me its empty contents.

I was midway through putting on a pair of blue, rubber gloves, when he handed the container back to me. I placed it on the tray beside me, picking up a small wooden stick.

Rodgers had his mouth open, still. I checked the inside of his mouth with the stick, underneath his tongue, then, rubbing his throat with my fingers. I administered a clear, plastic cup of water - Rodgers declined.

"Is there anything you'd like me to check for you?"

Rodgers let out a sly laugh and glared at me, unresponsive.

Behind me, a shuffle of military gear alerted me to the officer's presence. He coughed from behind me, a warning to Rodgers.

Rodgers slumped on his bed and turned away from me.

I stood, picking up the metallic tray beside me, now with an empty container and a half cup of water.

The officer behind me, Ryan, unlocked the cell and let me out first, trailing behind so he could then lock the cell. I paid no attention to that; placing the tray on the metal trolley outside the cell, waiting against a solid, bricked wall.

Off the edge of the trolley, hung a clipboard. I picked it up, and flipped through the pages, landing on Rodgers' file. Scanning the paperwork, I marked what I had to and, signed the bottom.

"He gives me the creeps," Ryan whispered to me, peering slightly into the cell.

I nodded, putting the clipboard back, "Glad I'm not the only one."

Ryan let out a soft laugh, and adjusted his gun — a HK416 assault rifle, issued by Military Command.

"Stop that."

"What?" He shrugged, tightening one of the straps on his bulletproof vest.

"With the gun. It makes me nervous."

He picked up the gun with one hand, "It's just a gun."

I rolled my eyes, "And if any of these guys got a hold of it, we would be fucked."

"But that won't happen."

I raised an eyebrow, "Just keep that thing away from me."

From down the cell hall, a whistle bounced off the walls.

Ryan and I both turned towards it, looking at a large, Fijian Officer gesturing towards us.

"That's universal code for, Black wants to talk to you," Ryan joked.

"You're not wrong."

Ryan offered to wheel the trolley, but I declined. Rolling it down the cell block, towards the safety gate.

Passing the cells, criminals, murderers, attackers and anything else in between swore and screamed out at us. Ryan held his gun, relaxed but firm, asserting dominance over them. I, on the other hand, keep my gaze ahead, ignoring them. The things they called scared me, I'd be lying if I said they didn't. Horrific, disgusting suggestions and crimes were what they were all good at, and they had no issue with demonstrating it.

Ryan could sense my hesitance. He brushed his arm against mine, a protective touch guiding the way.

He leaned into my ear, "They can't get you. Remember that."