Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Jackson

Ayen .

What a pretty name. It was fitting for someone who looked and acted like him.

I ran my gaze over him, taking in his curious expression as he wandered around my cabin. One of his hands gripped at his wrist, rubbing over the red ring that had been left from the too-tight cuffs.

I'd somehow managed to convince his CO to take them off before bringing him to my cabin after I'd gotten the medic station opened up—another thing that I was surprised they went along with. I had a good track record with them, though, and technically, this was my program. So my rules typically superseded whatever they had bickered about amongst themselves.

SAC got a good tax write off by working with my program—inmate rehabilitation was all the rage and made for good bragging rights when it came time for the Warden to be schmoozing it up with the governor about how well their programs were running and raking in the grant money when the fiscal new year rolled around.

Mine had one of the better success rates, so pissing me off and cutting SAC loose would be detrimental.

Which was probably why I got my way tonight.

"You can take the bed." I nodded to the door that was closed just down the hallway. "I'm fine with the couch."

Ayen whipped around with wide eyes. "I can't take your bed . I thought you had a spare?"

"I lied." I grinned. "I promise, I don't have cooties."

His cheeks visibly flushed a cute light pink in the soft lighting of my cabin.

It was a nice place, with a full sized bedroom, kitchen, living room, and small dining room. There was a reason I didn't mind staying here during the entire program. Compared to pretty much everyone else on the property, I was living it large.

"I—that's..." he stuttered. "That's not what I meant."

I walked over to him slowly, my dick stirring as I watched him track my movements. I hated seeing him so afraid back in his cabin while that fight was happening. Thankfully, by the time we'd come gotten here, he'd perked up a bit. I never wanted to see him like that again; not on my watch at least.

How bad had prison been for him to have that kind of reaction?

I didn't want to think about it—if I did, it was only going to make me mad.

Instead, I grabbed his wrist and pulled it from where he'd been stroking it with his hand. I ran my thumb lightly over the irritated skin, the ridges of where the cuff had been digging into him instantly annoying me.

The COs that came in here with their aggression barely in check were always the ones that pissed me off the most. Not because they were particularly more of an asshole than the rest, but because they took all those pent-up feelings out on the inmates who were only trying to learn, and hopefully, make something of themselves when they finally got out.

"I think I'm going to have to wrap you up in bubble wrap from now on," I murmured.

He huffed out a laugh. "I don't think that's the take-away from all of this."

"Let me at least put some ointment on this. Should heal you right up." I couldn't help the need to care for him. It was a burning desire that was blooming in my chest and only seemed to get worse the longer I stayed in his presence.

Touching him in any capacity was beginning to become addicting—so much so that I was trying to make up any little excuse to justify myself.

"No, it's okay." He stayed rooted to his spot, even as I tugged at him to follow me to the bathroom. "You've done enough as it is."

"Are you sure?" I didn't want him to say yes. I wanted him to let me take care of him.

But, of course, he merely shook his head and slipped his wrist out of my grip.

I wanted to argue but he'd already been involved in enough tonight. My pressing him to do what I wanted him to do was only going to create a weird dynamic between us that I didn't want to happen. I already had him out of his element and in my space. There was no sense in pushing his boundaries while I was trying to make him feel more comfortable.

"You want water or anything?" I stepped away from him and headed into the kitchen. I flexed my fingers together at my sides while I mourned the loss of having them wrapped around him in some capacity.

Right now, I was really starting to regret not taking that cute blond home and fucking his brains out because this was getting to be ridiculous.

How was it that an inmate that I hardly knew could render me into such a goddamn needy mess?

I heard him follow me by the sound of the old and worn floorboards creaking slightly under his feet. "I'm okay."

Even with his refusal, he still was seeking out my company. That had me smiling a little bit to myself.

Jesus, I needed to get it together.

Turning back around, I fixed him with a look over my fridge door as I pulled it open. "Not even if it's ice cold?"

He let out another soft laugh—a delightful sound. "Is this you not taking no for an answer?"

Yes.

"Well, only when it comes to hydration." I slipped a bottle out from the top shelf and handed it to him. "I never play about that."

He uncapped it and took a generous swig. My coat looked massive still hanging off his shoulders and dwarfing his already petite frame. But somehow, it looked good on him.

Really good.

Right, even.

It had me thinking about putting him to bed in one of my t-shirts next.

My stomach clenched at the thought, possessiveness rearing its ugly head once more.

I wanted to keep him here permanently but there was no way the COs were going to allow that. Chances were that as soon as the sun was up, a bus would be rolling by to pick all four of them up and ship them back off to SAC for poor conduct.

It hurt my heart to think that Ayen would be caught up in all of that when it was obvious to anyone with two fucking eyes that the poor kid was way too scared to even be involved in any of that drama. Maybe he had been fucking with the cards initially, but I highly doubted he instigated that fight or was ever involved in it in any capacity.

I couldn't see him as the type.

Especially with how I'd found him curled up in himself while he shook through his panic attack.

Fuck, seeing him like that had really upset me. More than I cared to admit. He wasn't supposed to be scared here, none of the inmates were. So walking into that and seeing him shielding himself like he was ready for someone to start wailing on him had me tearing through that damn cabin in order to get to him.

