Page 97 of Come Back To Me

She grabs her coat as she slips on her shoes. She’s desperate to leave. Desperate to escape what she just told us. She’s panicking.

“Mollie,” I say softly. I place my hand on her arm, forcing her to stop. Her eyes travel up my arm, stopping at mine. “If you need to talk, I’m here.” A look of regret flashes across her face. I step forward, hearing her heavy breathing.

“I shouldn’t,” she says turning to walk out the door. She stops, looking back briefly. “Thank you. I appreciate it. More than you know.” With that, she leaves.

I’m left wondering if there’s any happiness in this world. It seems so dire. So bleak. So tragic.

I turn to Jess, resting the back of my head against the door.

“Think she’ll be okay?” Jess asks.

I push myself away from the wood, picking up the plates from the table. “I hope so.” I really bloody hope so. Because I’m not sure my grip on this life can hold on much longer.

Us?

Chapter Twenty-Three

DEAN

Sometimes, I wonder at what point things really changed for me. The day I found my aunt murdered; her body slumped against that tree? The day my father left this earth, leaving me alone to fend for myself as a kid? Or the day I met the woman who decided I was worthy enough of her love. She gave herself to me completely. Accepted my life and gave me hers. She chose my darkness. Chose my life. Chose me.

I’ve relived every second of my time loving Mads. Every morbid day spent behind these bars, I’ve recounted every kiss, every touch, every single time I’ve had my hands on my girl. It’s my lifeline. My purpose. My drive.

My fucking means of survival.

I thought seeing her would shatter me, when in fact all it did was make me even more determined to get out of this godforsaken den. Everything’s backwards. I know that. My demons are guiding me, but without them, I’d be fucking dead already. So if the only way I can ensure I get back to Mads is by doing what I’m doing, I’ll do it every damn day for the rest of time.

I’m no closer to finding the source, but I have to get home.

Feeling the last draw of air be sucked in through his nose, I press harder, ensuring that was his last. My fists clench thepillowcase taken from his bed. I hold down as tight as I can, my eyes never leaving the door as Luke stands at the threshold keeping watch.

I don’t ask for details anymore. Details make way for a conscience. And having a conscience in here leaves room for error. Every scar I earn in here builds a picture of my journey. There can be no room for error.

Feeling his body finally slump, I remove the pillow from his face. I push it back under his head and close his eyes with the tips of my fingers. He looks peaceful. Calm. Free.

“Let’s go.”

Luke opens the door, and I pick up what I came for, stuffing it down the joggers I’m wearing. We check the coast is clear before walking away, like I didn’t just kill a man for my own safety.

Luke and I make our way to the outside area. It’s rec time. Most other inmates are out here too. With my back against the high wall, I bend my knee, resting my foot against it. “You think that’s the end of it?” I casually ask Luke.

He sweeps his gaze over everyone. “Doubt it. But I think you know that already.”

I huff. “A man can dream.”

Luke drops his head, kicking at nothing on the ground. “Not in here. Dreams are for free men.”

I smile to myself. “You’re wrong. Your dreams will set you free.”

The way Luke looks at me makes me wonder if I’ve missed something. “You’re fucked up,” my mate says.

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because,” he shakes his head, his eyes narrowed. “You just fucking… did what you did, now you’re out here talking about dreams and being set free. It’s messed up.”

I let out a laugh. I’d argue this is the least messed up I’ve feltfor a while. “Says the man who did whathedid.”

“My mother was allowing men into my room at night to fuel her drug habit. What would you have done?”

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