“You lied for me,” he stated.
I nodded.
“Why?”
“I need to talk to you.”
There was no need to beat around the bush. I needed to know if he was innocent. I needed to know that I wasn’t sick for being so attracted to a man who was capable of slaughter. I’d gone to bed so many nights hating myself for the way I felt just thinking of his dark skin and blue eyes. It was lust—raw and unadulterated—and it was so wrong considering our circumstances.
“Then talk.” He lifted a confused brow, his eyes becoming suspicious.
“Did you kill Carlos?”
He didn’t even think about it. “No,” he said right away.
I stood, moving closer to the side of his bed. Reaching out, I took his free hand in mine, his much warmer than my own. He didn’t try to stop me as I inspected his hands. They were rough. Scars and scrapes covered his knuckles, bearing witness to the many fights he’d been in.
When I flipped them over, my eyes moved over his palms. They were smooth, except on his fingertips, which were calloused and spoke of hard work. With the flick of his middle finger, he skimmed it across my own palm, sending goose bumps up my arm into my shoulder.
He watched me intently for my reaction to his touch, and I knew he could see the red blush that was spreading across my cheeks. Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard and continued my inspection.
I traced every inch of his palms, the natural lines dug into his skin from left to right, but there were no signs of scarring. I tried to picture how young and innocent he could’ve been, but all I could see were his bulging muscles and deadly expression. Had Scoop been right? Was Christopher set up?
The weight of all the accusation came crashing down on me, weakening my knees.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out with his free hand to hold me steady.
“I’m okay.” Stepping away, I looked him over from his shaved head, which was slowly growing back in, to his thick lips. “Christopher, I need to ask you some things. I need you to let me in, and I need you to be honest with me. Okay?”
His eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded. “Okay.”
“Do you remember the night you killed those people?”
I was normally one to beat around the bush, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before the COs were tapping at the door and coming in.
His shoulders stiffened and his eyes slid away from me. He didn’t want to answer.
Reaching out, I placed my hand against his cheek and turned his head my way. Instead of opening his eyes, he pressed his cheek further into my palm and sighed.
“It’s important,” I whispered, afraid to break the strange spell that had begun to shift between us. “Please tell me what happened.”
Finally, his eyes met mine, but it wasn’t the X I was used to seeing. His mask had slipped once again and instead of the usual hard stare, fear moved in. Suddenly, I could see the nineteen-year-old boy he used to be. I could imagine how afraid he was in that moment.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking in aggravation.
“Please, Christopher, I need to know,” I begged.
He looked at the ceiling as if trying to find the answers, blowing out a hard breath. “You don’t understand; I can’t remember doing it.” His eyes searched mine beseechingly. After a minute, he closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Try,” I rasped. “Just try.”
“You don’t think I’ve tried?” He exploded, making me jump back.
I looked at the door, sure the COs would come bursting in, but nothing happened.
“I’m sorry, Lyla. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He reached up, running his fingers down my arm softly. “It’s all a blur. I went to my girlfriend’s house for dinner. That’s all I remember. She’s all I remember—her long blonde hair and red lips.”
“So you don’t remember anything about the murders, yet you confessed?”
He looked at me, sadness overtaking his face, turning it dark. “I killed them. Their blood was all over my hands. I can still smell it. I feel the guilt of their murders every day, and I will for the rest of my life.”
He gawked at his hands, as if he still couldn’t believe he’d actually done such a thing. Taking his face between my palms, I gazed deep into his eyes. He looked so helpless, lying there with so many questions and confusion in his eyes. He was almost childlike.
“You didn’t do this, Christopher,” I said, trying to convince myself as well. “You’re too good. You couldn’t have done those things.”
He clenched his eyes closed tightly and shook his head. “No. I did. I know I did.”
“Look at your hands,” I said, taking his hands in mine and turning them palms up. “The person who murdered those people cut them apart with a dull kitchen knife. It would be almost impossible for you to do that now, much less when you were younger and weaker.” I wanted to hear him admit that he was innocent. I needed it. “Think about the boy you used to be, Christopher. Is that something you think you’re capable of?”
He wasn’t looking at his palms, his eyes darting all around the room.
“Look at them!” I yelled.
His eyes clashed with mine before they dipped down and scanned his palms.
“I did those things, Lyla. I remember the blood. I remember all of it. I was scared and I was angry, but I don’t remember why. I don’t care what you think because I know what I did. I earned every X I ever marked on my walls. I hurt people. It’s the only thing I’m good at.”
“The Xs on your walls? That’s why you mark them? For the people you hurt?”
He looked me in the eye, taking me in and making me feel exposed.
“The Xs are my graveyard. They remind me of the monster I’ve become. Every time I hurt someone, I mark it on the wall. I mourn each and every one of them every day. I mourn them, and I mourn the boy I used to be. He’s gone, Lyla, and he’s never coming back.”
My heart broke for him. Every day, he stared at that wall, counting his sins and reliving some of his worst nightmares over and over again. He wasn’t an evil monster. He wasn’t counting his Xs as victories. Instead, it was his way of owning up to what he’d done.
