The Mechanic

Chapter Forty-nine - "A Burning Building."

"The Mechanic"

Chapter Forty-nine

'A Burning Building'

Scene...

The Next Day

Demi's POV

"Are you . . . are you gonna come in with me?"

Joe and I sat in his truck, the two of us staring at the building before us. The jailhouse looked exactly how I imagined it would; surrounded by fences and barbed wire. The overcast of the morning didn't help its gloomy appearance, as the sun had just barely risen.

"Not unless you need me to," Joe responded, still staring straight ahead. "I just . . . I don't know what I'd do if I saw his face."

"Well, I won't make you," I ensured. "And I won't be too long."

I was nervous. Nevertheless, I tugged at the door handle and began to leave the vehicle.

"Demi?" Joe's voice came back, halting me.

"Yeah?" I turned to him.

Finally, he was looking at me, his eyes filled with worry.

"I really, really don't want you to do this."

I gave him a shy, closed-lipped smile, and extended my good hand to his cheek.

"I know," I said, kissing him quickly. "But I'm happy you came with me, anyway."

I got out then, shutting the truck's door behind me. 

--

Naturally, security was tight. I went in empty-handed, carrying only my ID in my back pocket; a precaution I took in my own right. Still, I felt as though I was at an airport; removing my shoes, going through metal detectors, emptying my pockets-- the whole nine yards.

But before long, I was directed to an area of visitation.

"Ma'am?" A guard asked, grasping my attention. "Contact or Non-contact?"

"Non-contact," I said, much too quickly. "Please."

With a nod, he led me to a room filled with glass panels and telephones. Once situated, he began to list off rules.

"Keep your feet on the floor at all times. No touching the glass. No shouting or excessive noise. If at any time you feel that you have been told something that could compromise your own personal safety or the safety of someone you know, report it to me immediately. This includes inside codes or threats that security may not directly understand. Please know that you are safe, and that the inmate cannot physically harm you in this environment."

"Got it," I nodded. "Thank you."

"All due respect," the guard said, his tone changing. "You look incredibly familiar to me, ma'am."

"I get that a lot," I said, rolling my eyes at this comment. He'd seen me on television; he knew who I was visiting. And I wasn't interested in entertaining his curiosity. "I'm ready now."

The guard didn't acknowledge my dismissal and instead, spoke into his radio.

"Bring him in."

A buzzer sounded. A door opened.

And in came Wilmer, dressed in orange, his hands cuffed in front of him; a guard following closely behind.

He looked so different.