Arresting Attraction: How To Create A Criminal

Chapter Sixteen

My hands were tied, cuffed behind my back. I had my head down, glancing at rows of feet passing, watching on from a distance.

At the small of my back was the pressure of a barrel of HK416 assault rifle. The very rifle tucked between the highly capable hands of Debby Chase. She pushed it firm against me, making sure I could feel it no matter what I did.

Inmate and guards, their roles reversed, watched on. None of the guards said anything, either on their knees, or stomachs, victims to the plague of the inmates who had taken over. The inmates were ready, some laughed, others whistled. They had waited for this escape.

I kept my head down, my eyes focused on my shoes as Debby navigated me through the facility, never stopping, never faltering. She knew where she was going, and was in charge.

I wanted nothing more than to cry. I could feel the bubbling of emotions in my stomach, ready to surge when the pressure got too much. But, I hid it. I tried to stay calm.

Drops of blood fell from my chin, as my nosebleed started to ease. A couple of dots landing on my shoes, on my pants. Some ran into my mouth, sitting on my lip, marring my skin with red. I wanted to wipe it away, clean myself of the wet substance stuck on my face. But, something told me tI wasn't going to get that anytime soon.

As concrete floors, passed through gated, metal doors, the surroundings because cold, familiar.

It was the first time I had looked up.

Approaching the elevator, Debby thrust her gun harder into my back.

"Faster," she said, flat.

I quickened my pace, entering the small space, while she followed not far behind.

Without the aid of a pin and finger print, the elevator moved. Come to think of it, all the doors and gates were open, uncheckable. I'd place my bets on Frankie fixing everything. I knew that much. He wouldn't have spent long before he unlocked and accessed on file information from the facility.

Debby pushed me out of the elevator once it had landed.

We stepped out into an empty hallway.

Max Hold 1's hallway with inmates was eerie, with no-one anyone nearby, it was quiet, too quiet. No sounds came from around, it was silent. Crickets chirped and the soft whistle of exotic birds called, but other than that, all sounds were minimal.

Artificial steps echoed over concrete as Debby guided me towards a cell; Charlie's cell.

She took lead, stepping in front of me, and opening the gate.

I kept my eyes averted, glancing anywhere by her.

I was naive to think she'd just let me enter and be on her way. As I stepped foot over the threshold of the room, two hands nestled into my shoulder blades, pushing me forward.

I went down. My hands strained against the cuffs, trying to catch my fall. But, it was all useless.

I'd seen Charlie pushed and shoved, falling to the ground, wondering about the pain, but experiencing it first hand was something else entirely.

Charlie Thomas and I were completely different people. He's spent a lifetime dealing with abuse. He'd been in fights, been in prisons, he'd gotten himself used to the feeling of pain and hurt.

I, on the other hand, was weak. Middle class life taught you nothing about physical pain. I knew that when I turned my head, opting to bruise my cheek rather than the possibility of breaking my nose.