Guarded Hearts Ch. 06

No good lawyer makes grand promises. That's what the lawyer told me when she met with me the first week of January. Nothing about her appearance did anything to fill me with confidence. Sure, she was wearing a suit, and looking it over, I couldn't see anything wrong with it, but there was nothing about her at all that stood out. She was very much someone you could pass on the street and not notice at all, and yet despite her unremarkable appearance, being at the sudden forefront of her attention was unnerving. Truth be told, I was a little put off by her, and found myself wondering how my father seemed to think she was the right person for the job.

Her name was Janice, she was 48, she got her law degree from the University of Chicago at the age of 27, she had over a decade's worth of experience in the U. S. attorney's office for the northern district of Illinois, and then she spent the last eight years as a private criminal defense attorney. That was what she told me before she'd even sat down at the table, and simply put, I wasn't really sure how to respond to that. I know she was just listing her experience for my benefit, likely due to my father telling her about the last lawyer, but it came off as though she was starting some sort of dick-measuring contest.

"I'm Grant. I got 1100 on my SAT." I replied eventually, trying to lighten the mood a little.

I figured she didn't mean to make me feel intimidated, rather she was being forthright about her experience and her history, to help me build some confidence in her. But given my initial impressions being, well, slight disappointment, she came across more like someone who was trying to intimidate me, rather than reassure me. I didn't like her, almost immediately.

"And you're here for building and trying to sell a... an unregistered, short barreled rifle, because you had the hots for a federal agent." She added after a moment.

Well that was one way of putting it. Was she on my side or not? I watched cautiously as she laid her briefcase down on the table and sat opposite me, sporting what I'm sure she thought was a sympathetic smile, but appeared to me more like a smirk. I felt compelled to defend myself almost immediately.

"Yeah, don't forget, I also had a lawyer who delayed trial twice, and then didn't even tell me about a plea deal until it was too late." I cut in dryly.

"And then you showed up late for the first day of trial." She countered bluntly.

Yeah, I didn't like her at all. I wasn't feeling this, and whatever hopes I'd had walking into this meeting, expecting some kind of female equivalent of Harvey Specter... well the reality wasn't much like that, and it was kind of hard to muster much enthusiasm.

"Yeah, that can't have helped." I mumbled.

I wasn't really in the mood to argue, and I didn't want to argue with her. She was meant to be on my side, and yet she appeared quite hostile and self-righteous. I had half a mind to get up and tell her things weren't going to work out, but then she broke into a warm smile, and almost immediately, I felt a lot better. She went from looking like a faceless bureaucrat looking to bury me, to someone who could've passed for one of my mom's book club friends.

"I had a look over the stuff your dad gave me. We've got a lot we can work with." She said simply.

"You think so?" I asked hopefully.

Janice nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

She needn't have gone into detail about her experience, as in the next ten minutes she explained exactly why she was worth the tens of thousands that my mother and father had scraped together, borne from decades of hard work, wise investment, and saving for a rainy day. Well that rainy day came and went, nearly two years ago now, we made the mistake of not hiring the best. We were more focused on getting someone fast, and figured it would be as simple as paying some bargain basement Saul Goodman by the hour to attend court, make some impassioned argument in my defence, and get me acquitted. Never underestimate the ability of someone paid by the hour to drag things out, fuck things up, and fleece you for everything they can. That lawyer cost us nearly eleven thousand in the end, delayed trial for over a year, and the end result was probably worse than if I'd gone with a public defender. Janice was different though, I could tell.

She was upfront about my chances, and her pricing. She'd agreed with my father that she'd be paid fifteen thousand as a retainer, and to start the appeal process. She said nothing was guaranteed, and that nothing could be guaranteed, but that if we made it to retrial, she could need up to 45 more to put up a new defense. I asked what would happen if all my appeals failed. She said if that was the case, then that fifteen was all she'd be owed, and she'd still work on petitions for a sentence reduction, as that was part of her retainer package. I wasn't thrilled about the idea of her taking fifteen thousand of my family's hard earned dollars, and a lot less so about paying another 45 should I be dragged back to court again. But I suppose sixty grand for the very real opportunity to not be a felon anymore was a good deal really. Getting into the tactics for how to go about doing that, she wanted to attack my conviction on all fronts, but she said it was best for her to go one by one. Oddly enough though, once we went through the various angles of attack for my appeal, and the expected timeframe and costing for each, she wanted to talk about the rec room incident.

"First off, good work, by the way." She said simply. "That's going to help you if it comes time for trial. Juries love a hero, and I'm sure we can find a way to introduce that."

I couldn't help but snort with laughter at that. She looked at me for a moment, an odd look on her face.

"Hey, don't scoff, not many people would've stepped up like that." She said defensively, "That's probably the best thing you've done to help your case."

"I didn't do it for that." I replied bluntly.

I was a little offended by the insinuation that I'd helped Chloe purely out of self-interest, though after I thought about it for a moment, I figured she can't have meant it that way. She seemed to realize it was a bit of a touchy subject though, and quickly tried to placate me.

"I know. Believe me, I know, but it's going to help you either way." She explained. "It's gonna help you a lot. In fact, it could form a strong basis for a petition for clemency."

"What's that?" I asked, confused.

I knew more or less what clemency meant, but I wasn't sure what it meant in a legal context.

"Well, it's basically asking to have your sentence commuted. It's a last ditch chance to get you out of jail if all else fails."

"Well can we just do that first?" I asked, confused.

She sucked in air through her teeth. "We could, and we could still appeal the conviction once you're out, but a clemency petition that doesn't come with some kind of... statement of remorse, which is basically an admittance of guilt, wouldn't get anywhere."

"So if I admit guilt, express remorse, then it's likely the petition will work?" I asked after a moment.

"No." She replied firmly. "Clemency petitions are for lifers who have no better chance of seeing the world again before they die." She added bluntly. "They rarely work, and it's basically luck of the draw whether your letter lands on the right desk at all, let alone whether it gets read."