Getting him out of there had been my only priority. Getting him to safety—to me— was the single thought that had been rattling through my brain.

Ayen capped the half finished bottle again and stared at it for a long moment while I leaned against the door of my fridge, watching him. The cool air from it felt nice against my skin even though it wasn't that humid out tonight.

"Why... are you doing all of this?" He glanced up at me. "I... You defended me to Stinner..."

I shrugged. "He was being an ass."

Which was true, in a sense. That CO coming out of the cabin hot and ready to pick a fight had my protective instincts flaring instantly. There was no way I was going to let Ayen go with him when he was already scared. Turning him over to a CO like that would keep me up all fucking night worrying about him.

Ayen frowned at me. "But he's the CO… it doesn't really matter what his attitude is like. Aren't you supposed to… Uh—" He cut himself off, his lips pressing together tightly.

"‘Listen to him?" I guessed. "Not at all. He's in my neck of the woods."

"You own this place?" His eyes widened in curiosity.

Damn was he cute.

I fisted my hands together, pretending they were holding onto him.

"Kind of. I run the program and have been for a decade." I lifted away from the fridge door and let it swing shut.

His eyes widened more. "Wow, that's amazing."

"Thanks. It's been quite the wild ride."

"I bet tonight has added to that list..."

I shrugged. "They weren't the first to fight on the property and they won't be the last. Sometimes it happens when you give someone a little too much freedom too soon."

He nodded slowly, looking back down at his water bottle with a concentrated look on his face. I wondered what my words meant to him.

Did he relate?

Was he the type of person to not know what to do with the freedom given to him?

Clearly his trouble with the law had been something like that—as all criminals were.

Freedom was what you made of it. It could give you everything and it could take away everything. It all depended on your choice with what to do with it.

To be honest, since meeting him, I'd been insanely curious as to what his charges were. As a non-violent offender, they weren't anything heinous like sex crimes or murder. But I couldn't see Ayen being a drug runner or something like that—he was too sweet, too soft around the edges that people in the drug business didn't have.

Whatever it was, I wanted to know. Not even just for my own curiosity's sake but to better understand him, too.

What had caused him to lose his freedom in the first place and what was he willing to do to get it back?

This program was the first step.

What would be his next?

Ayen's voice was quiet as he said, "Thank you."

I smiled. "You're welcome."

"You never answered my question, though." His eyes met mine again. "Why are you doing all of this?"

"Why can't I?" I challenged.

His brows pulled together. "What do you get out of it? I can't really give you anything."

A dark part of me whispered that there were plenty of things he could give me but I quickly clamped that down.

I wasn't interested in coercing him into bending over and letting me touch every inch of him. He was my unattainable grail.

"Look, I may not know you or anything, Ayen, but I can tell the type of person you are. My gut says you would never intentionally hurt someone."

For some reason, a sad look passed over his face and his gaze dropped down to the floor where he stared at his feet. The silence between us was both startling and strange, and had me wanting to ask him what happened before I bit my tongue and stopped myself from doing so.

Whatever it was, it was probably none of my business. He didn't owe me anything, even if I had gone out of my way tonight to protect him. If he wanted to tell me in his own time, then he was free to do so. I'd never push anything.

I'd done that out of my own selfish need to keep him safe and nothing more.

"Why don't you go rest up for the night," I said to break up the tension. "Seems like tonight's already been long enough."

"But, the bed..."

I cut him off by grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around. He didn't fight me at all when I led him through my cabin and down the hallway to my bedroom.

"I'll survive for one night," I said, and opened the door for him. "Get some sleep."

He looked like he wanted to argue with me but soon thought better of it at the last moment. A small sigh escaped him when he finally relented.

"All right... Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Of course." I smiled and stepped back.

I itched to touch him again—to run my fingers through his hair or cup his face and press a goodnight kiss to his forehead before he headed off to bed. Anything that would bring him closer to me so that I could feel his body heat soaking through my thin t-shirt.

I forced myself to hold my smile. "I'm going to have to keep the door open, though. Just in case one of your COs decides to pop in and do a check."

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

"All right..." I backed away slowly down the hall. "Holler if you need anything."

"I will. Thank you."

I flopped down on my couch and let my elbows rest on my knees as I watched the shadows of his figure dance in the light spilling out into the hallway from my overhead light. I laced my fingers together in a tight hold, squeezing them together while I kept my inappropriate thoughts to myself.

What I wouldn't give to join Ayen in that bed right about now. Cuddle up behind him and pull him against my chest and see how well his body fit against mine.

Would we be tangled up awkwardly or would he scoot back enough to let me perfectly curl around him?

Ah, fuck.

I need to stop this train of thought before it got out of hand. Or rather, before I needed to put my dick in my hand. Because masturbating while in full sight of Ayen if he glanced out the bedroom door was not going to happen.

I sighed. For now, I'd just have to settle myself with the fact that he'd be tucked between my sheets and hopefully, getting his scent all over them—mixing with mine.

Tomorrow, I'd let my fantasies run wild.

Tonight, I'd get some shuteye and deal with what judgment came in the morning.