Chapter 50

I stared boringly at the woman that was currently staring at me from across the hall. I figured she had been locked up for at least ten years, judging by her looks.

Her facial features were sharp, almost masculine, while her shoulders were broad. She had about three scars on her face, the largest one running from her temple down to her jawline. Her body was covered in tattoos, ink running down her neck and big arms. For a normal person, she would've looked scary.

To me? She was just plain ugly and big.

You could easily tell she was the one who called the shots in the entire place. The typical criminal in charge you found in prison, beating the crap out of anyone who even dared to look at them. The cliché ruler who everyone must fear and not get in their way of if they didn't want to get squeezed like lemonade juice.

It was quite hilarious, actually. I could only see her as what she really was.

Ugly and big.

I was casually sitting on the filthy, rock-hard bed while leaning my back against the wall. It had been only three days since I was put inside this cell. It was boring, to say the least.

The entire place reeked of dead animals and dirt, which certainly weren't pleasant to the respiratory system. The toilet and sink on one corner of the cell wasn't exactly the most hygienic place. You could say I was almost afraid of a snake biting my bum while I was doing my business in that toilet. If only we could keep it all in.

My lips tugged downward in a frown as I noticed that the weirdo across from me was still staring openly at me. I was starting to ponder what was creepier: a wrinkly old man, or a manly lesbian.

"Would you like me to ask a guard to bring you a pencil and some paper for you to draw a picture of me and hang it on your wall?" I asked sarcastically while raising an eyebrow.

"Word says you're the little scum who took down an entire gang and handed them to the CIA on a silver platter," her deep voice spoke, ignoring my question. "How could a shrimp like you manage to do that?"

Shrimp?

"Well, first of all, Ronda Rousey, just because you're taller than me doesn't mean I'm a shrimp," I said with an eye roll. "Second of all, I can only say that I am plain genius."

The other woman smirked, running a hand through her quiff-styled, jet-black hair. I stood up from the bed and stood in front of the cell door, leaning my elbows lazily through the openings. The green uniform they made me wear was pretty uncomfortable and itchy in some places, even though it was kind of baggy. I couldn't say the same for her, though.

"That wouldn't be so hard to believe if I weren't the type of person that judged people by their looks," she said with a mindless shrug. "Yet again, I can easily tell that you've got a heavy backbone. Normally, the new ones wouldn't talk back to me like that."

"Just because I want to get out of here fast doesn't mean I'm going to let myself be swiped across the floor like some dirty rag." I scoffed. "I won't fall victim to anyone's taunts. That includes you, Mama Boss."

"I like you already." She laughed. "I'm pretty sure you will make my days even more interesting with that attitude of yours."

"Well, hold on tight, because I'm not a damn circus for your entertainment," I said, making her smirk. She then leaned forward against the bars, amusement filling her blue eyes as she stared at me mischievously. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity, wondering about what she was about to do or say.

Suddenly, her tongue flicked out and licked the cell bar while throwing me a wink. I couldn't hide the grimace and the disgust from my features as she took in my expression and doubled over, laughing. It seemed that apart from being ugly and big, she was also gross. Great.

I ignored her constant laughter and stepped away from the cell door, looking at her as if she had grown two heads.

Soon after, a guard walked in and rolled her eyes at the woman who wouldn't stop laughing. She then looked up to a camera and gave a nod, a buzzer being heard shortly after. My cell door opened after the noise stopped and the guard motioned for me to follow her with her head.

I furrowed my brows slightly as I stepped out of the cell, feeling how her hand wrapped securely around my arm. She led me away from the cells and stepped through the door that led out to a long corridor. We walked in silence, taking turns every now and then and passing many other guards.

After about a minute passed by, we stepped in front of a door, where she punched some numbers onto a small pad beside it. The little red light turned green and the guard opened the door quickly. I was pulled inside a long room that had about twenty desks and chairs, separated by some panels. Most of the desks were occupied by other inmates, and as we walked past them, I noticed they were speaking with another person—probably a friend or family.

The guard stopped in front of a desk with the number nine imprinted on the glass that separated this room from the other. A black string-phone laid on top of the plain desk and nothing more.

"Sit here until your visitors are brought in. You will have ten minutes only to speak to each of them," the guard spoke up and I nodded. She leaned against the wall behind me boringly with her arms crossed.

I wasn't expecting a visitor for at least a week. So I just sat there for about a minute or so, until someone appeared across from me. My eyes widened in obvious surprise as I stared at the man in front of me--a man that never crossed my mind at all, thanks to all the chaos.

He sat there on the chair opposite from me and penetrated my eyes with his deadly gaze. I squirmed a little uncomfortably in my chair as I eyed him.

He looked older than I remembered, and that's a pretty big deal, given the fact that people didn't age about ten years in the span of four months. His usually clean face was covered with a growing beard, his eyes looked lifeless and held dark circles under them. He leaned forward against the desk and picked up the phone at his side, and I took mine to my ear as well.

"So it was you after all, huh?" he asked in a low voice.

I furrowed my brows in confusion and curiosity, shaking my head slightly since I didn't know how to answer exactly. "Mr. Coach?" I asked him, my tone showing my clear confusion.

"You will address me as Charlie Crawford from now on." He sneered.

