5. Prisoners Cook -4 - O- 9

77.5K 3.6K 1.7K

"I raped about four women." The man nonchalantly shrugs and I clench my teeth.

Its your job ocean, remain calm.

"And why. . did you do that?" I question.

"Because I wanted to." He says in a duh tone.

"Did you ever for a moment think about what it did to them?"

"Sometimes, but they all had cute sisters so-"

"Okay, I can't do this. You are a piece of scum under everyone's foot. You think you're above the law just because they're letting you out? I swear I would frame you for rape just to send your little disrespectful self back to jail." I stand, bending to his ears. "You are nothing, and you'll always be nothing."

× × ×

The guard gave me a questioning look but I waved him off. I called the agency earlier and told them they needed to give me a new client because I couldn't do it.

I sat on the familiar public bench, a vanilla ice cream in my hand.

I was on my third lick when and image of Trevor came to mind.

"Stop that." I hiss at myself, and a young couple stared at me like I was mad.

I ignored them.

Every time I licked the image would get worse and it was irritating. Finally I was done, and the bus pulled over, signing in relief, I get home, ready to be engulfed by my warm bed.




.

My door was already opener when I got in. That's a bad sign.

Usually it was just Dain, so I just sighed loudly before pushing the door open.

As soon as my eyed land on the figure I scream and he yelps also throwing the box of cereal all over him and onto the ground.

"What is it?" I gape at Trevor.

"What're you doing in my apartment?!" I shriek and he blinks.

"I. . live here now?" He furrows his eyebrows and my eyes drift to his shirtless body.

His abs were soo, defined, disappearing with a V into his usual cotton shorts.

"Ocean?"

"Huh?" I blink back at him. "Oh right. . . roommate?" I question and he shrugs.

"I wasn't aware either." Well thanks fate. "I'll replace your cereal." He says innocently picking it up and I shake my head. Already having enough of this day.

"Its fine, I'm just. . I'm just going to go to my room." I walk towards it and he stops me.

"Is this a problem? I mean I could find somewhere else." He asks, concern written all over his face.

"No, no! Its okay I promise I'm just tired." I force a smile before leaving.

Well, I live in the same house a murderer.

What could go wrong?

× × ×

My phone rang at 4 am.

"Trevor?" I groan as I notice the caller ID.

"Where's the towels?" I roll my eyes.

"Why didn't you just wali to my room?"

"I didn't want to disturb you." He says And I give an imaginary person a flat face.

"Its in the cupboards in the bathroom." I say already falling asleep.

"Alright, thanks." He hangs up and I drop my face into the pillow, ready to fall asleep.





The next morning I was so tired. I felt drained in every way.
I was sighing every ten seconds. I pull on the red pencil skirt, throwing a black and white polka dot chiffon shirt and some red flats before heading for the kitchen.

He was shirtless again.

I clear my throat to avoid the thoughts in my mind and he turns to face me. He gives me a small smile and I return it.

"You look exhausted." He says and I nod.

"I am." Realizing that Dain hasn't called for the past two days. That was new.

"Take a day off then." He suggest placing a plate of the best smelling eggs and toast I have ever seen.

"Thanks. I can't, I just started this job."

"Do you like it?"

"I wanted to become a therapist, not exactly for criminals, but for people who were hurt." I throw my eyes downcast as I get ready to tell him the sappy part. "My professor told me I couldn't do that because I wasn't at that level and I could never reach it." I clear my throat losing my appetite and I can see his veins through his knuckles as his grips on the fork tightens.

'Do you remember his name?" He asks softly.

"How can I forget? Professor James Henderson." I stand, grabbing my bag.

"Well, I gotta go. You're good right?"

"Yea. . . I'll see you later." He says and I nod.

"And Ocean?" I stop to look at him. "Don't let people who are stuck in classrooms for the rest of their life, destroy your dreams of not being like them."

Prisoner 409Where stories live. Discover now