Point of View: Narrator
Nick clutched Eric's letter in his hand as he stood in line, waiting to mail it. He glanced around nervously, not used to being alone in the common area where the guys who didn't reside in locked rooms were allowed to wander freely about. He'd only spent fleeting moments with Eric here...
"Next."
Nick stepped up and slid the folded sheet under the little window. "There was an inmate that was recently transferred, his name is Eric. I want to send that to him at his new jail, please," Nick said.
The woman sighed, "We'll do what we can," she said, waving Nick away. Nick frowned, but he stepped away as she called out, "Next."
He was on his way back to his room when it happened.
Tattoo grabbed him by the back of his scrubs and shoved him into a random office on the side of the corridor that was unlocked. Nick, caught off guard, stumbled and fell across the desk, hitting his nose on the top, and his arm knocking over a potted plant, which crashed on the floor. The shards of pot skidding across the tile and the soil landing in a sad heap.
Tattoo slammed the door behind them.
Nick started to stand up, rubbing his nose, when Tattoo pushed him back down harshly, and Nick doubled over as the edge of the desk jabbed into his gut. Tattoo was suddenly directly behind him their bodies touching too tightly...
Nick's eyes widened as he realized the intentions of this encounter as Tattoo's hands ran across his lower back, and started tugging at his waist band...
Nick moved quickly, whipping himself over and rolling off the side of the desk. He fell to the floor, his head hitting the leather desk chair, which rolled away. His back smarted, especially around his wounds, when he hit the tile, but it was better than staying in that position against the desk.
Tattoo turned toward Nick, his face amused. "What's the matter?" he laughed as he hovered over Nick, eyes mocking.
Nick scrambled to his hands and knees and started to crawl away around the length of the desk. Tattoo reached for him and he felt the guy's hand grip the very bottom of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. He struggled to his feet, and Tattoo pulled, the pants sliding down and Nick tripped again, this time over them as they tangled his legs up. He was painfully aware of his boxer-briefs clinging tightly to his body as he fell and landed on his ass, legs splayed out as far as they could with the scrubs around his ankles. He was sitting up.
He lobster crawled backwards as Tattoo continued advancing, and scrambled to his feet when he got a couple yards away from the bully, pulling up the pants and pulling the drawstring tighter around his waist.
Nick could feel sweat pouring down his back like a waterfall. He moved quickly along the perimeter of the room, his back against the wall, eyes focused on Tattoo, his heart pounding.
Tattoo suddenly moved forward and pegged Nick against the wall. Nick went to punch him, but Tattoo caught his hand and Nick was shocked by the intensity of the strength that gripped him. He was fighting a losing battle, he suddenly realized.
There were footsteps in the hall.
Nick looked at Tattoo, "HEY!" he screamed, "HEY!!!!"
"Shut the fuck up," Tattoo hissed.
Nick kicked at Tattoo's ankle, catching him square in the bone with the toe of his sneaker. Tattoo stumbled. In the moment of weakened stance, Nick shoved him away - hard - and bolted for the door. He yanked it open just as a warden was going by. Tattoo came barreling out behind him, wrapping his arms around Nick's neck and squeezing. "You mother fucking..." he was yelling. Nick fell backwards with the weight of Tattoo hanging off his back, and both men hit the floor in a pile of seafoam scrubs.
The warden grabbed at them, pulling them apart and radioed for help out separating the two guys.
An hour later, Nick was in his room, back against the far wall, staring at the door, his pillow hugged to his chest. The thought had occurred to him during that hour what had almost happened to him had probably happened to Eric. Probably many times. Nick clung to the pillow, feeling sick. He thought of Kayla with Leon, too, his heart breaking. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to shower. He felt gross and nothing had even happened or come close to happening, other than when their bodies had pressed so tightly when he'd been doubled over the desk. But that was enough.
A couple quick raps on the door, and the warden that had separated Nick from Tattoo came in the room. He studied Nick in silence for a moment, then he said, "You have visitors."
"Visitors?" Nick asked, his voice surprised. He'd thought for sure when the same warden came in that he was in deep shit. He wasn't sure what happened to people who got in trouble in prison, but he didn't want to find out, either.
"Come with me."
Brian, Kayla and Zoe were sitting in the tiny little room in plastic folding chairs, a table in front of them. Zoe was staring around, noticing the dreariness of the room - the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling, the drab shade of gray that the walls were painted... Brian was wringing his hands, staring at his knees... Kayla stared at the door, her eyes wide, her knees tense, her hands clutching the envelope and the letter still.
When the knob shifted and the door opened and Nick stepped into the room, all three of their head snapped to look at him, and Kayla let out a shrill scream as she leaped to her feet and ran to him.
Nick's eyes widened.
Kayla threw her arms around him, leaping up and wrapping her legs around his waist, too, and her mouth pressed against his cheek and neck over and over again. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her body tight to his, suspending her and clutching her. "Oh Jesus, Kayla," he whispered, shaking, "I missed you."
Zoe felt tears burning her eyes. Brian pushed a packet of Kleenex into her hands and smiled warmly.
"Nick," Kayla sobbed, "I love you. I love you so much, I love you Nick."
He could feel her body trembling against his. He didn't want to let her go. Finally, he had to, and he lowered her down to the floor carefully. She clung to his shirt, her fingers clutching the fabric, as though holding onto it might keep him from disappearing.
Brian and Zoe took their turns receiving hugs and telling him how much they'd missed him. When Nick settled into a seat, Kayla yanked a chair up beside him and sat, next to him, pressing herself into him, her head rested against his chest, his arm pulled around her.
She felt whole for the first time in a long time.
