Page 8 of Strictly Forbidden

“Ah. I was wondering why. This makes sense,” she said absently.

The wine tasted better than usual for a change. I took another sip, leaning over the counter, the disco music I’d popped on able to drown out the sounds of the weather. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning, given their success, they’re expanding the program on a trial run. They’re providing the most damaged, abused animals a chance at graduating the program and finding a forever home while also providing a very unique opportunity for a select few convicts.”

“Okay. Meaning what?” I pressed.

“You are so impatient. Meaning there’s a chance a few will get parole because of the involvement.” She studied me as if I was going to break down into tears.

“Not all criminals are psychopaths. Some are inside the joint based on circumstances.”

“Wow. I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“I write about criminals all the time. I do a lot of research. What the bastard did to me encompasses about point-two-two percent of criminals. Some commit crimes based on tragedies or horrific circumstance and maybe they do deserve a break.”

Where had that come from?

I’d been writing thrillers for as long as I could remember. I think since I’d learned to walk. As the nerdy kid, writing had been my refuge, my way of sliding into a dream world. I never would have believed I could make a living doing what I loved.

She seemed amused, lifting her wine stem and grinning. “Then you know what makes that fucker tick. Or you should. He wants you scared. You need to fight with everything you have, including considering this.”

I brushed a strand of stray hair behind my ear as I did when I was nervous. “Yeah, well, if I don’t start to sleep a few hours a night, I’ll become just like him.” On purpose, I grabbed the knife I’d used to cut the cheese, acting as if I was in a slasher flick.

She laughed before turning the computer around, using a lovey-dovey voice. “Look at those wittle faces.”

I swallowed hard as I looked from one to the other. “What kind of sick fuck could abuse a loving animal?”

“A sick fuck. You have a chance of showing the one chosen for you that all people aren’t bad. And you’ll be helping an inmate society threw away. Maybe your psychiatrist is brilliant. Plus, what could it hurt?”

“What if the bastard inmates teach them to be aggressive instead?”

Her hard look was sisterly. “It doesn’t work that way. These guys are hard as fucking stone, but you’d be surprised how much they melt into a little puddle, full of pride when the watch their fur babies graduate from the program. There’s a ceremony and a dog cake and everything.”

“Don’t they miss the animals?”

“Yeah, of course, but it’s giving them incentive to get out, so they have the chance to adopt a bunch of furry creatures.”

Hmmm. When she put it that way… I chewed on my lower lip.

“What if I get attached?”

She laughed. “That’s what you’re supposed to do and you know what? It’s okay. Besides, the program is just getting started so you’ll have plenty of time to get used to the idea. You know what? In my professional opinion, I think this is exactly what you need.”

“I’m not sure what I need any longer and what, you’re now a psychiatrist?”

“Well, I know what you need and you’ve done your research. You know my job entails driving a sharp stick into the minds of criminals. Now, no more shop talk. Grab the bottle of wine, girl. We’re going to watch a movie. I hope you bought some Chunky Monkey ice cream.”

“Well, duh.”

As soon as I grabbed the wine bottle, she jerked it from my hand, heading toward the living room. It was chilly outside, snow on the ground. I’d started a fire. I glanced at the dogs on the screen, reaching out and touching their little faces. I’d had a puppy as a little girl, a dog I adored with all my heart. When I’d lost him, it had nearly broken me.

Maybe Zoe was right. What could hurt putting two broken souls together?

Kage

I had no idea why I’d agreed to such bullshit. I had no business caring for an animal. The fuckers in the joint would likely hurt him. I was pacing the room, one I hadn’t been in for a long time since I didn’t have visitors. I’d refused to allow any of my family to come here under any circumstances, not that dear old Dad wanted to have anything to do with me anyway.

At least there the space offered me time to think. Or maybe just second guess myself. Today was a meet and greet only, a dog preselected for me. I’d already had the grilling session by the warden, the fucker still treating me like an animal. However, Dr. Daniels had talked back to him as well, going above his head to the governor to have me preapproved. Somehow, I had a feeling the asshole would take that out on me.

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