Page 69 of Pack Deception: Part Two

Truth is, I’m nervous.

There is a light sheen of sweat going on beneath my sweater, but they don’t need to know that.

I squeeze Brooklyn’s hands and pull away. She hesitates for the slightest bit before letting go. Panic flits in her eyes for a second before she manages to paste on a pretty convincing smile. Looks like I’m not the only one hiding my emotions today. I give them all one last smile and then walk in.

The walk to the door feels too long. The stares of my packmates on my back too heavy. When I step inside and the tint on the glass door obscures me from view, it’s a relief. A heavyset alpha male sits behind the reception desk. I square my shoulders, squeeze my hands into fists to stop the trembling and walk up to the glass divider.

“Name,” he grunts without even looking up at me. His phone holds his attention.

“Su–” I start, but it’s barely a whisper. I clear my throat and try again. “Summer.”

“Who are you here to see?” he asks.

“Jade Monroe.” Even saying her name sends shivers over my skin.

Still not looking, he grabs a pen and clipboard and slams it down in front of me. “Sign in and go through the door on your right.”

“Uh. Oh okay.” I sign my name–though it looks more akin to chicken scratches–and walk to the door off to the side. This seems like a very lax system for a prison. Shouldn’t he be a little more concerned about who is let in?

Then I make it through the next door and mentally roll my eyes at myself as three different security guards with guns strapped to their belts stand around a large metal detector and conveyor belt. Since I didn’t come in with anything, I don’t have a bag to put on the belt, and I walk up to the metal detector.

“Please place all keys, belts, phones, or other electronics in the bin and step through,” the only female instructs. Alpha, just like the two men. Since I didn’t even bring my phone, I pat my pockets to show them they’re empty and step through.

The female officer waits on the other side and watches the green light on the detector. It must flash red if you’ve got metal on you because it stays green, then she nods at me, and motions for me to follow her.

“So who are you coming to visit?” When she half turns my way to ask, I catch the name on her badge. Officer Danica.

“Jade Monroe,” I reply.

“The new girl, huh?” Danica glances at me again, looking me up and down. “ But I meant,whoare you coming to visit?”

“Oh, uh…she’s…” I think of what to say. Saying out loud that she was my mate, or pack, feels wrong. Disrespectful to my actual mates, but also, like it validates what they did in some way. “Nobody special. Just a demon I’m trying to exorcize, I guess you could say.”

Another long, unreadable stare from the guard as we walk down another hallway. At the end of it, she stops at a doorway without a door. “I’ll be right here to walk you back when you’re done,” she says and then posts up in the archway as promised.

With a nod, I peek my head around. The room inside has six chairs, each sitting in its own cubicle. The cubicles all have a telephone hung up on the right and a clear glass divider with a matching phone on the other side. Unsure if there is a certain seat, I walk slowly up to the one in the middle since they’re all empty–not a big day for visitors I guess–and look back at Danica. She doesn’t stop me, so I take it as my sign that any seat is fine. The chair is cold. Even through my fleece-lined jeans, it feels cold and uncomfortable and squeaks as I sit on it.

The entire room has that feeling though: beige walls with chips in the paint and in desperate need of a fresh coat, and linoleum floors that look like the cheap stuff they throw in cafeterias in inner city schools.

Rustling is the only sound in the quiet room. Which I realize is coming from me. From my leg, specifically. It’s bouncing up and down in an obvious show of nerves. I don’t even make a move to stop it though, because it does help a little.

I must be waiting there five minutes, watching the open doorway in the room across the glass divider obsessively, waiting for Jade to walk through it. Eventually, I muster up the courage to turn back to Danica. I startle when I notice she’s staring at me still.

“Erm… How does she know I’m here to see her?” I ask. My eyes widen a little when she rolls hers.

“Greg radios back to the guards that she has a guest and they bring her up. The officer at the front desk,” she explains when I furrow my brows at his name. Ahhh. The uninterested alpha on his phone. “But he tends to take his time. Shouldn’t be much longer though.” Then she looks up, raises a brow, and jerks her head.

My heart stops.

I turn back around in my seat to see Jade being escorted in by a giant of a man. She almost looks comically small compared to him. Comical, if I weren’t so stunned speechless at the sight of her. The usual aura of sophistication and power that radiates off her is gone. Gone is her shiny, glossy mane of perfectly coiffed hair. Instead, it’s pulled into a high ponytail, looking dull and dead.

There are huge black bags under her eyes that suggest she isn’t sleeping well, and the orange of the jumpsuit washes out her skin tone. Add in the handcuffs on her wrists connected by chains, and the chain links on her feet, and all the nerves I was carrying wash away. This woman doesn’t own me anymore. Doesn’t deserve an ounce of my fear. And looking at her, fear is the furthest thing from what I feel.

Pity, maybe.

Satisfaction, definitely.

Closure? Just about.

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