I was taken aback by the sudden venom lacing his voice. I was trying to find something in my brain, a hint or anything to answer the nagging questions in my brain.

Why was he here? How did he know I was here? Why was he glaring daggers at me?

"For the past month, I've been wondering who was responsible for my son's death. When I was told it was you, I couldn't believe it." He shook his head in disappointment. "That was until I heard you admit it out loud in that courtroom. How could you, Amelia? I knew he was in some trouble, but for you to ­kill my precious Tyler..."

That was when it dawned on me. I was at a loss for words. My eyes were wide with realization and disbelief, not knowing how to react. His words became a jumbled mess as I connected the pieces together.

How could that small detail fly over my head without me noticing?

"I took you under my wing. I was going to help you get a huge scholarship and help you clean your reputation because I saw extreme potential in you, and you deserved to get into a good college. Do you know how backstabbed I feel right now?" he seethed through the line. I still kept quiet, making him scoff and shake his head. "You deserved those twenty-five years."

With that, he furiously hung up the phone and stormed away, leaving me dumbfounded.

I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that Mr. Coach was Tyler's father. I mean, the only thing that they had in common was their dark eyes and height. Other than that, they weren't exactly alike. Which led me to believe that Tyler must have been more of his mother's replica, right?

Another person occupying the seat Mr. Coach had sat on dragged me out of my thoughts. Once my eyes landed on him, I didn't know whether I should feel nervous or relieved. He looked better than the last time I saw him. His eyes weren't as red and his face looked cleaner, the paleness no longer there. His hair was mostly hidden by a red beanie, but I could tell he still hasn't gotten a haircut.

I smiled at him through the glass, deciding to brush aside the image of the man that was once sitting there. He gave me a small smile back, his eyes sparkling slightly, which made me feel more at ease. I was still holding the phone to my ear unconsciously, and he raised an amused eyebrow at this then picked up the phone.

"Sorry, am I interrupting your conversation with Mr. Ghost here?" Chase mused, making me chuckle.

"Indeed, you are," I decided to play along. "We were having a quite pleasant conversation until you decided to rudely interrupt it."

"My apologies." He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, he can wait."

"And wait he shall," I smirked, then morphed it into a gentle smile. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I wasn't expecting to see you just yet," I admitted. "I thought you probably needed a little more time to wrap your head around things."

"I do, actually, but the fastest way for me to come to terms with all this is by facing the main problem of them all," he said and offered me a small smirk once I placed my hand over my chest in mock offense. I chuckled at this and nodded in understanding. Finding another topic to talk about wasn't hard, it actually came off rather naturally. He told me about how my mother entered a state of depression and Sophia was trying to convince her to see a psychologist.

I couldn't help but pity the woman. A psychologist was definitely the best option for her right now. Everything has fallen on her like a house of bricks, and I could tell it affected her more than she normally let on. Chase's soft voice drifted my mind away from the topic and made me look into his gentle eyes. I got lost in his brown orbs, the eye contact being enough to make me feel relaxed.

"About the other day, after the arraignment," I started, cautiously searching for the right words. "There is so much I need to tell you."

"Amelia..." Chase trailed off, his gaze becoming slightly troubled.

"Listen, Brownie," I continued, taking a deep breath. "You know that I'm not really a person to go around talking about my feelings, but I've got to admit that you have found a way to slither into my heart. All the time I had spent with you made me start having these special feelings towards you, and no matter how hard I try, there is just no way to deny them. I never thought I would find myself falling for an amazing guy like yourself."

I watched as he adjusted his glasses nervously, a light blush spreading over his cheeks. I smiled warmly at this, hoping that he never lost that small trait. It was just one of the many things I loved about him. His faint freckles and messy hair. His habit of tilting his head to the side like a lost puppy when he didn't understand something, or how he scratched the tip of his nose.

It was just the small things he did that made him a wonderful person.

"I really wish we could've found another way to unravel everything." He sighed. "Some other way that didn't end up with you being like this."

"It's only for three years, and there's something you better not forget even after those years," I said, and he looked at me with curious eyes and a slightly tilted head. I chuckled lightly at that, faintly hearing the guard in the background say that the time was up. Once I saw another guard walking up to Chase, I spoke up. "You still owe me a date." With that, I hung up the phone while offering him a smirk.

He looked caught off guard for a moment but didn't have much time to react as the guard placed a hand on his shoulder. I watched as the guard took him away, his eyes never leaving mine as he was led away. I felt the smallest of weights lifting off my shoulders, and all I could do was smile softly at the retreating boy.

It was the first time I didn't feel any type of dread when watching the boy I loved—and loved me back—being dragged away from me. I guess the only thing I could hope for was for his feelings to stay the same.

I guess I was going to have to wait three years to find out, then.

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[Edited: September 23rd, 2020 by michh_44]

This is it, guys. This is the official ending of my first book. Thanks to every single person that took their time to give this book a chance and supported it! You are all very special and you have no idea how amazing it feels to have strangers appreciate your work. I hope you all liked this book as much as I did, and do not worry! There is certainly a second book coming, so don't rip my head off just yet.

I'm a little emotional, honestly. Please leave a vote, and again, thank you very much for your support ♥ I can't express how thankful I am. Have a wonderful and amazing day xx