"Oh."

"And even if it did work, you'd be admitting guilt." She continued. "It wouldn't expunge your conviction, you'd probably have conditions for your release, you'd still be a felon, and it would seriously damage any chances at appeal."

"But, I'd be... out though, right?" I asked.

I don't know why I was so tied up on the clemency idea. I had a sudden vision of Chloe and I on the outside filling my heart with hope. Unrealistic hope, but hope nonetheless. Janice took a moment to look at me closely, as if trying to figure something out. She looked quite confused by my fixation on what we'd established should not be our first angle of attack, not by a longshot.

"What?" I demanded, after a minute or so of this.

"What do you want to do, when you get out?" She asked simply.

I thought about that for a moment, and I didn't have much of an answer for her. The only thing I did know was that I wanted to be with Chloe, but I still wasn't sure whether that's what she wanted. I knew Janice was asking about what I wanted to do for a career though. Truthfully, I never gave it any serious thought. I always had a lot of ideas, things I could see myself doing, but never much motivation to explore them. At first I told myself I was still young, and that I had time to figure it all out, and after my arrest, I figured the future was so uncertain that I didn't really make any plans.

"I dunno." I said eventually.

"Ever thought about law enforcement?" She asked, to which I shook my head. "Okay, well, what about being a teacher, or a lawyer, or doctor?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. I- I dunno, I mean, I... For a while, I thought about trying to get into gunsmithing, but... yeah, that wouldn't be a thing." I got out, slowly realizing what her point was. "Can't... can't do that, as a felon."

"Yeah, you can't own a gun as a felon." She replied after a moment. "Can't vote in a few places. You'll likely never hold public office, though stranger things have happened." She added with a slight laugh. "But a lot of jobs are off limits, and a whole host of other unfortunate things will make your life on the outside a lot more difficult than it should be."

"So, we try to... overturn the conviction, I guess." I mumbled.

She nodded. "There's a couple avenues of approach, and I'm going to make sure we investigate all of them, but if you've any questions, then now's the time to ask."

"So is mine like, the only case you're working on, or-" I began, but trailed off, realizing that wouldn't really make much sense.

"No, but I don't take a case if I can't afford to give it my fullest attention." She assured me.

"Right. How many other cases do you-" I began to ask, but stopped again.

She didn't seem offended by my hesitance, and gave me a small smile. "I have a spectacular young paralegal working with me full-time, a real prodigy, and I keep a PI on retainer. We manage about 15 cases at one time normally, but right now, yours makes 12."

I didn't want her to think I was doubting her. I could already tell she was a lot sharper than my last lawyer, a greasy-haired nasally man who constantly assured me I had "nothing to worry about" and told me his clients "get away with murder", like that was a selling point. He was like that right up until the moment I was in court, and he seemed to realize we had no valid defense, and federal prosecutors didn't fuck around. Janice was different though. She was confident, very much so, but she didn't spoon-feed me bullshit like he did.

I just nodded, not really sure what to think. "Do you think I've got a good chance of beating this?" I asked after a moment. "Because you're being paid a lot, and my folks aren't rolling in dough, y'know?"

She nodded. "I do. Juries are always unpredictable, but that being said, I think you have a good chance." She said firmly. "A year ago, I'd have said it could be a tossup, but I think with the chaos that's soon to unfold within the DOJ, they probably won't waste time trying to defend this. They're going to be very busy, and in the grand scheme of things, this case is nothing to them but another distraction."

"How'd you mean?" I asked, confused. "What chaos?"

"A new administration means a new attorney general, and that always means there's gonna be a shakeup." She replied confidently. "If anyone is gonna cause an upset, it'll be Trump. Whoever he appoints, the prosecutors won't want to poke their head above the parapet until the dust settles."

"So we... find a reason for a retrial, and hope they're too busy trying to hide from Trump's new AG to challenge it?"

"No, they'll challenge it, no doubt about that, but if we can get the retrial, either by finding something you didn't have the first time, or by going after your previous lawyer for incompetence, I think we have a good chance of them just not refiling the charges, because I doubt the prosecutors, or the new AG will want to go through the cost of retrying you." She clarified.

"Media might jump on it." I said after a moment. "That could help too."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we'll definitely have to weigh up the risks there, but if we can get friendly media talking about the case - and given the entrapment argument, and then what you did for that CO, we probably can - then that might give them less reason to go to trial again, especially with an unfriendly AG."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. All of a sudden, I could see the slightest hint of light at the end of the tunnel, and if it was real, then the grass would certainly be greener on the other side. I could be looking at a life outside of prison before the end of the year, and maybe, just maybe, with Chloe by my side. The thought was tantalizing, and I couldn't help but look forward to it like it was a done deal already. I stopped myself before the daydreams took over though. I had to, because nothing was certain. Nothing could be. This was just step one, and now it was up to Janice to do what she does, and work on getting me out.

"What's your record like?" I asked her after a moment, trying not to get my hopes up.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your case record. How many cases have you won, versus how many have you lost?" I clarified, trying not to sound too skeptical.

"Oh. Well, it's good." She said simply. "It's not the best in the world, not even the best in the country, but if I only took the cases that any lawyer could win, then I wouldn't be a very good lawyer." She added with a smile. "Plus, I stick with my clients to the bitter end, so you know I'm not gonna bail on you if it looks like it's going awry."

"I could be a free man, this time next year." I stated simply, unable to keep the smile from my face.

She smiled hesitantly back at me. "Like I said, I can't make promises, other than that I will do my absolute best." She replied, getting to her feet. "And if I had to bet, I'd bet that this goes our way."

"I don't know how to thank you." I said awkwardly, getting up and reaching out to shake her hand.

She shook it firmly. "Don't thank me until it's done, but if you want to help, I'll tell you what I tell everyone. Keep your head down, keep out of trouble, and keep in contact." She said warmly. "I will be in touch, and if you have questions or concerns, don't hesitate to call."

