Page 305 of Satan's Spawn
And when I do, there’s absolute certainty in them…melting me into the sand like the heat of the sun.
I breathe a sigh of relief when Crayton secures himself on an elbow, letting his fingers ring through my drenched orange hair.
The smile spreading on my lips is just as visceral as the air escaping them.
“So the devil does know how to love.” I tell him, feeling not only the weight of his body between us.
But what he says next.
Crayton leans down, pressing his forehead against mine as he whispers, “Only you.”
THE END
6 MONTHS LATER…
“Place all your belongings in sixty-six,” the security guard Mike points ahead to the rows of lockers, “and lose the necklace, Rebecca, you know the drill.”
I reach for my cross, hating having to take it off every time I enter this damn facility. Offering another silent apology to Dad, I make my way toward the locker, unclasping it behind my neck.
I twist the door open, stuffing my bag inside first, then hang my sweater off the hook. My cross gets dropped into the pocket of it right after.
Closing the locker, I proceed to make my way to one of the mounted chairs, taking the seat closest to Mike as I wait to be called.
“How’s school going, kid?” he asks, rustling through the sign in sheet.
I lift a shoulder. “Well, the excitement of starting senior year is definitely dying down.”
“The teachers dishing out a lot of work?”
“Always. Especially in Math.”
Which is fantastic because it’s the only subject I actually hate.
“I remember those days,” Mike whistles. “I hated my Math teacher—the asshole tried to fail me every semester.”
“It’s not my strong suit either, that’s for sure.”
He nods as if he gets it.
“How’s he doing?” I refer to the grump Mike has been checking in on for me since we first became friendly.
“Oh, the usual ray of sunshine. But behaving.”
Thank goodness.
“He’ll be happy to see your pretty face, though. Not many of those around here.”
I smile, cheeks heating. “Let’s just hope he’s in better spirits than last visit.”
I haven’t been here to see Crayton for almost a month…between the stress of the new school year and two visitor cancellations by Wayside Correctional.
The last time I was, though, he was barely able to look at me after getting into a tiff with his cellmate.
By tiff I mean choking the guy out because he tried to steal the cell phone Crayton uses to text me.
It didn’t escalate to the point where disciplinary measures took place, but the guy was removed from his cell and a new, more talkative one took his place.
And we all know how well Crayton bodes with small talk.
