Page 9 of In Death, Love Survives

Wolfe studies me as I debate what to do.

I know that it breaks a dozen rules to do this. I could very well be setting myself up for failure against Wolfe. He could say a dozen things that could get me in trouble for not recording.

He leans forward toward the table. Our faces are close, but there’s still a distance.

“Come on, dollface. Live a little for me, would you?”

Slowly, I sit back upright with my finger on the button. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as I do.

My thumb grazes the button, but I don’t press it in. If this is how I get Wolfe to trust me, then for some reason, I’ll take it.

“I’m ready to listen,” I whisper.

I sit upright with my pen in hand and cross one leg over the other.

“I sent my friend Caleb to check on you Friday.”

“I know.”

He quirks up an eyebrow in amusement.

“We talked.”

Wolfe grins as he takes that news in.

“You didn’t know that,” I guess.

“Not yet. I’ll talk to him soon.”

“He didn’t visit you this weekend?”

“Caleb’s needed elsewhere while I’m in here.”

A long pause. He shared more about Caleb than he needed to.

“I don’t have many friends,” I admit.

A truth for a truth.

“Why is that?” he asks.

“A complicated past. I can’t trust people.”

Wolfe’s eyes widen slightly at my admission.

“Well, dollface, people are fucking hard to trust, so I get that.”

“One day, I hope that changes for me.”

Wolfe crosses his arms against his chest as he eyes me up and down.

“I hope that for you too.”

I glance at the recorder and back at him. He clears his throat, knowing that this opportunity together, unrecorded, may be a fluke.

“A leader takes responsibility when something goes wrong. That’s what I did.”

“You took the fall.”

He scoffs as he uncrosses his arms.

“I was there, so it was for the best.”

“I don’t think you killed the victim.”

“No, but baby, I know who did.”

“Was he bad?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah, doll. Just as bad as I am.”

“You’re dangerous,” I whisper.

It’s a confession of the truth that we both know is real. He may not have killed the person, but he was the one leading the charge behind whatever led to that point in time.

“And you’re addicting,” he whispers back.

The danger oozing off Wolfe is intoxicating… almost unbearable to be around. As it swirls around the room, all I can do is revel in the smoky, leather scent that makes up Wolfe Walker as he admits his truths.

“Caleb is my number two. You can trust him. If you need anything.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Wolfe. I don’t need any help.”

“Now who’s the liar?”

I hadn’t realized it was happening, but our faces had been inching forward, closely across from one another.

“Wolfe. I can be here for you. As your doctor. That’s it. You know that, right?”

I feel crazed by being in his presence.

The words taste like venom slipping off my tongue, even though I don’t want to keep up the ruse between us. I can’t let this slip into even more inappropriate territory than it already has been inching toward.

“I know that I’ve never wanted to open up before like I do with you. Can’t we start from there?”

“As your doctor.”

“Whatever you say, dollface.”

“Doctor. Not dollface.”

“Doctor Dollface,” he rasps.

I smile as I pull back out of the lavender haze I was just under.

“I’ll take it.”

He sits back, folds his hands in his lap, and grins at me. Wolfe knows he just won a small victory. I’m his prey for the taking, and only I can prevent myself from falling under his spell.

The door alarm sounds, and Officer Johnson comes into the room.

“Time’s up,” he says.

“Officer Johnson?”

He looks at me, unhappy to have to deal with my questions.

“Yeah, Dr. Fletcher?”

“Officer Johnson, only I, the doctor, can say when a session is done. Please step out, and I will ring the buzzer when it’s time.”

He grunts as he steps back out, leaving Wolfe and me alone once more.

“I like a woman in charge,” Wolfe taunts.

“A doctor in charge,” I correct.

“So it seems.”

“If you would like to do this seriously, I can put you on the schedule for Wednesday.”

“Not tomorrow?”

“Not at this notice. Unless it’s life or death, then I’m afraid not.”

“Life or death.” He hums.

“Yes.”

“It always comes down to the two.”

I consider his statement, which undoubtedly has more meaning than I’m getting right now.

“I suppose so.”

“Then Wednesday will have to do. I’ll suffer in silence.”

“Suffer in silence?”

“I don’t know if I want to go a day without seeing you.”

This should be concerning, but it isn’t. I’m not sure why I trust Wolfe out of all the people I’ve met in my lifetime, yet I do.

I debate how I can see Wolfe when I remember a way.

“There’s a group session tomorrow. You’re never required to speak in it.”

“Aren’t you too busy for those?”

“No, I like doing them when I can. I can do tomorrow’s… since it’ll be your first time.”

Wolfe laughs darkly as he stands and steps to the side.

“My first fucking time. I like that.”

Slowly, he walks a few steps and stands before me. Looking up at him, I feel like I’m his for the taking.

He starts to reach forward toward my mouth but pauses. I track as his eyes go from my lips up to the camera in the room.

“Ring the buzzer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Without another word, I ring the buzzer, and Wolfe heads for the door.

Officer Johnson looks annoyed as he opens it and takes Wolfe away from the office. For the first time, I feel a sense of loss from not being around someone.

Soon enough, I’ll have to start unpacking these feelings of my own and stop worrying about Wolfe Walker.

“Dr. Fletcher, what are you doing at group today?” Tim asks.

I pop up from studying the notes from the last group share to see what was covered.

These group sessions are great for individuals for different reasons than the one-on-ones can be.

Sometimes, it is nice to know you aren’t alone and people are going through similar experiences or having the same feelings, even if you’re in prison.

“I’m leading it today,” I answer.