Keep out of trouble. Well I'd certainly try, but it was easier said than done, especially given recent events. Chloe and I had rather sensibly agreed to cash out whilst we were ahead that Christmas Eve. Once Kara left she helped me clamber out from behind the sofa, and it was pretty awkward whilst I waited until she was sure the coast was clear for me to leave. We didn't talk much. I wanted to discuss the conversation she'd had with Kara, but she seemed just as, if not more, unwilling to talk than before.

When it was clear and I'd gotten back to my cell, rather than allowing myself to get frustrated by the fact we'd been interrupted, I'd ended up just thinking over how close we'd come to being discovered. It made my stomach churn. Kara could have barged in and literally caught us in the act. While that could certainly get me in a heap of shit, I'd risked Chloe's job and perhaps her freedom too, and just so we could have sex.

I'd been so goddamn selfish. I really had. Chloe was taking the risk, not me, and yet I'd... kept pushing. I'd let it go too far, all because I'd allowed myself to fall for her so hard, and I'd not stopped to seriously consider the consequences. What were the consequences for her? If we were properly caught, as in, caught dead to rights, like we so nearly had been, she'd be fired, I had no doubt about that. But there had to be more to it than that. Being fired was bad enough, but what about legal consequences? Would they accuse her of abusing her position? She hadn't, and I knew she never would, but they wouldn't exactly take my word for it. I was very glad all of a sudden that I'd talked her out of trying to bring stuff in for me, because I knew that was a felony. What about the sex though? I knew it wasn't allowed, that much was obvious, but something told me it was a bit more serious than just being 'not allowed'.

I'd had those questions burning away at me for the last week or so, all through Christmas and New Year, and while I wasn't quite sure about Janice yet, she was my lawyer, and she was being paid for her legal services, and I knew one part of that was strict confidentiality. Despite all that, I was still hesitant to ask, but when she turned around to leave, I knew I had to get some clarity about what the risks were.

"Oh, hey, just one last question." I cut in quickly, just as she was about to knock on the door to be let out.

"Shoot." She replied, turning back around.

"So uh... first off, we're not being... recorded here, are we?" I asked after a moment, glancing up at the camera in the corner of the room.

She looked a little puzzled by that. "Uh, no, they uh... they're not permitted to record audio or video of privileged conversations."

"Right, but... they could be?" I pressed, grimacing slightly.

She shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. Anything they find out through illegally eavesdropping here is inadmissible. Though that doesn't apply to anything you say on the phone, or anything they get from informants here, things like that."

"Right, even if it concerns stuff that might incriminate... someone else?" I continued.

"Yes. It's..." She began, but stopped. "Uh, no... actually." She added after a moment, before walking back towards me, stopping just a foot or so away.

"Right, so, if someone... overheard, and-" I began quietly, but stopped with a sigh. "You're sure they wouldn't try and listen in here?"

"Is it something that implicates you?" She asked quietly, the concern in her voice evident.

"No." I replied quickly. "But, hypothetically, say I became aware of... CO corruption. Well not corruption, but uh, certain things they could get fired for, I'm just wondering what kind of trouble they'd be in, legally speaking."

She looked a little perplexed all of a sudden. "Well, that would depend on whatever that CO did." She said simply. "It could be they just get fired, it could be they face a hell of a lot of prison time, it depends. I'd need specifics."

"Right." I mumbled. "Right, say a CO was... having relations with an inmate, what sort of trouble would they get in?"

She raised an eyebrow for a moment, and seemed to be thinking about what to say next. "Uh, that would depend on a few things." She replied awkwardly.

"Such as..."

She was looking at me rather strangely, and I had no doubt she saw right through my whole 'hypothetical' bullshit. But she knew to play along.

"Well uh... if we're assuming this is consensual, and the CO doesn't convince the administration that the... inmate raped them, then they would probably be charged with rape instead." She said quietly.

"What?" I asked with a laugh, sure I'd misheard her.

"Well as a federal prisoner, you are a ward of the United States government, and so you cannot give informed consent." She said simply. "It's one of the many freedoms you lose when you call this place home."

"Right, but like-" I began, but she cut me off.

"Grant, I'm your lawyer. As your lawyer I cannot impress this upon you strongly enough. The last thing you want to do is get involved with a CO." She said firmly, staring me down.

"I'm not-" I began, but she cut me off again.

"Is it that woman from back in October?"

I opened my mouth to argue, to keep up the pretence, but there wasn't much point to it, really. If anyone was listening, then hiding everything behind the thin veneer of hypotheticals was just a speed bump.

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah it's her."

She looked at the ceiling and rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out a breath as she processed this sudden new minefield I'd presented her with. She looked back at me after a moment, and I couldn't help but feel like she was judging me.

"It just sort of happened, I know it's-" I began, but trailed off, quickly realizing that apologies or justifications were pointless.

"No, it's- No I, I get it. I understand." She replied after a moment, but she didn't appear reassured. "And are the two of you-" She started to say, but trailed off, pursing her lips in concern.

I had to laugh a little bit, as I thought about how best to answer her unasked question. I just nodded slightly, drawing a sigh of irritation out of Janice. I had to look away after, as I couldn't quite stop the smile on my face from spreading. Chloe was miles out of my league. I knew that, as would anyone with eyes and sense. The fact that I was the one she trusted to see her, touch her, kiss her, and to be inside her, well that felt good. She'd chosen me, after what happened, after seeing her when she was at her most vulnerable, and that wasn't something I overlooked. She'd put a lot of trust in me, and I was proud of that. It made me feel like a man. A man who was worthy of that trust, and not just some stupid kid locked up in prison.

"And, so back in October, she was definitely in trouble, right? Because it wouldn't be the first time that-" Janice began after a moment, but stopped upon seeing the look on my face.

