PRISONERS

Chapter 18

• Chapter 18 •

Harry's words have been constantly replaying in my head as Stephen led me towards the cafeteria. Since I saw Harry, I can actually admit that my body has relaxed entirely now that I'm certain he's alive. Not for long.

I can't believe that Logan actually ordered our execution so fast. I literally got jumped twice and Cass was still unharmed, still free to roam around the cafeteria, free to diss me in front of others, but the moment Harry steps in to protect me, both he and I are going straight for the electric chair.

Who am I to judge though, I killed my husband with my own hands, I'm not innocent and I deserve this punishment.

But the idea of Harry dying after me, is just fucking me up terribly. I can't even think of him strapped up, his green eyes rolling back from the electricity roaming through his body and blood coming out his nose and mouth. My entire body crignes and clenches at the image and my stomach just pains me to death.

I shouldn't give a plain fuck, but I don't want Harry to die. I feel like I owe him protection since he put himself in a difficult situation to help me, so now that we're both going down and I'm incapable of stopping this, I feel utterly helpless and furious.

Maybe Cane could help me. He wants me out of the death row, so I suppose we can find a way out, if not for the both of us, at least for Harry. I have accepted death long ago, I don't mind setting my soul free from this hell, but Harry doesn't seem that ready as I am.

The moment I stepped inside the cafeteria, everyone went silent. I looked around at the scared, angry and annoyed looks everyone was sending me, especially Cass’ little ‘friends’ who did absolutely that minimum to help her out when she was in need of help.

The glares were too hard on my head that I got a headache. Sitting down on my seat, officers stood around my table, guarding me. About time they thought of that. Despite the pressure I felt from all the hate being thrown towards me, I was at peace. I had finally been with Harry after two days of absolute worry and concern that my body couldn't react to the hatred of many others.

My lips tugged slightly at the corners at the thought of Harry's arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. I don't know why he felt the need to be so close to me, but I liked the feeling. I didn't expect my body to miss his touch so much. In fact, I didn't expect to let him touch me in the first place. There is something so different, so magnifying about him, it's holding me near him. Maybe I'm used to his dark presence and not having him around is just sucking the mood out of me. But I doubt it.

I ate frozen chicken with dry potatoes and some water before I was escorted back to my cell. I ignored everyone's venomous glares, it's nothing new. My body squirmed differently when I walked past the recovery room, where I knew Harry was at. I wanted one last glance of him, my eyes lingering on the door a little harder as the guards dragged me forward. This tingly feeling whenever I think of Harry...it's something else.

We're getting the hell out of here.

No fucking way. We can't even think of a perfect plan that can actually work in here, it's impossible. This is not just a prison, this is the prison. Highest level of security and restrictions. We are literally isolated in the middle of nowhere, hidden behind a long, thick forest so we can't be seen. Harry must think of something genius to get us out of this hellhole, alive.

I know for a fact, the moment we dare to step our foot outside, we are dead. We have more chances to live if I talk to Cane and ask for help, than trying to escape. I know there will be multiple shooters on top of the tower, aiming at me. My head will explode from the amount of bullets they will strike at me the moment I smell the fresh air.