Vincent
Vincent
Iowa State penitentiary for sexual offenders, 10:00 am
I stared across the table at my interviewer, starred intensely. Right away I noticed many things. The hair she’d probably spent hours to make it just right was askew. Her lipstick was smudged, not enough to notice, but I noticed. I always notice. My eyes moved down to her chest. Three buttons on her white blouse were buttoned in the wrong spots as if she had to hurry to re-button them. My eyes moved farther down to her skirt, that she most likely ironed herself, was wrinkled. I flicked my eyes to her neck. Fresh red marks stood out on her dark skin. My eyes moved to her hands. Flakes of skin were under her perfectly manicured nails on her right hand. She absentmindedly rubbed her left wrist. It had a red Imprint on it. Her wedding ring sparkled under the lights. I smiled widely and inhaled deeply. A musky smell filled my nostrils---What was it?
The door opened and closed. My smile vanished and was replaced by a scowl as Jarod, my ex-business partner, ex-best friend, and now warden walked in. He had only been appointed a year ago, and it quickly became apparent he would not be like his predecessor. He left his job in the FBI to become warden at my prison, to monitor me and make my life hell. Within a few months, I was thrown in the hole. He swears I will be in there until I die.
Jarod walked over to my interviewer and placed his hand on her shoulder. My scowl slowly turned to a grin as I watched their little exchange. Jarod bending down to whisper in her ear may have seemed like an innocent action, but I saw more much more. The soft smile that came over her lips and sharp nod. I saw the slight squeeze of her shoulder. The way one of his fingers ever so slightly ran over one of the red marks on her neck. Her shudder at the touch. The look of lust in their eyes when they met. The dried blood on his neck. I took another deep breath, smelling the air. That was it. The smell. Sex. Jarod looked over at me. He saw the look I was giving them. He quickly straightened up and pointed a finger at me. “I’m warning you, Vincent, you try anything and these interviews will not continue.” he turned and left the room. My interviewer finally turned her attention to me. The soft smile she had on quickly vanished as her eyes filled with fear.
I imagined how I must look to her. My smile was crazed, and my eyes showed the lust I felt. She gnawed on her bottom lip and fidgeted in her chair. I felt myself grow hard, just thinking of the things I could do to her.. I leaned forward as far as the chains would allow. My interviewer pushed her chair back, her face blanching. The four guards that were in the room with us all took a step forward, hands automatically going to their guns.
“You are a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” I asked her.
“W... What? I’m... I’m not a whore.” she choked out.
“Oh yes, I can tell. You like it rough. Naughty girl. Are you like that with your husband or just with Jarod? Would you like to know how I know?”
“I don’t and I would never cheat on my husband. I love him too much to do that to him.”
“Liar!” I yelled while slamming my hands down on the table.
The interviewer jumped. One guard rushed over and slammed me back into my chair. One hand on his taser, the other on my chest clutching my shirt. I brought my hand up to his and glared at him. He was interrupting my fun.
“Be cool, man. Do not make me tase you. Remember what warden said, if you behave, he will give you two hours of yard time.” The guard whispered.
“I’m just having a little fun Boyd, what’s wrong with that? It’s been a while since I’ve seen a pretty face.” I whispered back.
Boyd held his stern face, but I saw the hurt flash in his eyes.
“Vincent, come on, man. What were you just telling us before she came in here, huh? Do you want to go outside? Feel the sun, smell the air, work out? Huh? Maybe even have a visit from one of your fans?” He asked.
“Conjugal?”
“I don’t know, maybe. It depends on how good you are.” He mumbled hurt by the suggestion.
“Ok, ok. I will try to be on my best behavior.”
Boyd relaxed his hold on me. I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes. After a couple of seconds, I opened them.
“You good or what?” Boyd asked me with a confused expression on his face.
“You smell good today, Boyd. New cologne? Are you going to stay late tonight?” I whispered while rubbing his hand.
I moved my other hand up his inner thigh. I kept my eyes on his. I felt him shudder slightly and heard him sigh. Fear came into his eyes, not fear of me, but of someone noticing.
“Stop. Someone might see.” He snapped at me.
I moved my hands and held them up in the air. I felt something slide into my undershirt and Boyd let go of my shirt. Boyd returned to his position. I glanced over at the interviewer and swung my arms as wide as they could go. I gave her a half apologetic look.
“My apologies, I was just having a bit of fun. I assume you know my name, what is yours?” I asked her.
“OK, um, my name is Aisha Rivers.” She told me softly.
“Aisha, what a beautiful name. Tell me, Aisha, how long have you been married? How old are you, do you have any children, how do you know Jarod?” I fired at her.
“We are not here to talk about me.” She snapped back.
“Attitude, I like that. If you are going to be writing about me, the least we can do is get acquainted.”
“Can we just move this along?”
“Why the hurry? I have nowhere to go.”
“You may not have anywhere to go, but I have a husband waiting for me at home.”
I cocked an eyebrow. I caught the way her voice shifted when she said husband like it left a bad taste in her mouth. I saw how her eyes hastily flicked towards the two-way mirror and back to mine. It wasn’t her husband she was in a hurry to get to. I chuckled and winked at the two-way mirror. I scratched the bottom of my chin, stalling for more time.