Was she seriously suggesting that Chloe was with Norman by choice, and then made it look like rape to save her skin? I didn't reply at first, and watched as she glanced away awkwardly. I couldn't help but be quietly furious at that question. She clearly had no idea what actually happened if she thought it might've been faked. She probably only had what she'd been told by my father, and maybe some documentation from the prison, both of which likely failed to paint the full picture. Regardless, I had to turn away for a few moments and let my anger dissipate. I didn't want to alienate the only person on my side who had the capacity to do anything to help me, but she crossed a line there, and after a few moments of silence, she realized that.

"Sorry. I wasn't there, so if you're certain-" She began, but I cut her off.

"We both got stabbed, so I'm pretty certain he meant to rape her." I said without thinking, my voice firm, yet even and measured.

She didn't reply, and we stood awkwardly for a while as I tried to get the death stare off my face before looking back at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were stabbed." She admitted after a moment.

"It's fine." I replied tersely.

We stood in silence for a short while, before Janice put her briefcase back down on the table and sat back down. I didn't want to join her. I knew a long, difficult conversation was sure to follow. I stayed standing and just leaned against the wall, looking away at a corner of the room.

"You know you have to break it off, right?" She said eventually.

She didn't say it like an order, she said it like it was a truth we both already knew, and it was. I knew we had to break it off. I think I knew that the moment Kara walked through the door, just feet from where I was hidden.

"You know you do. You don't need me to tell you that. I'm not... doubting what you have, or what you-" She continued cautiously, but stopped. "This happens a lot more than you think Grant." She added after a moment, her normal pragmatic tone returning in force. "And every single time it happens, it ends in disaster. Usually, when they get caught, the inmate is accused of raping the CO. All the CO has to do is make the accusation, and if there's no hard evidence to the contrary, then who do you think they're gonna believe?"

"She wouldn't do that." I said, and in my heart I knew it was the truth.

"Are you sure?"

I looked across at her with an unimpressed glare. She met my eyes with an equally hard stare and gestured at the seat opposite her. I let out a dejected sigh and sat down. I already knew I wasn't going to enjoy this conversation.

"Twenty years." She said simply.

"What?" I asked, wearily rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"That's what you'd get, if she turned on you." Janice said firmly. "All she'd have to do is say you pressured her into it, even if it appeared totally consensual, and you'd spend 20 years in maximum security."

I didn't reply. I tried not to think about it, but the thought of even doing a day longer than I had to put my stomach in a knot immediately.

"Have a long, hard think about that." She said bluntly. "Twenty years, in a place worse than this, with people worse than here, with no chance of ever getting out early, and then when you finally do, and you've spent the best years of your life locked in a cage, you won't recognise the world around you. Is that what you want?"

"She wouldn't do that." I repeated, and while my voice was firm, my conviction was not.

"You don't know what people will do when they're facing down years in a place like this." Janice replied. "You might think she won't turn on you, and maybe she won't, but she could easily get five years. She'd lose her career, her pension, and she'd be a felon, and that's if you both claim it was consensual." She continued, on a roll now. "Do you think she'll do those five years for you?"

"I love her." I got out, without really thinking.

Janice looked really quite worried now, and I could see her trying to hide the frustration on her face. I'd just thrown a wrench in the works and probably made her job a lot more difficult. I didn't care though. It was the first time I'd really admitted that to myself, let alone to another person. Sure, I'd told Chloe I loved her, during our last... encounter, but it was said in passion, with her lips wrapped around my cock, and I don't think she thought I meant it. I didn't think I meant it at the time either, but in hindsight, why would I have said it, if it wasn't true? How couldn't I love Chloe? She probably saved my life, I then risked my life to save hers, and just as Kara said, I wouldn't have done it for anyone else. I got stabbed in the process, and I knew when I made that decision, that I very likely could've died. And yet I stepped in anyway, because I couldn't bear the thought of not doing so. I was willing to die for her. What was that, if not love?

I imagined myself in the future some day, maybe even some day soon, standing in the kitchen, in a home of my own, with a couple kids running around. And whenever this vision appeared, there was only one woman I could imagine there with me. Nobody else but her graced my dreams, and the last month had proven to me that those dreams were not outside the bounds of reality, and she'd already made a few of the dirtier ones come true. I loved her, but as to whether she loved me, I wasn't quite sure yet. She liked me a lot, but real love came with trust, and I knew she didn't quite trust me yet. She said she did, and I'm sure she trusted me in some ways, but perhaps not in others.

"If you love her, then you wouldn't put her job and her freedom at risk." Janice replied eventually, snapping me away from those hopeful, and probably hopeless visions of a future.

Not the future, but a future. A future that I was convinced could be real one day, and one I knew I wanted. I wanted it so badly, it hurt me to even consider the possibility that the reason for it slipping away could be because of me. Janice was right. Of course she was right. Being discovered meant she would be ruined, and we'd had a stark reminder of how easily we could be discovered that night on Christmas Eve. If I really cared about Chloe, then I wouldn't put her at risk like that. Well, I do care, and so I wouldn't. We'd had a whole lot of fun together, and I'd miss the feel of her lips against mine. And her body, God would I miss her body. But none of that was worth ruining her life over. If I truly loved her, then I would wait until fate saw fit to make me a free man again.

"If she loves you back, if she doesn't throw you under the bus, do you think the COs will treat you well after you got one of their own sent down?" She continued, after I didn't reply.

That was a good point, and one I hadn't really considered until she brought it up. I knew that being on the COs' bad side was a very bad place to be, as I'd seen the consequences for inmates who had no CO protection. I imagine if Norman had somehow been permitted to stay after what he did, he'd have not lasted two weeks. The COs wouldn't have done anything to him, but only because they wouldn't have needed to. The prison would have killed him, and that was no exaggeration. Chloe was a special case, given she was widely respected, but even for anyone else, once inmates knew someone was persona non grata, his life became very miserable, very quickly. If they weren't affiliated, and they managed to piss off the COs enough, then they had nobody.

