Page 7

“Alright, do you know why you’re here?” he asks, and my patience, and my bladder’s screaming, breaks.

“I do, kind of. Is there any chance I can use the restroom before we continue this? I was cuffed to a hook in a waiting room before my drive here, so while I promise I’m housebroken, we’re going to have a situation if I don’t get to use it,” I tell him earnestly.

His mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape as he realizes what I mean.

“Shit… I mean, yeah. I can’t believe no one thought of that,” Isaac complains, getting up. “Don’t think I won’t have questions about the handcuffs, though.”

Shrugging, I follow. “They’re already taken care of, so I’m not sure why it’s an issue,” I tell him. I’m really not pushing an attitude at him, it’s the truth. Explaining what happened won’t change anything.

Isaac grunts, pushing open the partition to take me to the restroom.

“Done already? Or did you decide she’s too high maintenance?” Grayson asks. He looks as if he was leaving the intake room, and a part of me wishes he would.

“I think you’ve forgotten one of the basic human common courtesies, Warden,” Isaac says as he passes him. Grayson merely raises his eyebrow, confused. “A bathroom! You need some sleep, Sir. Catch a nap or something.”

Grayson’s eyes widen, and he turns to me, but if I stop I’m going to lose the battle with my bladder. Isaac walks me to a door that states it’s a restroom, and with a whispered, “Thank you,” I walk in.

Whimpering as I run into a stall, I sigh happily as I yank up my skirt and push down my panties so I can sit. Dropping my head back as I relieve my bladder, I thank the gods that I didn’t have a very embarrassing accident. Or was told to piss in a bucket.

I have a very overactive imagination apparently.

Cleaning up quickly and adjusting my clothing, I flush the toilet. Opening the door, I walk out carefully, because in my excitement to reach the bathroom I stopped paying attention to my surroundings. Thankfully, no one is in here, so I wash my hands and leave after drying them.

Isaac is leaning against the wall waiting for me. “You were fast,” he chuckles. “I think the Warden is beating himself up a bit. He slammed out of here after you went into the restroom. Maybe steer clear of him for a bit. I don’t know what you did to rile him up, but it may be safer to give him some time while you acclimate here. The man is usually really fair, so I don’t know what’s with him.”

I want to tell him I didn’t do anything except exist, but it won’t make a difference, so I simply shrug instead.

“Let’s get this assessment finished so we can get you into a room as soon as possible. You may even be able to catch a shower and a nap, Silla,” Isaac says.

I really like my name on his lips, so I incline my head with a smile. I tend to confuse the men around me, because I’m not a big talker. As we return to his cubicle, I think about the many times I’ve managed to word vomit the wrong thing.

Silence is safer right now.

Once back, he asks a few more questions, and then sets a laptop in front of me.

“This device is set up so it’ll only work for the assessment, so you can’t toggle outside of it. I’m going to set the alarm for an hour, and we’ll see where you are at the end of this,” Isaac explains.

“Okay,” I murmur, my eyes already on the screen. Placing my wrists on the table, I frown as I realize that they’re going to burn for most of the assessment. This’ll be fun. Even lifting my wrists so they’re not on the desk, pulls at the skin from where it’s split.

“Something wrong?” Isaac asks.

“No. My wrists are going to give me a little trouble, but I’ll manage,” I explain.

As he makes a sound, I risk glancing up. “You’re seriously a pain in the ass,” he mutters. “You won’t talk about yourself, and then you say something like that. One hour, here’s your time on the clock next to you. I’ll be outside, but I’m unable to help you.”

With that, he slams out of the cubicle, shutting me in. I almost wish he’d left the door open, but I’ve managed to irritate even the nicest of people. I know it’s because I didn’t want to talk about my wrists, but really there’s nothing he could do about it now.

Going through the assessment, I begin to get into a rhythm of answering questions while still watching my time. A lot of these seem to be word problems or scenarios, and then about half way through it becomes coding. My fingers fly, and I forget the pain in my wrists. As the alarm goes off, I hit the final keystroke, lifting my hands away from the computer.

Isaac walks in, leaning over me as he checks to see where I am. “Woah, you actually finished?” he asks in astonishment, and I roll my lips inwards to hold myself back from responding.

My lack of words manage to annoy him more, so why fuck up a good thing, right? It’s kind of fun confusing this adorable nerd.

Isaac moves to his computer, entering his password to pull up my responses.

“I saw you were indicted for counts of hacking, but I didn’t think you were this good,” he says under his breath. We have a lot in common in the ways we think, except I keep most of my thoughts locked inside. “How did you get pinched anyway?”

“I have no idea,” I answer, his head whipping over to me. “I really don’t. I was pulled out of bed at two in the morning two days ago, booked into the police station, and then had my court hearing last night. The judge didn’t really care that some of the charges weren’t right.”