Page 66 of Obsession
“Let’s get you into protective custody.”
“Protective custo?—”
“It’s for your own safety.”
“But my home…”
“It’s only for a short time.” Chapman’s smile is kind but strict. He won’t take no for an answer.
“Okay.” My voice is a shaky whisper. How I stand is a mystery, but Chapman and his colleague are a steady presence on either side of me. Though all I can think is one thing: Robbie escaped. He’s out there, waiting for me.
29
ROBBIE
The water pouring from the shower head errs on the side of too cold, but you soon grow used to it when you’ve spent as long on death row as I have. We lost the right to hot water the day we were sentenced, and they like to remind us at every opportunity.
After I’ve finished rinsing the soap and solitary from my hair, I turn off the shower and reach for my towel. Officer Hayes tips his chin to Garcia, then Miller, and walks back out, leaving us alone while I dry off. I scrub my face with the scratchy cotton, my back to them. I’m not the scrawny kid from my childhood anymore, and Miller messed with the wrong inmate, believing himself to be a God within these four walls.
Little does he know that I have nothing but time.
Time to study the guards and my surroundings. Learn their behaviors.
I’m not one to cause trouble, but a certain little brunette changed the game.
They speak in hushed tones, and my eyes briefly meet Garcia’s before he leaves. I smirk.
Garcia may not realize how predictable he is, but his secret tryst with Hayes has become a regular occurrence. If only his wife knew what a naughty boy he is at work. “Where are you going?” Miller asks as Garcia walks away.
With one hand on the door, Garcia says, “I just need to check on something. I’ll be back in five. Get him dressed and cuffed.”
Miller’s eyes flash with fear, and he glances at me as I tie the towel around my waist. I run my fingers through my hair and drop my hand by my side. I’m enjoying this.
“You heard Officer Garcia. Get dressed.” He tries so hard to keep his composure.
“I spent short of a week in solitary because of you for no reason other than to feed your ego.”
Miller stiffens when I approach.
“But that’s not what this is about.”
“I’m warning you, Hammond. Get dressed.” He glances up at the camera in the corner but soon looks back at me when I let a dark chuckle rumble through my chest.
“We both know it has been disabled for months.” My shoulders rise and fall in a careless shrug. “Thin walls. Inmates talk.”
His eyes widen.
“Did you think you could touch my girl without consequences? That I wouldn’t come for you? Are you really that naive to think handcuffs and chains will stop me from killing you?”
“Back the fuck up,” he growls, going for the gun in his pocket, but I’m too quick, grabbing him in a headlock. With my free hand, I take the gun from the holster and press it to his temple. He’s so fucking scared, trembling and sobbing in my arms, trying desperately to elbow me in the gut. I dig the gun deeper into his temple. “You’re gonna drop to your knees, understood.”
“I’ll kill you for this, Hammond.”
“I’m already a dead man walking. You’re this scared now because, unlike me, you’re not used to living beneath death’s watchful eye. You think I’m scared of death, Miller? I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. But I will kill everyone who’s ever laid a fucking finger on my girl before I let anyone pump my veins full of poison. We’re all going to die sooner or later, Miller. Your day of reckoning just happens to come sooner than mine.”
I let him go, and he spins around, holding his hands up by his head in surrender, but his eyes betray the hatred he feels.
“Strip. Take your clothes off and put them over there.” I gesture with the gun to a small table pushed up against the far wall.