I learned that about early September, seeing some guy get his shit kicked in by an oddly diverse group of inmates, and observing a CO simply walk past the cell where it was going down, like he couldn't hear anything. I didn't step in either. Why would I? I didn't know the man, I had no reason to put myself in harm's way, especially when I was still feeling the effects of my own beatdown. My cellmate later told me that the inmate was a known wife beater, that he'd disrespected several people for no reason, and that he'd threatened one of the female COs. It made sense that after that, nobody had any real desire to help him. Nobody knows exactly why he got beat up, but nobody really cared. He ended up being in the infirmary for three weeks, and was eventually transferred. Generally speaking, nobody with any sense went out of their way to piss off the COs.

"Grant, in all likelihood, you'll be out of here within the year." Janice said eventually. "Please, please don't keep this going. It will be the end of you, of both of you."

"I'll break it off." I mumbled, not looking at Janice, slumping back in my chair as I tried to think about just how I was going to go about doing that.

"Thank you." She said softly, the relief in her voice clear. "I know it might seem unfair, but if you got caught, and she didn't turn it around on you, then she'd be really screwed. When they get them to stick, those PREA charges can be really nasty."

"Mhmm." I mumbled.

"The last thing you need is her getting arrested playing on your conscience." She added after a moment.

"I know." I said finally. "I'll break it off. She'll understand."

---

"What?" Chloe said with a slight laugh, as if I had to be joking.

It was the second week of January, and Chloe and I were standing outside in the yard again, wrapped up like eskimos, watching the last remnants of a dazzling sunset turn the thin clouds a deep pink. While it was beautiful, I wish we could've found somewhere more comfortable to talk. But it had been a few days since I met with Janice, and I knew I had to break things off before I changed my mind. Because I knew if I delayed doing so long enough, I probably would. I'd be lonely, and horny, and I'd decide that the risk was acceptable. I didn't feel good about that, but I knew that every day went by without her touch, I got more and more desperate for it, and I feared I might not be strong enough to do what had to be done. Once I was sure we weren't being listened to, I told her straight. I didn't trust myself to stick to what I'd resolved if I didn't tell her in no uncertain terms.

"We're done." I repeated simply, still facing away towards the yard.

I tried not to sound... uncaring, but I had to tell her firmly, without any wiggle room for misinterpretation or backpedalling. I didn't know if she'd try to talk me out of it, though I guess I wished she would, but only a little. It would make me feel wanted, if she tried to change my mind, but at the same time, I wasn't sure if I had the willpower to resist her, should she press the issue. I love her, and as such, while she could inspire in me both great strength and courage, courage I never used to think I'd be capable of, she could also make me weak in ways I never thought I would be, ways nobody else could. She had me wrapped around her finger, and I think she knew that.

"Okay... Again, what the fuck does that mean?" She asked, confused, with just the slightest hint of worry in her voice.

I sighed, and looked across at her. I wanted to take her hand in mine as I told her, and give her a final kiss, but beyond the obvious dangers of discovery that entailed, it wouldn't make it any easier for either of us.

"Chloe, you know what it means." I replied quietly.

I watched as her face fell. She knew what it meant, and evidently she knew why, as she just nodded slightly, and quickly looked away. She didn't reply, and for a few moments, all we could hear was the howling of the wind, as we watched the unyielding sky - now void of the last vestiges of warmth and light - cast us into darkness. God, what an awful way to break things off. What was left? I couldn't leave it like that. I had to keep a spark going to keep her warm, to let her know this wasn't forever. I wanted to be with this woman, and I knew practicing restraint whilst we were in here was the only way we'd be able to stay in contact. Eventually, once the powers that be saw fit to give me my freedom back, we could be together. I just had to hope that was what she wanted, and that she was willing to wait.

"We can't do this anymore." I continued eventually. "It's too risky. If we... well, you know what could happen."

She just nodded, but didn't turn to look at me. I was looking at her, trying to get her to meet my eyes, to understand that I didn't want to do this, so I didn't have to decipher the stream of consciousness that would spew forth if I were to try and explain how I felt, and how I wasn't able to deal with this any other way. Perhaps it would've been possible for me to approach Chloe, tell her how I felt, and try to explain the reasoning for why we had to cool things off. I could have been rational and disciplined about it, but that was for people with their life together. That was for people who faced their problems when they identified them, people who were strong, capable, and confident in themselves and the place they occupy in the world. That was for adults. That was not me. I'm 22, and only just, at that. I am in prison, and I do not know what I am, what I might be, or the road to get there. Looking at her for a moment, I knew I owed her something more than "It's too risky." After an agonizing few moments, I was able to distill some of what I felt into a better explanation, an explanation that felt... true.

"Chloe, I don't wanna see you get hurt because of me." I got out.

'I love you.' I almost said. I wanted to tell her that, I wanted to tell her that more than anything. I wanted her to know just how much she means to me, but it would've felt shallow. What I'd said that Christmas Eve was just as true now as it was then. We were still strangers. Strangers who'd saved each other's lives, who'd shared a traumatic experience together, and then shared a wonderful experience together as well. We found in one another an intimate affinity that couldn't be explained away, and we trusted one another in that regard, but we were still strangers.

And yet I love her. It wasn't just because of that night. Well, that was certainly part of it. How couldn't I love her after that unforgettable night? Her soft, full lips passionately attacking my own, the way she seemed to melt into my touch like we were made for each other, the tingle in my fingers whenever I brushed them against her, like touching a live wire.

But then, of course, the sex. I had no frame of reference from before she made me a man. I had nothing to compare it to. Nothing could come close. The dreams I had of her, the lurid sexual fantasies my young mind often dreamed up, and the skill of a hand or... other aids, was like a drop from a faucet in comparison to an ocean of ecstasy. She made me feel alive in a way I'd never felt before, and that Christmas Eve I felt much the same. She was incredible, and while it lasted, the intimacy we shared was like a dream. Except, unlike a dream, I remembered all of it vividly. How could I not love her after that?

