Free Prisoner (All of You Book 1) by Melissa Silvey Page A

That’s when he rushes me, and knocks me onto the matt.
    I don’t stay under him.  I roll over quickly, and climb on top of him, and hit him until he stops moving.  Then, just to be sure, I snap his neck.
    I sit there on top of him for several moments, until the guard grabs my hand.  I allow him to cuff my wrists, and then I stand and allow him to lead me out of the ring.  The crowd is going crazy, reaching out to touch me.  I jerk away from them.  I’m not celebrating this man’s death.
     
    Lani
     
    “Looks like you’re the lucky girl, Vaden,” De Soto says as he leads me and Jenna both into the prison.  We’re both blindfolded, but we also both know where we’re going.  We’re just two obedient prostitutes, selling our bodies for different reasons.  She’s selling hers for money, and I’m selling mine to stay alive.  Then I hear the door open, and I realize I’m not doing this just to stay alive.  The butterflies are again trapped in my stomach, and they’re there because I’m going to see him .
    “Here’s your girl, Roman,” a man says, as he removes my handcuffs.  It’s not De Soto. I guess he’s standing first in line for Jenna.
    “She’s not my girl,” he says forcefully, right before I’m shoved into the cell with him and the door closes behind me. 
    I remove the blindfold to find him pacing his tiny cell.  He’s breathing heavily, and rubbing his right fist with his left palm.  This is not the calm, almost cerebral man I met last week.  This man is hyped up on testosterone and practically climbing out of his own skin.  “Hey, it’s Lani.  Remember me?” I ask in my most serene cop voice.
    “Of course I fucking remember you,” he growls.  His eyes are two angry slits, and his nostrils are flared.
    “I remember you, too,” I admit.  “I’ve remembered you all week.”  That gets his attention.  He exhales loudly, and stops pacing.  “Did you wash your knuckles?”
    He moves his left hand off his right, and looks down at them.  I can see the blood on them from where I’m standing.  I assume he doesn’t get medical treatment after a fight, just a piece of ass from the jail.  “No,” he says hesitantly.
    “Why don’t you do that for me?”  I’m still talking in the tone I would use on a scared victim.  “Why don’t you wash in cold water, and I’ll wrap it up with my bandana here.”  I hold the purple cotton square out to him. 
    He looks at me, and I can tell that he’s relaxing a little.  The muscles in his jaw aren’t as tense, but the muscles in his neck are huge.  He walks toward the sink, and turns the water on.  “This is…”
    I couldn’t hear him over the water, so I take a step toward him.  “What?”
    He jumps when he hears me, and feels me so close to him.  “You’re quiet.”
    I chuckle at that.  “Sometimes.  I’m sure my ex-boyfriend wouldn’t agree with you.”  He frowns at the thought.  “I don’t mean…”  I stop there, because I don’t want to get into what I mean with him, not in his hormone driven state.  I gently take his right hand, and begin to wrap the bandana around his knuckles.
    But he lets it fall off, and his fingers go to my hair, and push a few errant strands over my ear.  “This is not who I am.”  His touch is too gentle for him to be a killer.  The heel of his palm grazes against my cheek, and I turn my head toward it.  Not that I’ve slept with many killers.  But I’ve had one or two in my interrogation room, and I didn’t think either of them would be as gentle a lover as this man is.
    I can’t tear my eyes away from his.  They are glittering with emotion, and not all of it is good.  “This isn’t who I am either,” I admit.  The fingertips of his left hand are on my cheek, then they move slowly to my lips. 
    “Who are you, Lani Vaden?”  His voice is rich, and husky.  I bet he smoked once upon a time.  I tear my eyes from his, and explore his face.  His