Salted Caramel Coffee (COMPLETED!)

Chapter Twenty Seven} W¡$hböńę

"Wolfe?"

I look up to see a man standing on the other side of the bars, his long fingers wrapped around the metal that separates us. He's not as tall as the guards usually are. No, this man is maybe five foot six at the most. A clear visor covers his face, likely bulletproof, although I have no idea who in here would be stupid enough to sneak in a gun.

"That's my name." I say, standing up. My handcuffs clang noisily against the metal bar that I'm attached to as I walk over to the strange man. "You here to finally kill me?"

The man scoffs. "I wish."

"A bit bold coming from someone who's never met me before."

With a sigh, the man hits a few numbers on my lock. It pops open, swinging inward and nearly hitting me in the face. "C'mon," he grumbles, standing out of my way, gesturing as if I need his permission, "you've been bailed out."

I look at him like he's crazy. "Impossible. Black's-"

"I don't know, kid. Your friend met bail too."

My heart skips a beat. Friend? As in just one? "What?" There's no way... did my mom come back for me?

"Well don't just stand there- do you want out or not?"

I obviously do, but I'm honestly a bit skeptical. This whole situation seems out of order. Not to mention, if I go home, writing is inevitable. If I don't write, I'll be joining Black's nine year old self in the Graveyard. At this point, though, I lowkey wouldn't even be mad. This month has already been fucked up as it is.

"How do you expect me to move if I'm handcuffed to a pole?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. I don't like this man at all. I mean, I don't like most people, but I seriously don't like this guy. He's trying to beat me at my own game of sarcasm and I 'm not into it.

"Right." The man steps in cautiously, sticking his arms out as far as possible to unlock my cuffs, as if he could catch a disease just from getting too close. If he thinks I'm bad, I'd hate to see what would happen if Black were here instead of me. "Alright, follow me."

I shake my hand out a few times, enjoying the feeling of not having a strip of metal wrapped around it. It's nice. Not feeling so confined anymore, I mean. I've spent so long cooped up in that, like, two square inch cell, that I almost forgot what it was like to not be in it. But now, instead of being confined, I feel uncomfortably free. Like anything that happens- it's on me now. Things can either get really good or really bad really fast.

I follow the man down the pitch black corridor, scanning every single cell to see if I can catch a glimpse if Blaze or James. I haven't seen them in so long- too long. I miss James' lopsided smile, Blaze's eyes and the way she looked at me with them. The last time the two of them saw each other, it ended in years of friendship being torn to shreds. I'm stuck in the middle now, being pulled from two different ends like a wishbone. James tells me to let me go- to let Blaze rot in prison and then eventually, the Graveyard. Blaze tells me to come back. She tells me to let her pull me in by my collar and to trace my fingers over the crooked scar that travels around her face, a constant reminder of something she's hiding. I want to listen to James. I wanna walk straight out of this shithole and never come back, letting Blaze's corpse shrivel up like it should. But another part of me really, really wants to-

"Are we almost there?" I ask, pushing away any thoughts of the red-headed girl as I continue to follow the man. We twist up a sickening set of pink stairs, the stairs growing shallower and shallower as we ascend.

"Be patient, Your Royal Majesty. We'll be there in a sec, so try to keep quiet, will you?" He snorts, leading me down the cotton-candy colored hall.