Though even before that first night, I loved her anyway, and had we done little more than hold hands and exchange a peck on the cheek, I'd have gone to bed a happy man, and I'd still love her all the same. I loved her when I pulled Norman and his blade away from her that night, and it was that love that made me fight as hard as I did. But I couldn't tell her that. Not right now, not when we were under such suspicion from Kara that if we carried on, being caught was an inevitability.

"So, that's it?" She asked eventually, turning towards me. "You had your fun with me, and now we're done?" She added, the slightest hint of bitterness in her tone taking me aback.

"No, I- Chloe I don't-" I began, desperate to not be misunderstood, desperate for her to know that I wasn't that kind of man, but she turned away, causing the words to die in my throat.

"It's cold out here." She said, the slightest tremble to her voice. "You should go inside."

I was about to continue trying to explain myself, but I could just about see the tears rolling down her cheeks, and I knew nothing I said could make things better right now. Nothing would, except taking it back, apologizing, compromising, or some other half-measure that would quickly fall by the wayside when it came down to it. That couldn't be allowed to happen, because we would get caught, and her life would be ruined. Memories of that wonderful night in late November flooded back as I took a moment to strengthen my resolve. I could live with her hating me, but I couldn't live with being the person who wrecked her life, after I'd fought so hard for her. I opened my mouth to say something, but there was nothing left to say that would do any good, and so I just nodded slightly, and left without another word.

I knew I'd regret it. And I did. That's why I forced myself to do it. I knew it had to be done, but I also knew that with enough time, I would change my mind, and I did. It took only about the five minute walk back to my cell for me to wish I could take it all back. I knew, in my rational mind, that it was the only surefire way to keep us both safe in the long run, yet there was still a tightness in my chest and a stinging in my eyes as I stumbled back to my cell. Hardly had I got in the door and closed it behind me when I collapsed face first onto my bunk, sobbing into my sheets as I tried to come to terms with what I'd just done.

"You had your fun with me." Is that really what she thought of me? Like I saw her as some sort of conquest, like I didn't value her at all, when nothing could be further from the truth. How could she think that of me after what I did for her? After I risked my life for her, after I bled for her? I wasn't angry though. I wished I was. It would've been far easier for me to blame her for the pain I was feeling. It wasn't pain that she'd inflicted, no matter what she'd said. It was me who was responsible for this. It was me who sent into motion the series of events that led to that night, when I told her about my dreams of her, when I told her how I liked to hold her. Something I said made her decide to risk her job and her freedom, for us to share the most wonderful night of my life.

I wasn't naive enough to believe she did it because she just really wanted to fuck me. She did it because she knew it's what I wanted, and she wanted me to be happy. Maybe she only did it because she thought she owed me. This wasn't the first time that had played on my mind, but given how that night went, I don't think that was the full truth. She liked me, and she felt something for me, enough to where she was willing to risk her job and freedom by making love with me. She had to have known the consequences of getting caught, right? She had to know that it meant one of us would end up on a list, and lose out on about at least half a dozen of the best years of our lives. She couldn't have not known that. I had no doubt that the consequences of relationships with inmates was drilled into the head of every new CO, especially when they're working with inmates of the opposite sex. She knew the risks, and yet she gave me her love anyway. She put it all on the line for me, and then at the first hint of trouble, I threw it back at her, and told her we were done.

"We're done." Could I have been gentler? Fuck, I probably could have. I could've said the same thing with more words, nicer words, and eased her into the understanding that... whatever we had, had to stop. It was made worse by the fact that I didn't know what I am to- was. What I was, to her. Was, because whatever we had, whatever it was, it was no longer. And I'd done that, leaving no room for confusion, and it hurt me, just as I knew it would when I walked up to her, repeating the words in my head like a mantra, so that when I opened my mouth, it was the only thing I could say. Well I said it, and that made it true.

Why couldn't I have been kinder? Why couldn't I have been more loving with her, like she'd always been with me? I knew why, and the reason was simple. I wasn't brave enough to tell her the whole truth, and I wasn't strong enough to tell her no. If she wanted to keep it going, I would have never told her no. I don't think I could. And so, I was harsh, because a sharp break was the only break that I thought couldn't be mended. I had to cut it off cleanly and completely. Had I left a single strand remaining, then I would go back to her, do everything I could to reconnect, and if she was willing, then before long we'd end up back at it, and then we'd get caught. That couldn't be allowed to happen. I wouldn't let that happen.

---

January in New Hampshire was cold, anyone could tell you that. Now, I was used to cold. After all, Iowa isn't what you'd call a warm climate. But the wind, good God, the wind, it was unrelenting. Add the snow to that, and you had the kind of weather that would drive men to sail across the ocean to get away from it. I even felt sorry for Kara when I saw her on patrol, trudging across the frozen grounds, a torrent of biting snow coming at her sideways. And every time I saw Chloe, she looked like she was there in body, but not in spirit. She didn't seem to be paying attention to anything or anyone. She didn't go out of her way to willingly talk with anyone. If she was approached, she'd engage in polite pleasantries, but it was almost like she was on autopilot.

I wasn't the only one who'd noticed, either. I overheard Michael, one of the more senior supervisors, talking quietly with Kara about her during work in the wood shop, near the end of the month. I couldn't make out all of what they were saying, as I was meant to be working, and a cacophony of sanding belts, table saws and drills were going on at the same time, but I made out enough to get the gist of it. Kara was worried about Chloe, but I only heard a couple of keywords through the din of the woodshop's various machinery. The words 'disinterested' and 'unreliable' floated across to me as I continued working on the oddly shaped piece of wood I figured was to one day become a chair leg. I wanted to hear a little more of what was being said, but the noise from my sander was overpowering almost everything.

