Page 6 of Master of Lies

“I told you,” she said. “In my letters. I read about your story, and I—”

“I don’t want you, Sandee,” I cut in. “You know what I’m in prison for, right? You know the details of my case?”

“Of course,” she said eagerly. “I read everything I could find.”

“And you’re not scared?”

“Of you, no! Why should I be? You didn’t do it! I’m sure of it. You’re innocent, and you shouldn’t be here at all! You should be free! You’re innocent!”

“I can’t discuss that with you,” I said harshly.

She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with tears. “Why not? Tell me the whole story. I could be, like, your advocate, from the outside, you know? I could find out things for you, do things for you! Whatever you wanted, whatever could help. I could prove your innocence, and we could be together! I would do anything you—”

“No!” My voice chopped down onto her eager rush of words.

“But—but—”

“The last thing I need is a brainless dollbaby messing around in my shit,” I said. “I have enough problems.”

Her spine stiffened. Pride flashed in her eyes. “Dollbaby? Brainless? Really?”

“You heard me,” I said. “Find someone else to fixate on, bitch. I got nothing.”

Her lips trembled. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “I have to follow my heart.”

“Hearts get confused,” I said. “Come on, Sandee. Wake up. You’re a beautiful girl. Any man with a pulse would want you. It shouldn’t be so goddamn hard.”

Sandee shook her head. “You’d be surprised. Most men are pigs. Or else they’re mean, or taken, or crazy. Or as dumb as a box of rocks.”

“And you think a maximum security correctional facility is the place to fish for your next candidate? Seriously? You think you’ll find a better class of manhere?”

Sandee’s cheeks flamed. Her gaze slid away.

It made me feel like shit, but this tack seemed to be working. “You can do better than me,” I said. “I’ll never even be able to touch you.” I paused, and then added. “Wait. Is that what this is all about? You want a man, but you can’t stand to be touched? Is that what’s going on?”

She swallowed nervously. “No,” she whispered. “I would love to be touched. By you, anyway.”

I shook his head. “I can’t. Not ever.”

“Anything can happen!” she insisted. “I won’t give up hope!”

“Give it up,” I said. “I don’t want you. Not now, not ever. Get that through your thick head.”

She chewed her lip. “There are ways and ways to touch,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I squinted at her. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Minds can touch.” That hopeful, way-out-in-orbit look made me intensely uneasy. “Hearts can touch. Souls can touch. Even if bodies can’t.”

My head was pounding again. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t start.”

“Don’t shut me out,” she pleaded. “It’s true. This isn’t all about sex. It could be bigger than that. You know it. You’re just afraid of it.”

Damn right, I was afraid.

“Listen up.” I made my voice ugly. “I met with you so I could tell you to disappear. I passed those photos out to the meanest motherfuckers in this place, to jerk themselves off to. Now they all owe me favors. So thanks.”

She stared at me, and for a split second, I saw it. She was angry at me. Furious. I’d finally gotten to her. Good. Now, to keep the upper hand. By brute force.

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