Page 127 of The Tempted

Chapter Fifteen

2011

One year had gone by without so much as a letter from Anthony since they took him away to prison, no phone call, nothing. It was almost as if he died. The only reason I knew he was alive was because when I asked my father about him I’d be treated to a grunt. Followed by a mumbled ‘he’s fine’. My father wants me to see a shrink, I overheard him talking to my mom about it. He thinks I went off the deep end after I lost the baby. My mom explained that I was heartbroken and that I had suffered two great loses. My baby. My love.

I was thinking my father was right I was losing my mind. I broke into Anthony’s apartment and stole his gun so I could go after Jimmy. He was my only hope in getting information since my father wouldn’t tell me anything. I came up with this big elaborate plan to corner Jimmy and hold him at gunpoint until he told me something.

Anything.

I was desperate.

I would’ve done it too if it wasn’t for my mother finding the gun in my bedroom. She surprised me by not telling my father and instead she cried with me, begging me to let her help me. I don’t know what she did with the gun but scaring Jimmy was off the table since she confiscated it.

I didn’t talk to my mother for two days, I locked myself in my room and cried for what seemed like forever. I was falling apart. I had nothing to live for anymore.

This morning I really believed when my mother came into my room and demanded I get showered and dressed that she was committing me to the nearest mental ward. Instead, she drove seven hours in the rain, praying to Jesus the whole way. Now here I was in line waiting to be patted down before walking through the metal detectors of a state prison, so close to seeing Anthony.

It’s such a process to visit an inmate. When Anthony was first brought here I had to go through all sorts of shit to be an approved visitor. Against my father’s wishes or even his knowledge I had applied and been approved. My mother wasn’t on the list of visitors approved to see him so she only could bring me to the barbed wire gates and see me off.

I stood in line glancing around at the people that surrounded me trying to piece together their stories. There were lots of woman and children, which made me wonder, if our baby had survived, would I have brought our child to visit Anthony here. That is if he would have abided by my father’s orders.

“Next!” A female correction officer called standing in front of me pulling me out of my thoughts. I took a step towards her as she hastily lifted my arms. “Spread ‘em.”

I swallowed and spread my arms out as I was told.

“Legs too,” she barked, forcing me to spread my legs shoulder width apart. I stared at her as she dropped to her knees and patted my legs through my jeans. “Turn around.” I slowly turned so my back was facing her and closed my eyes as her hands traveled over my clothing, hip, ass, back. She even ran her fingers through my hair.

I was merely a visitor and knew the woman patting my ass was just doing her job. Taking precautionary measures and all that bullshit but still, I couldn’t help but feel violated. Which made me wonder what they did to Anthony when they brought him here to serve his sentence.

“Clean,” the correction officer said over her shoulder. “Any metal you have, put in this bucket, that includes your fancy belt sweetheart and the earrings you’re wearing.”

I stared at her for a moment before unbuckling my belt and sliding it through the loopholes. I did as she instructed and removed my earrings as well, placing them in the bucket before walking through the metal detector. Once they cleared me, I gathered my belongings and followed the correction officer through another door.

“Bianci has a visitor,” she said, handing me off to another correction officer, this one a male who let his eyes travel over me.

“You Bianci’s girl?” He asked with a creepy smile.

“You’ll have to ask him,” I said, slowly pulling my eyes away from him as the sounds from the visitor’s hall became louder. We waited in front of the metal door and my heart stopped. The man I loved more than anything, the man I hadn’t seen in over a year, waited on the other side of that door.

The buzzer sounded signaling the doors unlocking and the correction officer beside me pulled it open, stepping aside allowing me to walk into the large room. My feet froze just passed the threshold as I looked around the large room full of inmates and their loved ones. There were father’s holding their children, husbands kissing their wives, sons reassuring their mothers with a gentle squeeze of the hand. I didn’t know why they were in there, what they had done or not done that got them locked away. Looking at them in their prison blues trying to have a sliver of normalcy made my eyes fill with tears.

“Just grab a free seat and one of the guards will bring him in.” The C.O. said, behind me. I nodded and did as he said finding a seat in the corner of the room. I folded my hands-on top of the table and waited patiently or at least I allowed myself to think I was being patient, the butterflies jumping in my belly told me otherwise.

They say prison can change people, that it hardens them. I couldn’t help but fear that Anthony would be a different man.

I lifted my head and my heart stopped as I watched the officer escort him inside the visitor’s room. Actually, I don’t think it stopped it just fell to the pit of my stomach, broken pieces of it cutting through the lining, making me clutch my belly in pain. He lifted his head, his eyes finding mine, and I heard the gasp escape my lips.

He was so much bigger than I remembered, I didn’t know if it was my mind playing tricks on me or if he had been working out while he was in here. His hair was short styled in a crew cut robbing me of a chance to run my fingers through his hair like I loved. He hadn’t shaved in a few days judging by the length of the scruff that outlined his jaw. I lifted my eyes to his noticing the dark circles around them. His blue eyes that were always so cold and uninviting used to soften and melt for me. Not this time, this time he kept his cold stare fixated on me. I dreamed of this day for a long time and in my dreams, he was always happy to see me. I wasn’t prepared for him to look at me the way he was, as if I was a thorn in his side. He stood for a moment just staring at me before taking the seat across from me.

We stared at one another silently – me, memorizing his features, him, looking at me like I was an illusion. I reached across the table and laid my hands over his, slowly lacing our fingers together. Seeing our fingers entwined like that caused fresh tears to slide down my cheeks. How was it that the simplest touch can evoke so much feeling?

I averted my eyes from our hands to his eyes and for just a fleeting second his eyes melted for me, looking at me as if I was his everything. I didn’t let my eyes waiver from his as I lifted our joined hands to my lips, gently kissing his knuckles, only for him to snatch his hand back from me as if I had bitten him.

“Don’t do that, A,” he whispered roughly. I swallowed hard watching him struggle to keep his eyes on me. I had so many things I wanted to tell him throughout the course of the year we were apart but each single thought fled my mind. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” I croaked out.

“Because I never wanted you to see me in here, I told you that before I left,” he said, his voice sounding anguished but teetering on the edge of anger.

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