I eased off the pedal and turned slightly towards them, pretending to check my work in a better light, but the moment I glanced across at them, trying to get a better read on what was being said, I saw Kara's watchful gaze go right to me. Her cool green eyes met mine, and the conversation she was having with Michael stopped in an instant. I pretended not to notice as she stared at me, but after looking back at my piece for a moment, holding it up to the light to get a look at the curves, still pretending to inspect it, I saw she hadn't looked away. Steeling myself for a moment, I made eye contact again, feigned confusion, and slowly raised an eyebrow, as if to ask why it was she was staring at me. She eventually looked away, said something indistinct to Michael, and left a few moments later.

I expected Chloe's behaviour to eventually improve, but she seemed to just continue spiralling. Kara said it best. Disinterested, in everything and everyone, or so it seemed. It wasn't uncommon to get COs like that, especially if they were working nights, or it was near the end of the shift, but Chloe was never like that, even when she was tired or annoyed, and now, she was like that every day. She didn't smile at anyone anymore, and I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. It wasn't just Kara and Michael who seemed to think something was up, you had inmates who wouldn't normally be caught dead asking about feelings or whatnot, all of a sudden trying to psychoanalyze her like TV doctors in a medical drama. The woman who was always smiling had just... stopped. Norman couldn't break her spirit, but I had.

It was midway through February when I decided enough was enough, and that I had to talk to her. I didn't want to put her at risk, but the way she'd been the last few weeks meant she was putting herself at risk anyhow. At first I tried just getting her attention when there wasn't anyone nearby, but she didn't want to engage. It took a few days of this, getting weird looks whenever anyone would come round the corner to see me hanging around her awkwardly, before I lost my nerve. I made a note of what her schedule was likely to be, based on where I saw her throughout the morning, and tried to... well, ambush is such a nasty word, but there wasn't really a better way of putting it. I caught up with her in the library during dinner, when we could be reasonably assured of privacy.

She was lying down on the sofa where we'd consummated our relationship, scrolling through TikToks on her phone, seemingly not caring a bit that she was breaking every rule in the book. If she was caught right now, she would be fired on the spot, and they could probably charge her for even bringing her own phone into the prison proper. The worst part was, she hardly looked up upon hearing the door open, and once she registered that it was me, she just kept scrolling. I walked over and just stood a few feet from her. I thought I'd be nervous, or worried about what to say, but I really wasn't. I was angry, and this time, I was angry with her. I'd broken things off specifically so she wouldn't get fired, and it wasn't easy for me, but I did it for her, to save her career. And here she was, doing something that would guarantee her to lose it, seemingly without a care in the world.

"Chloe, are you retarded?" I asked after a few moments of just standing there, watching her mindlessly scrolling.

That got her to actually look up. She looked a little hurt, but more just confused.

"No?" She replied after a moment.

She sounded unsure, like she wasn't sure what the answer was. It was rhetorical, I guess, but I think she was more just confused on why I was insulting her all of a sudden.

"Why do you think I insisted we break things off?" I demanded, still angry, though it was starting to wane slightly.

She opened her mouth to answer, but I cut her off before she could say anything.

"Do you think that was what I wanted?"

I knew I was being insensitive. I knew I was being immature, but I needed her to acknowledge why I did what I did, and understand that it wasn't because I didn't value her. She had to understand. I had to get her to understand.

"I- No, I don't know." She got out after a moment.

"I broke things off because I care about you!" I exclaimed, my voice cracking slightly. "I don't want to see you lose your job or get arrested, and now you're here on your fucking phone, basically just going out of your way to get canned anyway!"

She didn't reply, but she also didn't go back to looking at her phone. I sighed and sat down next to her. She tucked her feet in to give me space. It wasn't much, but it was an acknowledgement. It was perhaps the first bit of encouragement I'd gotten from her. It meant she wanted me to stay, and that maybe now, she was willing to talk.

"Chloe, I'm sorry."

It had to start there. I owed her so much more than that though. I'd been so worried about breaking things off without hurting myself that I hurt her instead. I didn't think- well, that's not true. It's not that I didn't think, I did think. I thought it through so many times, desperate for any justification not to cut it off, but I couldn't hand wave away what Janice had told me. Rape. That's how the prison saw this. That's how the law saw this. If we were caught, one of us was to be branded as having raped the other. It wasn't true, of course, but the truth doesn't matter to them, only the law does. There was no getting away from that, no justifying that risk, to the both of us, and I knew that.

I also knew that if I broke things off, it would hurt her, because I knew that I meant something to her, but I think I just assumed she would be stronger than me, that she, who was able to come back to work smiling after what happened, would be strong enough to deal with the hurt I would inflict. It wasn't that I overestimated her. Rather, I'd underestimated how much I mattered to her. I guess I was so focused on how much she meant to me, and how best to spare my own feelings, opting for a so-called 'clean break' that I didn't stop to think how much I meant to her. Realizing this, and for just a moment, understanding the pain I'd put her through, I couldn't help but allow a few tears through. I looked away as I tried to get a hold of myself.

"I'm not retarded." She mumbled unhappily. "That's a rude thing to say."

I sniffed, looking down at my feet. "I know. I'm sorry."

"You're retarded." She said after a few moments, but there was no malice to her words.

I couldn't help but let out a choked laugh. "Yeah. Yeah I feel like that sometimes." I got out, and looked across at her, just about keeping the tears down.

She looked really sad still, but for just a moment, I felt like it wasn't my doing. She was hurting, that was clear, and I was no doubt responsible for some of it, but I remembered how she was that Christmas Eve. Emotionally guarded, yet determined to distract from it. There was something else going on with her, and I had to know what it was.

"I'm still a good listener though." I added after a moment, giving her a hesitant smile.

She didn't return it, much to my dismay, instead just looking away for a moment, her face unreadable.

"Chloe, I love you."

