PLAY WITH FIRE

CHAPTER 33

HOLDEN KINCAIDE

PRESENT TIME

I asked Boone to go back and keep Scarlett company after our chat as I left the bureau. I travelled down the elevator, went to my car and took off without so much as a word or a glance to other agents. 

I knew I should've gone and told Scarlett I had to leave, but if I told her where I was going she'd suggest she come until I eventually caved, but this was something I had to do alone. So instead of telling Scarlett I'd be back late, and that our date was cancelled, I got Boone to do it for me. 

An hour and a half later of silence and the continuous dinging of a message on my phone for a solid 10 minutes of that before it stopped, Scarlett, I was pulling up to the front gates of Greenwood Penitentiary. 

I came to a stop beside the window of the security box before the boom gate, rolling my window down as a guard stuck his head out of the window, greeting me with a nod. 

"Name?"

"Holden Hartley" I grabbed both my licence and FBI Agent badge, holding it out for Officer...Parker, says his name tag. He took both identifications, inspecting them before his eyebrows rose in surprise. 

"23? Isn't that a little young for the FBI?" What the fuck am I supposed to say back to that? 

"Apparently not" I replied dryly, Parker handing my stuff back, his hand hovering over the button that lifted the boom gates. 

"Personal or Business today, Agent?" I turned my attention back ahead of me as the boom gates lifted. 

"Business" 

After parking I headed inside the main building. Of course after a quick security check, pocket empty and pat down I was able to head further inside the prison, over to front desk. I came to a stop across from a woman no younger than 35, face caked, hair unnaturally blonde, chewing on a piece of gum that she blew to be the size of her head. 

When she looked up from her magazine she had hidden, eyes meeting mine, she let out a yelp of surprise, the bubble bursting in her face. I continued to stare, unamused and on the brink of an outburst as I impatiently waited silently for the woman to clean her face of the scattered gum.  

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there" She mumbled, pressing her hair down flat, fixing it for my sake from it's bird nest like state. 

"Don't worry about it" I bit back a remark I was seconds from blurting to do with her line of work, and how reading a Women's Daily Magazine probably wasn't on her schedule. I pretty much wanted to be upfront and tell her to do her damn job, but it seemed I was the only person that didn't work here that had passed through the building in a long while. She blinked at my dry tone, a flush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks. 

"So are you here for business or a visitation?" She asked as I took out my FBI badge and handed it to her. 

"A business visitation" I replied, watching her instantly nod her head as she grabbed at a page and a pen before sliding it across to me. 

"And who are you here for today, Agent Hartley?" Deep breath. In and out. 

"Wyatt Kincaide" 

After filling out the form I was soon enough walked through the prison by a guard. He was a little older than me and bigger in width, but I still towered over him. He bounced on the front of his feet when he walked, his heels never touching ground. 

"You're here to see Kincaide?" I stiffened, glad he was in front of me to not notice. I grunted in response, not trusting myself to speak. The guard glanced at me over his shoulder.