CHAPTER SIX
Roswell Corrections Facility
Shelby—
Jenny reads the dress code while I study the clothes I’ve laid out on the bed.
“Skirts or dresses with a slit higher than mid-thigh are not acceptable. Skirts or dresses that are more than three inches above the knee are not acceptable. Shorts, cut-offs, and beach-type shorts are not acceptable. Skintight clothing or spandex is not permitted. Undergarments must be worn, including brassieres, but must not be visible through outer clothing. Tank tops, spaghetti straps, tube tops, halter tops, or spandex pants are not acceptable, nor are any type of see-through clothing. Clothing must not expose cleavage, the midriff, shoulders, or any part of the breast or upper thigh.” She pauses to take a breath and looks at me. “They’re really serious about these rules, huh?”
“Yes, and if I get caught doing any of those things, they won’t let me in, and they could even take me off his visitor list. So, help me pick something.” I jam my hands on my hips and stare at the clothing spread across the bed. So many of my summer dresses expose either my shoulders or my cleavage or are too short. What I’m left with is a lot of day dresses I’ve worn to the bank.
She drops the paper and stands beside me, surveying my selections. She points. “That one. Definitely.”
“Are you sure?” My eyes travel over the dress. It’s a rather simple black dress with a modest V-neck, cap sleeves, a three-inch waistband, and a skirt that flares out with three tiers.
“Positive. You look amazing in it and not in an overtly sexual way.”
“Will he like it?”
“He’ll love it, and it fits all the rules. It’s not too short or too tight, and the neckline doesn’t go too low.”
“I don’t know…”
“Try it on.”
I pull off my shorts and t-shirt and slip it over my head, then move to the full-length mirror leaned against the wall. Jenny stands behind me.
“See. Look at how tiny it makes your waist seem, and it’s very feminine.”
The dress falls to mid-calf, and I have to admit, she’s right about the waistline. Plus, it’s an elastic band, so it won’t be too uncomfortable to travel in.
“Your only other option is that sheath dress, and that will be a wrinkled mess by the time we get there.”
She’s right about that, too.
“Can you wear heels?” She picks up the rules and scans them. “It just says no flip-flops, slippers, or steel-toed boots are allowed. Open-toed shoes are allowed for women. Sounds like you can. You should paint your toes and wear some pretty high-heeled sandals.”
My eyes light up. “I know just the pair.” I dash to my closet and find a pair of strappy black heels. Sitting on the bed, I slip them on and return to the mirror.
“Perfect,” Jenny says.
I meet her eyes in the mirror. “You’ll go with me, won’t you? I mean, at least drive me there?”
“Of course. You didn’t think I’d let you make that drive all alone, did you?”
Saturday—
Jenny brakes at the intersection out in the middle of nowhere, and we both stare at the sign that points to the right down a long dusty road.
Roswell Corrections Facility with an arrow.
She flips on her blinker, and we make a right.
“It sure is desolate out here, isn’t it?” I ask.
“I’m sure that’s by design. All this flat desert land makes it easier to catch any escapees. They’ve got nowhere to hide.”
“Thanks for doing this with me. You’re a good friend, Jenny Palmer.”
She holds her palm up. I give her a high-five and try to hide my nerves. I absolutely hate going into things not knowing where I’m going or what I’m doing, and in this situation, I’m a total newbie. It’s like the first day of high school, only this place is so much worse. My anxiety flares, and I bite my lip, wondering why I’m doing this. The flight instinct tries to take over, but I fight it.
I really do want to see him again.
I want to look into his eyes and see if I’ve been wrong about him. Is he the guy from Blitzy’s parking lot who threatened my father so badly the man is afraid of me now? Or is he the masked man from the bank who held a gun to Marybeth’s head?
Maybe he’s both.
Maybe this whole idea is crazy.
I look over at Jenny, and she turns and meets my eyes.
“I’m right here, kiddo.”
And then we’re pulling up to the guard gate, and it’s too late to turn around.