“No, I’m on the schedule to lead.” Tim lets out a loud groan as he glances at his wristwatch.

“Jessica was meant to update the schedule. I have this one covered.”

“There’s another transfer coming in.”

“That’s not until this afternoon.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes. I’m positive. I won’t be able to do much like this soon if Crawley finally approves the budget for more staff. I’ll have to conduct interviews and all that. Figured I’ll do it for the team while I can.”

Tim nods as he realizes that means he’ll be taking on more group and one-on-one therapy sessions in my absence.

“Fine by me then,” he says.

He walks away without another word, and I laugh as he goes.

How very Tim of him to be acting.

Tim never likes leading the group sessions and says the prisoners never talk about anything worthwhile during them, and I disagree.

They may not open up as much, but just talking about happy memories, at the very least, seems to invigorate them before they head back to the blocks. If I can give one person solace today about moving in the right direction, I’ll take it.

With Tim gone, I resume going through the paperwork. It’s a needed distraction from wondering if Wolfe is going to show today as planned.

After he left the therapy office yesterday, I snapped back to reality. I’m not about to diagnose myself with this situation. It’s a slippery slope that I’m all too familiar with.

What I realized when he left was how charming and intoxicating his presence is. It’s no wonder he’s the leader of the MC. Anyone would willingly do what he asked just from mere moments in his orbit.

It’s a good thing I realized it so soon so I can keep my professional distance.

The sound of shuffling distracts me, and I realize the officers are bringing in the group of patients who will be attending today.

One by one, I recognize each of them—the usual ones who come to get a break from their day-to-day.

“Morning, Doc,” a prisoner they call Rim hollers.

“Morning, Rim. How are you today?”

“A seven,” he answers.

“A seven is so close to where you could be. Let’s chat about that today?”

“Sounds good, Doc,” he says as he settles into his chair.

“Hi, Dr. Fletcher,” another prisoner, Toby, says.

“Toby. Pleasant surprise to see you back here.”

“Is this okay?” he asks as he hesitates to sit down.

An officer starts to step forward.

“Of course it is. Please take a seat.”

“I figured I need to get back at it.”

“That’s what I like to hear. After this, we can discuss if you’d like to start any individual sessions back up,” I say with a warm smile.

“Thanks, Dr. Fletcher.”

As the few remaining prisoners enter, my heart sinks as I scan the room for Wolfe.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I start.

An officer opens the door wide, and in comes Wolfe with Officer Walls.

My eyebrows furrow together in suspicion. Why is Walls bringing Wolfe in separately like this?

Wolfe’s eyes are fixed on mine as Walls focuses on Wolfe’s back.

“Mr. Walker. A pleasure to have you join us for your first group today.”

“Thank you for having me,” he answers gruffly.

“All good, Walls?” I ask, turning my attention to him.

“I’ll see you after,” he replies.

“Okay…”

I’m familiar enough with Walls to know that something must be wrong with Wolfe.

“Please take a seat,” I say to Wolfe.

He sits down, with his familiar domineering stature of widespread legs and broad frame taking up more space than he needs.

As he settles in, I observe the dynamic shift from Wolfe’s presence. Clearly, Toby has some connection to him, as he looks the most comfortable nearby. The seat on the opposite side of Wolfe remains empty.

Huh.

Although, I suppose it isn’t that strange for everyone to know about his role and affiliations outside of Roper State.

Maybe Wolfe has already taken a leadership role within the prison. These fellow prisoners aren’t afraid of him; they’re respectful. Even the few I see with slightly elevated nerves seem to be acting this way.

“Thank you all for being brave enough to show up for yourself today,” I start.

I scan the room as each person gives me a nod of some kind in acknowledgment. I cross my legs, letting the wide leg of my pants spread slightly at the ankles and my jet-black heels show.

“I thought we’d start today as usual, and anyone who would like to share how they are feeling today can take the floor.”

I smile around the room, and my eyes catch on a tense Wolfe. His jaw is tight, and dare I say, his eyes seem like they’ve darkened from moments ago.

“Anyone?” I ask.

I can’t focus solely on Wolfe in this setting, despite the pull I feel just by being around him once again.

“I’ll go,” Rim says with a slight wave of a hand.

“Rim. Thank you.”

He runs his hands along the length of his pant legs and lets out a long breath.

“I’m a seven today. Next week is my first time up for parole, and I’m anxious.”

“Please continue,” I say.

“I know the odds of me getting out the first time are slim, but fuck if I don’t want it. I’ve served twenty years in here. It’s my time.”

“I’m up next week too, man,” another prisoner, Jack, says.

“It’s fucking terrible. Sorry, Doc,” Rim says.

“It’s okay. Please continue.”

“Yesterday, I was a four. Today, I’m a seven. I have a feeling I’ll be going all over the scale until it happens, and I learn my fate one way or another.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jack adds.

Jack and Rim both continue to share how they’re feeling, with a few other patients chiming in with their experiences.

One by one, almost every prisoner, except for Toby and Wolfe, shares how they are doing. First, by sharing their scale number of the day, a system I implemented to get people to start talking at all, and then as little or as much as they would like to.

“Thank you all for sharing today. Please remember that in here, we’re all here for one another. Take this mentality with you as you continue outside this room. And I’ll be following up with some of you individually to discuss one-on-one sessions based upon today.”

“Thank you,” they say in variations.

Walls and another officer come into the room and start to take them back into the open population areas. It’s a little before eleven, which means everyone is still congregating before yard time.

Wolfe doesn’t look at me as he leaves at the end of the line.

The door shuts behind him, and I’m alone once again.

Another time when I wish I weren’t.