His Protection

4. fight

I bit into my croissants, the soft, layered and fluffy pastry practically melting in my mouth. I think I actually moaned out loud. Vince's share was in the bag. It was a shame that I would have to give them back to the guys next door or something considering he had swore off of food lately.

As I took another bite, the door near my bed clicked and opened as Vince walked out and made his way with purpose to the coffee table and couches. I almost dropped my croissant into my polystyrene cup filled with coffee. I intentionally tried to control my eyes as I felt them go wide and kept my expression neutral as he sat on the couch across from me and dug into the white plastic bag and laid the croissants out on a white napkin. I watched him intently as he took a large bite that devoured half of one croissant. That dead look in his eyes was gone as I scrutinised him. It seemed like he found his strength to get over his episode but whatever had given him the strength I hoped he wouldn't forget or lose that reason again. He was dressed in a blue and black chequed shirt that wasn't wrinkled with black jeans. 

I didn't dare say a word to him though. Maybe it was because I didn't want to disturb his calm that he had just found again. Or maybe it was because he brought up shame and guilt in me yesterday by asking if I took on his case to make sure I saw him go to jail. And a part of him was right. That's why I think I couldn't open my mouth and say a word to him. And that wasn't like me. If I had something to say you best believe I would say it, didn't matter who I needed to say it to. I looked back down at my croissant and gulped down on my coffee that honestly looked like the colour of Vince's eyes. 

"I see through you, you know" his gruff deep voice broke through my thoughts about my coffee and shook me to my core. 

How? Why? Did he really think he could see me? But still his words seemed to pull my defences up as my head shot up to look at him. His grey eyes looked right at me as his gaze raked over my face. 

I didn't say a word, he folded his arms against his chest and I could see how this conversation was pulling his defences up and how uncomfortable this conversation was for him too. Just as uncomfortable as it was for me to listen to it. But his eyes seemed resolute as they looked at me without any barrier, like he needed to say this to me. 

"I see through your cracks. How you want to prove yourself. How you would do anything for it. I used to be like you, you know" his words were quieter at the end of his sentence as he looked away from me and looked off to the side. 

"That hunger and motivation to prove yourself, I see it in your eyes. But I lost it long ago" he looked to the floor and laughed hollowly "but I'm a dying man with either a life sentence, the death penalty or being shanked in prison" as he muttered those words a whole resignation overtook his body as his shoulders slumped and his hands fell to his lap as he stared at the carpet. 

Fuck, sitting in front of me was a man that was so sure that he was dying no matter what path he went down, that this was the last bit of life in him that I was getting to see because his loved ones weren't around him to see it. So he was giving it to me. And I couldn't take that. I didn't deserve it, not one bit. 

I couldn't get past that. He really thought he was a dead man. This was like the last peak of a heartbeat until he flat-lined. I was trained on everything for my job, everything but this. Even how to calm a client down but not this. I was even used to clients telling me there secrets, or telling me their secret dreams of what they wanted to do with their life when they were out of protection or had served their time. I knew how to deal with that, but someone handing you the last piece of their life? How the fuck do you deal with that? 

"What's your last wish as a free man?" the words tumbled out. I didn't think until the words had passed my lips. 

He looked up at me suddenly and it took every ounce of my body for me not to look away because he was looking at me so intensely, like just saying the words 'free man' were enough for him to clutch on to and never let go.