Confession of a King

“Vodka tonic, extra lime… Ivy, why the hell do you did you do this to yourself? Sunday funday was always the precursor for painful Monday…” I muttered to myself, slamming the door to my car with my hip and walking toward the prison entrance.

I had been working here for about two months and things had been getting a lot more, well, simple. Some of the inmates were opening up to me and it was pretty nice to be able to get inside their heads and help them. I had been building a great working relationship with the guards, and a wonderful doctor/patient relationship with Jimmy Sullivan. The guy was absolutely bat-shit crazy, but he would come into my office and we would talk about anything and everything… from aliens to religion… he should’ve gotten involved in philosophy, not drugs and cannibalism. Jeremy wasn’t doing well, which I figured would be the case. He would give me bits and pieces of his life, but it was obvious that depression had overcome him. I wasn’t allowed to prescribe him any anti-depressants because of the fear that he would OD on anything that fell into his hands. Last, but not least, my relationship with none other than Matthew Sanders was going as smooth as it kind of could. A tough exterior with an even tougher inside to crack… I couldn’t seem figure out what was going on in that thick skull of his behind the vulgar remarks about wanting to screw me, the child-like dimpled smile he would flash at me, and the fact that 90% of the time he was in a session he was asleep.

The sound of clacking heels on the cement floor of the prison hall was absent today. I had chosen to wear a pair of flats today in my hungover state. With my purse held close to me, my computer bag slung across my shoulder and my sunglasses still sitting on my face, I tried my best to make it passed Redd without being noticed.

“Hello Ms. Miada!” That familiar voice called out. “What’s with the sunglasses? Long weekend sitting home and getting used to your new job?”

I pushed my sunglasses up into my hair and looked Redd in the face with a fake smile, “You could say that. I decided to take some time yesterday and actually meet up with a few girlfriends. Now I have a headache and would just like to get through the day.”

“If you need any Advil, let me know. I have a whole drawer full of-“ Redd got cut off by the sound of two big guards screaming to give them some room down the hall.

“Everything is going dark, man!” The inmate in their arms screamed, blood pouring down his face. “I can’t fucking see!”

What the fuck is happening in here today… I thought to myself.

“Ivy,” Mr. Morgan’s voice erupted from the other side of me, causing me to startle a little. “I hate to rush you along, but from the two minute walk from your car into the building you have gotten yourself a visitor in your office.”

I nodded, “Thank you for letting me know, sir. I’ll see you both later.” I flashed a small smile then walked away from both men toward the corridor where my office was.

Taking in a deep breath, then swallowing the spit collecting in my mouth, I approached the door of my office seeing that Billy and Keith were both standing outside of it waiting for me. “Let me guess, Sanders?”

“Is it psychiatrist or psychic?” Billy teased and moved opened the door for me to my office. “We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

There in one of the leather chairs across from my desk sat Matthew Sanders, shackled at his wrists and ankles to the chair. There was some dried blood on his somewhat swollen bottom lip; a cut underneath his right eye. When he noticed me taking in his appearance that child-like grin formed on his face. I scoffed and sat down at my desk chair, folded my arms across my chest and gave him my best pokerface. I really should’ve taken Redd up on the Advil. My head was already hurting and dealing with Sanders at 7:30 AM was not going to make it feel any better.

“What brings you in here so bright and early today, Matthew?” I raised an eyebrow as I spoke. Right when he opened his mouth I spoke again, “Don’t try with the I-wanted-to-see-you bullshit. I’m not in the mood today.”

The smile on his face fell, “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

I laughed and rested my head in my hands, “No, my head hurts and the last thing I wanted to have to deal with today was you getting in a fight. I wanted us to just have a nice session where I could get some work done and you would sleep or something. But since that isn’t happening, tell me why you’re in here at 7:30 in the morning.”

“The usual I-wanted-to-see-you bullshit since I haven’t seen you in a few days, and I missed the way that ass looked in khakis,” Sanders gnawed on his bottom lip. His eyes darkened with lust as he stared at me. “Although I do prefer to watch it jiggle in a skirt.”

“Matthew,” I leaned back in my chair and shook my head. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

“You could do a lot of things, but I would prefer if you would start by riding me,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes and stood up from my desk and walked toward him. His eyes followed my every move, that smirk still playing on his lips. The veins in his arms began to protrude as I placed my hand on his cheek and ran my thumb over the cut under his eye. “You should really stop getting in fights to come see me. If you mess your pretty face up I might not put up with your gross remarks.”

His hazel eyes were a dark green, his swollen lip was dark pink with still a small bit of dried blood on it. He was good at keeping his composure and not showing that his breathing was beginning to become labored from my touch, or that his heartbeat was increasing. You could just tell in his eyes how excited he was. He was the perfect killer. He leaned into the embrace of my hand as his eyelashes fluttered, looking up at me.

I got closer to his face with a smirk on my own lips, “Close your eyes.” His eyes closed and I laughed to myself, “Stay out of trouble until I see you later.” I gave him a light smack on the cheek and stepped away from him.

He opened his eyes and looked at me playfully as I walked toward the door to tell the guards to take him out. “You forgot to put your tape recorder on,” he smirked.

“I did it on purpose, Matthew.” I opened the door, “Ya’ll can take him out now. You don’t have to restrain him this afternoon. I don’t think he’ll be giving me any trouble.” His jaw nearly fell to the floor when he heard me say that and I shot him a wink as he was escorted out of my office.

Notes