The words left my mouth before I even let them into my mind, and the moment I said it, I wished I could unsay it, but not because it wasn't true. She looked across at me, confused, and instinctively I looked away, pursing my lips anxiously as I tried to calm myself. Looking back at her a moment later. I could see her looking at me strangely. She didn't say anything, but it was clear she was waiting for me to say something. She was giving me an out, letting me take it back, without making it obvious. I thought for a moment about just not saying anything, or even apologizing, but that would be wrong. I'd said it, and it was true. Truth had been sidelined enough throughout this affair. Now was the time for it to have its showing, and I had to see how she felt, how she really felt. My heart beating like a drum, I looked her right in the eyes.

"I love you." I repeated simply.

She looked away. "No you don't." She said after a moment.

Well that was disheartening. She wasn't being deliberately dismissive or mean, I don't think she knew how to be mean, but she clearly wasn't taking me seriously. Either that, or she didn't think I was telling the truth. I didn't let that deter me though. If, for her to trust me enough to tell me what was going on, then she needed the truth from me, then she'd have it.

"No, I do." I said quietly, a lot more sure of myself now.

I'd let it slip, and she gave me an out, but I didn't care. I was done pretending. I love her, and it was time she knew that. Whatever happened after, she had to know.

She sighed and looked back at me. "Grant, you're not the first person to say that to me and not mean it."

Well that was another kick in the teeth, but I was still undeterred.

"I don't care." I said honestly. "I do mean it. I love you, and I want us to be together."

"You want to fuck again, you mean." She replied bluntly, looking quite like she'd rather not be having this conversation.

I sighed. "Chloe, I'm telling you the truth. I broke things off because I love you. I care about you, and I can't be the reason you-" I began, but she cut me off.

"Yeah, you said that already!" She snapped in frustration. "You said you don't want me getting in trouble, well fucking... I- Can't you just- URRRRGHHH" She continued, before trailing off in a shriek of annoyance.

I watched as she laid back on the sofa and put her hands over her face. I had no idea what to make of this. It had to go beyond just the two of us. There was something else going on that I wasn't privy to, and whether I had a right to or not, I wanted to know what it was. I really wasn't sure what to say though, so I just sat there, waiting for her to put into words whatever it is that troubled her. Evidently she didn't think I loved her. She thought it was just blind lust. It wasn't blind lust that made me take that shiv for her.

"I don't think I could've done what I did that night if I didn't love you." I admitted.

Again, the words came out before I could gauge them, filter them, sanitize them.

She sat back up and looked at me, confused. "What?"

Again, I found myself wishing I could take it back, but again, I didn't, because I'd told myself I wouldn't lie, and what I'd said was the honest, shameful truth.

"Back in October, with Norman." I said quietly, not quite able to meet her in the eyes,

"Grant, I don't-" She began, but I cut her off.

"I'm not brave!" I said sharply, still not able to look at her. "I'm not... that guy. I wouldn't have- If it wasn't you, I don't think I could've stepped up." I continued rapidly, desperately unburdening myself of the secret shame that ate me up.

She didn't say anything, and I found myself looking down at my knees, deathly ashamed of what I was saying, that fulfilling my moral obligation was conditional. Oh well, it was all coming out now. She had to know what she meant to me. I reached across and took her hand in mine. She bristled slightly, but didn't pull away. Touching her again felt like a lifeline. A gentle, fragile connection to the only person who was ever able to draw the best out of me.

"But it was you." I said softly, still not able to look at her. "And... for you, I couldn't have done anything else. For you, I would've..." I continued, before trailing off.

I was going to tell her I would've died for her, and that I would've killed for her, but I didn't need to. She knew. She told me she used to relive that night in awful, vivid detail, and I had no doubt she remembered the way in which I threw myself at that man, and the seething fury with which I employed violence upon him. Yet violence didn't come naturally to me. It never had. I never believed I was wholly capable of such a thing. It was part of the reason I got into firearms almost immediately upon turning eighteen. What chance would I have against a home invader, intent on doing me or my family harm, without a gun? How could I - who I truly believed had neither the nerve, nor the skill or physique to defeat such a threat - protect myself and my loved ones without the great equalizer of the firearm? I never believed I could. I was wrong.

"If it was anyone else, I'd have been a coward." I began again, keeping my voice measured, trying desperately not to let the weakness and shame into my voice. "I'd have... stood at the side, fucking shitting myself, or running away, I wouldn't have-" I stopped myself, and forced myself to look up at her.

I thought I might see dismay, betrayal, some kind of... disconnect, or disgust, for the weakness I was admitting to, as had always been the case with any other woman I'd ever made the mistake of opening my heart to, even the littlest bit, but not so with Chloe. Chloe was different. Within her deep brown eyes I saw the kindness and humanity that was so repressed in this place, the very thing that made me fall for her, all those months ago. In her eyes I saw the love and the passion that, in my darker moments, I'd thought I might never find. I saw a life outside of this place, free to live and love, together. I saw the future.

"You made me... brave." I said after a moment, letting out a slight laugh. "You made me into someone my parents would be proud of, and I love you."

"Grant, I-" She began, but I cut her off, terrified of what she might say next, and preparing myself for the rejection that... despite everything we'd done together, all the things that could have ruined our lives if we were caught, I still saw as inevitable.

"Don't tell me I don't." I said simply. "Because I do."

She didn't say anything for the longest time, and as the silence suffocated us, I found myself just looking into her eyes, holding her hand loosely in mine, waiting, desperately, for something. Now it was her who couldn't meet my eyes, and I could see the conflict etched upon her face. Eventually she just pulled her hand away fast and got to her feet.

"I uh- I'm gonna-" She began, gesturing at the phone in her hand, before stuffing it inside her vest. "I'll talk to you later." She got out.

Her eyes flickered across to mine, and upon her face, for just a moment, I thought I saw the slightest hint of a smile. Almost as fleeting as it came though, it went just as fast, and I tried to keep the disappointment from my face as she awkwardly took her leave.