Picturing him in his cold, dark cell alone, mourning the loss of his life outside Fulton, being reminded every day of the terrible things he’d supposedly done, made me want to cry for him.
How could he have lived like that for ten long years?
Tears pricked at my eyes, and I stood and turned away. My time was coming up soon anyway. It wouldn’t be long before the COs came in.
“I’ll see you when you get back to Fulton.” I grabbed my purse and the paperwork I’d pulled out.
As I turned to leave, he reached out and grabbed my hand. Warmth crawled up to my elbow, sending tingles up my shoulder. His fingers intertwined with mine, and I closed my eyes at the sensation.
He tugged, pulling me onto his chest and making me gasp out loud. His free hand moved into the hair at my cheek, softly twisting into the strands I’d left free.
“Lyla.” My name rushed from his lips like a prayer.
His eyes were glued to mine with a passion I couldn’t continue to ignore. My stomach twisted and my brain filled with fog. Warmth rushed through me and I leaned closer, wanting so badly so feel the stubble of his cheeks against my face. He pushed his rough cheek against mine and a manly sound rushed past my ear, making my breathing accelerate.
Sliding his lips along my cheek, he kissed the side of my jaw, warm and soft. When he pulled back, his eyes went to mine, searching for any indication that I was okay with what was about to happen. Whatever he saw gave him permission because he moved quickly, pressing his hot lips against mine and sending my brain spiraling.
His lips were thick and soft, unmarred in their wickedness. I leaned into him, going onto the tips of my toes as I pressed for more. There was no denying it anymore—I wanted him. It was different from the way I’d wanted my high school boyfriend or the guy
I dated for a few weeks while I was in nursing school. This want blazed inside of me, sending heated rushes down my spine and into my thighs.
No one had ever made me feel this way, and I knew that the tiny taste of him would never be enough. There was no going back. Time had stopped on our little moment, and I silently wished it to stay paused—to sneak a lifetime into these few minutes with him.
When he ran his tongue along the seam of my lips, I let him in, tasting him as he sweetly sucked my tongue into him mouth. There was nothing else. There were no COs posted outside the door. No lifetime sentences stuck between us. There was only him and me, and his succulent lips taking me away to a place I hoped to visit often.
His fingers sifted through my hair before running along the base of my neck. I pulled away to release a tiny moan, and his grip on the back of my head tightened, pulling me deeper into his kiss. He growled against my mouth, letting me know he wanted me, and desire pooled between my legs in a wet slide of want.
A sound alerted me outside the door and I pulled away quickly, my hand flying to my swollen lips. Stepping away from his side, I adjusted myself and looked away from him. He was too tempting—too sexy—too ready to give me something I’d never experienced. Something primal and filled with sin. Something that made me clench my thighs tightly and lick at my lips to taste him.
I didn’t trust myself to look him in the eyes again. As it was, I wanted to fall back into his arms. Knowing the expression on his face that awaited me, I couldn’t take the chance of looking at him. Grabbing my purse, I turned toward the door. I had to get out of there before things went any further.
Before I could get there, Ramirez poked his head in.
“All good?” he asked, his eyes moving over my body as if he could sense my arousal.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I looked up at him and gave him an innocent smile. “All good.” With that, I left the room without looking back.
When I left the hospital, I took a deep breath and leaned against my car. My insides were screaming to be released, my breasts so sensitive I bit into my lip at the slightest touch of my bra.
X had knocked me off my feet with one hand cuffed to the bed. I could only imagine what he could do with them both.
OVER THE NEXT few days, I couldn’t shake my thoughts of X. I could still feel his hands on my skin and every night I went to bed with my fingers in my panties and his soft growls on replay in my mind.
When I was at work, all I could think about was the words he’d said in the hospital. He couldn’t remember murdering two people. He couldn’t remember much of anything about the moments before the murders. His amnesia nagged me. Something was definitely off about his entire situation. I needed answers.
Dr. Giles had once told me he’d seen X’s files. I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten a peek at them. I was under the assumption they could only be viewed by those ranked captain or higher.
Officer Douglas was a captain, and we’d become friends since I started working at Fulton. He was a great guy, and we often worked the same shifts. I spent a lot of my time in conversation with him. He was a funny guy and always knew how to make my day better.
Maybe I could get him to show me X’s file?
After a few days of hesitation, I finally had the opportunity to ask. Dr. Giles was at lunch and it was just Douglas and me in the infirmary. We were watching over an inmate who was being treated for vertigo. Luckily for me, the inmate was passed out and I had plenty of time to work up the nerve to ask Douglas for what I wanted.
I read over some paperwork, every now and again looking up and watching Douglas. He was leaning back in his chair, one leg cocked up on the desk with a cup of coffee in his hand. He turned up his radio, trying to listen to the codes with a furrowed brow.
“Can I ask you something?” I went for it. “Something just between us?”
His eyes darted my way, and a smile crossed his face. “What’s up, buttercup?”
I chuckled at his friendly banter. “Dr. Giles told me he saw X’s file. Was that bad? I mean, I know he seems like a scary guy, but every time I think about how he saved me from Carlos, I can’t help but wonder, you know?”