It takes forever to get through the security checks and get registered. Jenny stays in the waiting area, and I follow the line of other visitors and the guard leading us down a long hall. We’re taken to a room that looks much like a cafeteria with tables and vending machines against the wall. Everyone hurries to the vending machines, so I do the same. When it’s my turn, I stare at the selections. I have no clue what to get him.
“Hurry up,” someone says behind me.
I turn to see a young woman of Mexican descent holding a baby. When she registers the look on my face, her eyes soften.
“First time?”
I nod.
“Get him the beef jerky, some chips, and a cola.”
My body melts in relief. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I was you not too long ago.”
I hurry and make my selections, then sit at a table facing the door and wait. It seems like eons before a line of men is brought in. They stand in formation until they’re all through the door. I search the line for Dalton and find him. He’s searching the tables, looking for me as well.
The moment he finds me, our eyes lock, and I watch the smile climb his face.
Right then I know that no matter how much he objected, he really is happy I came.
The guards release them, and they hurry to their loved ones.
I see other people hugging, and I know that one kiss and hug are allowed upon greeting and again when saying goodbye, so I stand awkwardly as Dalton approaches.
His eyes sweep over me and heat. I guess he likes the dress.
Happiness flushes my cheeks, and we exchange our first ever hug. I wore a light perfume, and I hear him breathe it in, his face pressed to my hair. His body is all hard muscle. His big arms wrap around me, and I immediately sink into them, feeling safe, like I did that first night at Blitzy’s.
All too soon, he’s pulling away, as are other couples, and we sit across from each other.
“It’s good to see you, Shelby,” he says. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I’m glad you finally gave in.”
He huffs a laugh and folds his hands. “Yeah, well, you’re hard to resist. Happy birthday, by the way.”
“Thank you.” I slide the items I purchased toward him. “I got you these. I wasn’t sure what to choose.”
“These are perfect. Thanks.”
I pop the top on my own can of cola, and he does the same, guzzling half of his down, then tears into the jerky.
“I suppose the food in here sucks, huh?” I grin, watching him.
“You can say that again. How was the drive?”
“Long, like you said, but Jenny came with me, so we had fun.”
“I’m glad you didn’t travel alone.” His eyes sweep over my face, like he’s trying to commit every detail to memory. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
A tinkle of laughter escapes me. “You wasted an entire year.”
He gives me a sad smile and looks away. “I know.”
I shift and rub my hand over my thigh, not sure what to say.
His eyes swing back to me. “You look real pretty in that dress.”
“Thanks.” He’s wearing a prison uniform with a number over his chest, and it hits me that this is his life now. Sadness wraps tight around my heart. I can’t think of anything worse. “What do you do all day in here?” Maybe it’s an insensitive question, but I have to know.
He shrugs and pours the last of the crumbs from the chips bag into his mouth. “They’ve got classes we can take. I’m taking one on accounting. I’ve also just been approved for this dog training thing they do.”
“Oh really? I love dogs. Tell me about it.”
“They match up inmates with dogs from the local shelters and bring them out here for us to work with a couple times a week. I just got matched with mine. He’s a sweet brown and white pit bull mix puppy. His name’s Hurley.”
“What happens to Hurley after the training is over?”
“I guess they’ll find him a home. I wish I’d had a dog like him when I was a kid, but my father hated animals.”
“Maybe I could adopt him.” As soon as I say the words, the idea grows on me. It’d be like I had a piece of Dalton with me.
His head tilts. “Maybe you could. I’d like knowing you had a dog around to protect you. I think Hurley’s going to be a big dog, judging from the size of his paws.”
“Hurley.” I repeat the name. “What’s the shelter called?”
“Paws for Cause.”
“I’ll look it up.” I’m not sure Dalton believes I’m serious, but I am.
“Got any birthday plans?”
I shrug. “Just coming to see you. Jenny and I were talking about stopping in Cloudcroft on the way back. Maybe spend the night. It’s pretty up there.”
“You should do that. Have some fun.”
“What were you doing when you turned nineteen?”
