Arresting Attraction: How To Create A Criminal

Chapter Fifteen

It had been a couple of weeks since the yard incident.

Leroy had been brought in almost instantaneously, forced into isolation, condemning him for what he had done to Charlie. Meanwhile, security camera went over and over, analysing footage to try and figure out what went wrong, how he got the chemicals for the molotov, and how to ensure safety in the facility from then on.

The security tightened from that day on.

No civilians were granted entry into or around the yard - for one. Only the monitoring guards were allowed in the area, and they dealt very briefly with the inmates.

Charlie and I had numerous workshops, looking after and nursing his back until they were fully healed. He had scarred, but it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed, if that was what he wished. But, Charlie was infamous for his scars, and opted for leaving them as they were.

I glanced down at my wrist: 3:45pm.

I was waiting beside Psych Room one, files in my embrace as I waited for Charlie and his guards to appear.

It was a cold afternoon. Rain was pouring, barely streaming through the minimal lighting around the facility.

I put my weight on one foot, then the other, as I heard oncoming footprints enter the hallway. And, appearing around a corner, was Charlie, guided by Ryan and McCoy.

McCoy offered me a polite head nod, as he jumped around Charlie, and unlocked the door.

"Still no keys?" He asked.

I shook my head, walking in, "I think I just misplaced them. They'll turn up."

"Better make sure you find them soon. We wouldn't want them in the wrong hands."

I offered him a smile, "I know that all too well."

I entered the room and made my way to the table, sitting in the seat with my back to the door. I set out my paperwork in front of me and folded my hands over the file.

Ryan walked Charlie into the room with me, pushing him down in the seat facing the door.

Charlie leaned forward as Ryan undid the cuffs from behind his back, letting his arms free. The inmate stretched his limbs, cracking the tight muscles, stretching out.

Ryan barely looked at me.

"Afternoon," I piped up.

He nodded a returned hello, but otherwise, made his fastest attempt to leave the room.

Charlie let out a low whistle.

"He's cheerful, isn't he?"

I shook my head and flipped over the file, my hands crossing over the latest report in his file - his last psychology report.

"How is my favourite doctor?" Charlie smiled, leaning towards me with a grin crossing his face.

"Nurse," I corrected, flushing red.

"Sorry. Nurse," he sung, his golden eyes twinkling.

The more time I spent with Charlie, the more I realised how strange and oddly striking his features were. Yet, all in all, they were incredibly perfect.

His face was thick, structured. His cheekbones high on his face, glittering under light, prominent as much as his cheeks were swallowed and dark, defined. His jaw was prominent, as he moved his head around, cracking his neck.

Charlie's eyelashes were dark, thick, framing. His eyes were speckled with brow and green, a mixture of a thousand suns, twirling and discolouring. They were animalistic and unique. They were reflections and reflecting, catching the lights of a room.