Douglas’ eyes lowered briefly before he removed his leg from the desk and turned toward me. His spine stiffened, and I thought for a second that maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Lyla, don’t doubt for a second what these boys are capable of doing. I know you want to think the best of everyone, but you saw yourself what he’s capable of. Poor Stone and Parks.” He shook his head. “He almost killed them with his hands cuffed, and we’re still not sure who put Carlos Perez in that dryer.”
I nodded my understanding. I wanted to confess his innocence in Carlo’s death, but I couldn’t spill the beans about my hospital visit. Still, I couldn’t see it. I’d seen what he was capable of, but I also was starting to understand the reasons behind everything he did.
Turning away, he began to type some things into the computer in front of him. When he was done, he twisted the monitor my way and nodded at the screen.
“See for yourself. Let’s see if these pictures change your mind.” He stood. “I’m going to check on our dizzy friend.”
After he left me with the computer, I pulled up a chair and began flipping through the pictures. My stomach flipped, and my head swam with disgust as I took in each image.
Body parts lay strewn everywhere, arms and legs detached, and there was so much blood. It looked as if the entire room had been doused in it. Broken pieces of furniture were tossed around the room as if a tornado had touched down in the center. It was an unnatural disaster—a cluster of evil.
There was so much death—so much hate.
With a weak stomach, I looked over each picture carefully, searching for a clue. Each image painted the scene perfectly, letting the viewer know that a psychopath had indeed committed the crimes.
The final picture wasn’t of the crime scene, but instead, it was a full body picture of X after he’d been arrested. I stared at it, memories of our kiss moving through my mind. His eyes were hot and full of lust then, but in the picture, he looked dazed and afraid.
His young body was unscarred and smaller, much smaller. His was still tall, but his muscles weren’t as defined. No ink graced his skin, and he looked pale and confused. Prison had changed him. The cinderblock walls that held him in had transformed that boy in the picture to a hardened man. He wasn’t the monster he claimed to be before Fulton. Fulton had bred that monster, and the inmates and COs had fed it.
My eyes moved over the picture, taking in the blood that covered his body. It was on his face, chest, and arms. He stood there, naked to the world with his arms out and his palms visible. And that was when I knew. He was too small to have committed the gruesome crime. He couldn’t have been strong enough to cut through muscle and bone. X hadn’t cut those people into pieces. He was innocent.
I sat back in my chair as the realization came crashing over me. Losing myself in that moment, I let snippets of crime scene information move through my mind. I was so lost in thought that when Douglas came up behind me and touched my shoulder, I jumped.
“So what’s the verdict? Monster or not?” He studied my face, as if he were trying to figure me out.
“I don’t know yet,” I lied. “But I tend to find out.”
CHAPTER 14
LYLA
MY FOUR DAYS off were exactly what I needed to recharge. The week had been hectic and with all the new information I had swirling around my brain, I was mentally exhausted. I needed help, and I knew exactly where I needed to go to get it.
When I got out of the shower, I wrapped myself in my robe and towel dried my hair. My day wasn’t going to be pleasant, but if it meant possibly clearing Christopher’s name, then I would do it. I’d do whatever it took. Maybe I was drugged by the mere thought of him. Perhaps his kiss had sent me on a downward spiral, but I meant to find out.
Slipping on my favorite jeans, I pulled on a
T-shirt and a pair of socks. As I finished running my fingers through my curly hair, I added a touch of color to my face, which I hadn’t done since I started at the prison, and sprayed on my favorite perfume.
Grabbing my purse and keys on the way out the door, I headed to the place I’d known all of my life. It was like a second home to me, and when I opened the doors of the station and stepped in, I immediately went back in time.
The scent of coffee was welcoming and the banter between the officers made me smile. Phones rang every few seconds and I took it all in, enjoying the wave of nostalgia it brought me.
I stood in the center of the police station, my eyes touching every wall and piece of furniture until I landed on the photo of my dad. There was a plaque next to his picture, a dedication from his fellow officers. Swallowing against the emotion that threatened to choke me, I closed my eyes and wished that I could hear his voice once more.
“Lyla?” a voice called from behind me.
When I turned around, Charlie, my dad’s old boss, was standing there smiling back at me. “I must be seeing things.” He chuckled.
“Hi, Mr. Charlie.” I opened my arms, and he embraced me like he used to when I was younger. He had always doted on me.
“What are you doing here, carrot top?” He pulled away, taking in how much I’d changed since I’d last seen him at my dad’s funeral. “You’re not in any trouble, are you, sweetheart?”
I shook my head. “No, sir, but I could use some help. Do you have a few seconds?”
He motioned for me to follow him to his office, and when I walked in, I took a seat in the worn leather chair he offered. Looking around his office, my eyes moved over the pictures of his history as the police chief. He even had a picture of him and my dad together, both smiling at the camera after catching a murderer.
“It’s been, what, two years since I’ve seen you? Not since your daddy’s funeral.”
“Three years.” I swallowed hard, trying not to think about the pain being in his office brought. Trying not to think of the pain of missing my dad.
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