He looks away. “Hell, I don’t remember.”
But I think he does. I think he just doesn’t want to tell me. So, I change the subject. “How’s your leg doing?”
“Good. The pain is mostly gone. It’s weak, but I’ve been doing the exercises they showed me. I think it’s helping it get stronger. It’ll just take time. Guess I’ve got plenty of that.”
The reminder hits us both. “Guess so.”
“Everything cool with your father still?”
“Yes. But I moved in with Jenny and her mom, so I rarely even see him anymore.”
“That’s good, huh?”
“Yes.” I look around at other tables and see couple holding hands. “Are we allowed to hold hands?”
“We are if you want.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. Then he strokes his finger down my palm.
“I remember when you wrote your number there.”
“Yeah.”
“I had your number, but I didn’t even know your name.”
He searches my eyes. “Now you know why.”
“Because of what you were planning to do?”
He nods. “You know I can’t talk about that in here, right?”
“Sure.” I glance over to the guards watching the room.
“I’m glad you’re all right, Shelby.”
My name sounds so sweet on his lips. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard his voice. “Are you allowed to make calls in here?” I know he is, and I’ve wondered why he hasn’t asked for my phone number.
He strokes his thumb over mine. “Look, Shelby, there’s something I have to say. Getting to hear your voice every week would be heaven. It’d be something I’d look forward to, just like I look forward to getting your letters.”
He pauses and stares at the table, and a lump of dread forms in my belly. “But?”
“But I don’t want you wasting your life trying to maintain this relationship with me when you should be seeing guys out in the world.”
“There are no good guys out there.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“You still work at the bank?”
“Yes.”
“They probably wouldn’t like hearing you came to visit the man who robbed the place. They may even begin to think you were in on it, that it was an inside job.”
My eyes widen. I hadn’t thought of that, but it doesn’t make me want to stop coming. I know what he’s doing. He’s throwing up walls. “Then I’ll get a new job.”
“Don’t you see what I’m trying to do here? I’m trying to keep you from throwing your life away on a guy like me. I’m not a good guy, Shelby.”
“You’re not all bad, either.”
“There are things you don’t know about me.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.” He glances over his shoulder at the guards. “Not in here.”
“Then how will I know?”
“You won’t. That’s the thing.” He squeezes my hand. “I don’t want you coming here again. Do you understand?”
I look into his eyes. He’s serious. “Don’t say that.”
“I mean it, honey. For real.”
He just called me honey in that sexy deep voice of his. I shake my head.
“Shelby.”
“When’s your birthday?” I ask suddenly, and he frowns, thrown by the change in topic.
“Why?”
“Just tell me. It’s not like I can’t find out. Your arrest info is probably public knowledge.”
“August 29 th .”
“Fine, if you don’t want me to visit all the time, I get that. But I’m visiting you on your birthday.”
He blows out a breath and actually looks relieved. He does want me to come, no matter how much he claims otherwise.
“Just on my birthday.”
“And Christmas.”
“And Christmas.”
The whistle blows, and all too soon, our time is over.
The inmates stand and hug their loved ones goodbye. My heart pounds. I don’t want our time together to be over. Dalton rises to his feet.
“Gotta go, sweetheart.”
I spring up and hug him tight, burying my head against his chest, holding on like I’ll never let him go.
“Hey,” he whispers against my head. “I’m glad you came.”
I nod, suddenly too choked up to speak.
The whistle blows again, and he pulls back, but tips my chin and presses his lips to mine. It’s our first kiss, and as brief as it is, it leaves a lasting impression on me. I know I’ll never forget it. When he pulls away, there’s heat in his green eyes. Then he presses his forehead to mine.
“Goodbye, Shelby.”
All too soon, he’s walking away from me, his broad shoulders rolling with his easy gait.
I stay standing, and when he gets to the lineup, his gaze sweeps over me one last time before they’re led out.
I drop to the bench seat; my heart pounds and my fingertips raise to my lips. He kissed me. He really kissed me. I can still feel the sensation of his lips on mine.