FIGHT

Chapter 21

After finally finding 8th street, I'm practically heaving in the minuscule parking lot of the gloomy, heavily guarded building. I walk in small circles with my hands above my head, trying to bring my breathing back to normal. One of the security guards is watching me, but he makes no comment about my disheveled state.

When I can breathe correctly, I slowly walk to the front doors of the massive jail. The barbed-wire walls are intimidating and I can feel my stomach doing violent flips at the idea of seeing Luke again. I got free, but now I'm running back to him for information.

No doubt he'll get a kick out of that.

I pull open the heavy door, quickly flashing my ID to the officer waiting guard at the entrance. There aren't many people in here to talk to, so I figure it's safe to approach what looks like a ticket counter. I have to get back there to talk to him.

My feet plant themselves in front of the booth and an officer holds out her hand for my ID. I hand the small card over, ignoring the look of distaste on her face. I can't exactly blame her; I'm sure I don't smell too good after that run and I'm donned in a mass of training gear.

"What are you here for today, Miss Stevens?"

The woman's voice is monotone, but I ignore it. Information; that's what I need. "I want to visit one of the inmates."

"Who?"

"Lucas Rae Hadley." I sigh, the feel of his name on my tongue gives me shivers. No matter what, I know this visit won't be an easy one.

"What is your relation to inmate #7394?"

My hand comes up to my face, wiping the sheen of sweat off of my forehead. I push some loose strands of hair back, "I'm his ex-girlfriend."

"Never married?"

"No ma'am." I know it's protocol, but do I really look like the type to marry young? The officer flips through several files, plucking out a multitude of papers before handing them to me along with a pen.

"You're not family, which means he has to consent for your visit. I'll send an officer back to ask him, alright? In the meantime, you need to fill out those papers for our system. Standard protocol for any visitor."

I nod, shuffling over to a small section of chairs and tables. Most of the questions are basic: age, sex, birthday, race. After those, a few remain asking about personal experience with the inmate. I decide to stay vague, not wanting to go over everything Luke and I have been through.

I'm finished filling out the papers in about five minutes and the officer is still sitting at her station, looking through some magazine. Not sure that's standard protocol, but I avoid saying anything.

Hopefully Luke agrees to see me.

It feels like forever before another officer enters the large room, motioning for me to stand. Immediately, I'm patted down. It goes quickly and I'm ushered into another room before I know it; this one more spacious than the first.

Nobody else is in here.

"Inmate #7394 has agreed to meet with you, but I would be careful. He seemed overly joyful to hear of your attendance, and he's not usually one of the happy ones."

I nod, walking over to one of the booths as the officer leaves the room. After a few minutes, I see Luke walking towards me; he sits directly across from me. It's strange to be so close to someone so dangerous, but feel safe.

A sturdy sheet of glass separates us. There's no way for him to touch me.

I watch as Luke tugs on his blond hair, an old habit of his. There's a smile on his face, but it's far from joy, as the officer assumed. This one is bitter, mean. I hate to see what look Luke gives everybody when he's not smiling.