PRISONERS

Chapter 13

• Chapter 13 •

We sat in silence after that, him lying down in bed, arms draped over his head to shut the lights out, while I sat in my bed, finishing my song. It was unexplainably comfortable, to the point where we would absemindently lock eyes and not feel awkward.

They brought his lunch about two hours later and it was so difficult for me not to reach through the bars and try to steal the tray off of Stephen’s hands. Stephen kept his cold facade on, not sparing a glance at me, probably trying to avoid me from now on. I sat up in my bed, my eyes glued on the deliciously cooked carbonara rigatoni pasta. My stomach grumbled loudly and I looked away, trying to fight the hunger from eating me alive.

Harry lazily got off his bed and went over to the door. He took his tray and went over to the table, which was still placed right in front of my bed. Stephen looked the door and softly exited the room. Harry settled down his tray and the smell of the heavenly sauce hit my nostrils, making me want to lunge and steal his food. I turned my back on him and gritted my teeth, trying to control the ache in my stomach that seemed to intensify. If I ignore it, it will probably go away, or I will get used to it.

“Where's your lunch?”

I rolled my eyes although he couldn't see me, frustrated that I am trying so hard not to think of food and that's what he wants to talk about.

“I'm grounded for the day.”

He laughed, a genuine, creepy laugh that came from deep within his chest. I turned my head to gaze at him from my shoulder, my eyes narrowed at him. His dimples added to his beauty, his dark green eyes amused. He brought his fist in front of his mouth to cover his cackles but he miserably failed.

“Your officer is worse than a 5 year old.” he said with humor covering his voice, but it only pissed me off even more.

“Don't talk about him like that.” I shot, keeping my face blank.

“Ooh,” his eyes widened, lips shaping and ‘o’. “Someone's into her officer.” he muttered, stabbing his pasta with his fork.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “I’ve only loved one man.”

His green eyes met my own, a dark, evil smirk spreading over his lips. “And you killed him.”

My heart felt numb, crying quietly behind my ribs. I nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. I will forever carry the blame of the murder, but I will never feel guilty for killing the only person that I loved so dearly, because he tried to kill me first.

“I don't get it.” he said out of a sudden,  shaking his head.

“What?”

“Why did you kill him? If you were so in love,” he said sarcastically, “You would've thought of a better way to stay away from him in case he was toxic to you.”

It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic choice of words. Stay away from Kayn was impossible. Not because I didn't want to, but because wherever I went, no matter how many IDs I would change, he would always find me. When you mess with one of the most dangerous mafia members, no hole in the world is safe enough to hide.

“You don't expect me to answer that question,” I mused, shaking my head. His smirk diminished as his face switched to irritated. “You're a gang leader, you know how things work.”

He nodded, pursing his lips in understanding. He then started eating his meal and I had to tear my eyes away from him, my stomach still complaining about the lack of food. I groaned, suddenly pissed at myself for covering up Stephen. Maybe I should've let Logan fire him so I could enjoy a warm juicy meal myself now. Fuck it, if I'm going to starve for being right, so fucking be it.