Song Above: ATM J.Cole

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I checked my phone twice and a third time in the hope of a call or a text from my mom. I mean any normal parent would call when their daughter skips school, not mine though.

I kind of wished she'd call and demand me to come home, even though visiting this prison was for Brody, I had a weird feeling in my stomach and usually, that was a bad sign.

"You okay?" Brody tore his eyes from the road to look at me, he put a hand on mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

I almost wanted to laugh, I shouldn't be the one being reassured, he was about to look the man who murdered his mom in the eyes and I was the one getting hot sweats.

We'd planned to skip school one day and drive up to the prison he was being held.

I didn't know his name or what he looked like. All I knew was the prison was an hours drive away and we'd only get half an hour with him.

High-security prisons weren't massive fans of unexpected visits out of visiting hours, but Brody knew a few connections through his father and got us a way in.

I didn't dare ask who or how they knew them.

"I'm fine," I said all too enthusiastically, which he saw right through like translucent glass.

"You know if you want me to drop you off at a diner whilst I go in, I don't mind?"

"No of course not," I objected squeezing his hand tighter, "I want to be there with you and for you,"

His lips curled up into a smile, "I don't deserve you, you know that?

"Oh shut up," I rolled my eyes in a teasing way despite his words causing heat to ignite in my chest, "Don't get soft we're about to go into a prison,"

"Thinking about prison, should I steal some handcuffs?" A devilish glint flashed across his eyes and he bit his lip.

"And why would you do that?" I traced a delicate finger along his hand and up to his arm. I watched as he shivered at the touch and the hairs on his arms raised, tickling my fingertips.

I smiled in satisfaction.

"Ah I don't know, reasons," He said coyly, his voice low and sexy, "Why don't we stop on the way and I can show you?"

"Let's get to the prison first and then after you can show me exactly what you want to do,"

His smile fell and his brows scrunched together, "I haven't even thought about what I want to say to him,"

Oh, and I killed the moment.

"Say to him listen here you fu..." My voice fell short as I stared up at the large iron fences in front of us. They circled as far as I could see in a mass of seclusion with no escape.

We pulled up next to a gate, which stood approximately fifteen feet high, a towering, brooding mass of steel beams and barbed wire.

I gulped.

Brody leaned out his window and spoke into the buzzer. I didn't quite hear what he said, but it must have been the right thing since the firing squad wasn't on us and the gate slowly squeaked open.

He drove down this narrow dirt path that had replica iron fences around it and a few guards cautiously watched us as they did their rounds. I tried to keep my eyes on their faces rather than the huge guns they had strapped to them.

My insides screamed danger and told me to take flight.

"You don't think they use them do you?" I whispered my eyes the size of saucers and Brody laughed.

"Of course they do Ivy, It's a prison,"

I swallowed the vile that formed at the back of my throat and leant further into my chair trying to avoid the heavy eyes of the guards. Brody found a parking spot, turned his ignition off and turned his body to face me.

"You sure about this?" He asked, his eyes slowly raking over my face trying to find a hint of protest. I knew if I said the word he'd leave, he'd always leave for me.

Despite the nagging feeling I had, I gave him a warm smile, "If this is what you need I will be there with you,"

He leant forward and kissed my cheek. His breath was minty and familiar,  warming the dread that swirled in my stomach,

"Thank you for this, I really mean it," His warm eyes trailed my face, the gratitude present in his expression.

"It's fine, you just owe me loads and loads of skittles that's all,"

"Of course," He chuckled, shaking his head as he undid his seat belt. I shortly followed after.

I needed a moment to calm the rapid beating of my heart and the nerves that swam like a tidal wave in my stomach. I got out of the car, the mid-morning heat on my face and pulled on my pair of sunglasses.

Brody turned half towards me, reaching his hand out which I took without a second thought. He smiled down at me before guiding me towards what seemed to be the entrance to the prison.

Two guards looked down at me as I passed and I could feel their leering gazes sliver down me. I shivered and instantly regretted wearing a skirt. I wrapped a hand around myself and Brody noticed my discomfort, instinctively and protectively pulling me closer to his side.

We reached the front desk to find a short bald man with his feet up on a table watching the latest sports showing on a small television. He had a  meat sub in one hand and I tried to not scrunch my nose up in disgust at the red sauce dripping down his shirt.

He looked up at us both and sighed. He placed the sub on the side, without a napkin or a cloth may I add, wiped his hands on his trousers and took his sweet time to walk towards us.

"Visiting hours are on Tuesdays and Thursdays kids, you'll have to wait to see your daddy," His accent was strong, he pulled a toothpick from his pocket and began to chew on the wood already bored with us.

"I'm not here to see my dad," Brody said through his teeth, his impatience getting the better of him.

"Well then your brother, your uncle, your second cousin, I don't care, visiting hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays," The man dismissed us with his hand and turned to walk away.

"I'm Brody Jackson, I'm here to see the Jackson murderer,"

The man froze and for a split second, I thought I heard him stop breathing. He slowly turned around, the colour drained from his pudgy cheeks.

"Ah yes, uh we have uh been expecting you," He stumbled obviously flustered, "I need you to sign in and later sign out, its uh for safety measures,"

"Duly noted," Brody took the pen from the guy's hand and scribbled onto a sheet, he turned and passed the pen to me. I took it and did the same. I looked at the name below ours and scrunched my brows together in confusion.

Paul Jackson.

What was Brody's dad doing here?

Before I could say anything the man spoke interrupting my thoughts.

"This your girlfriend?" He nodded towards me and Brody just blinked at him, "Uh nevermind, Ross and Turner will have to do a search before you go in, it's standard procedure for your safety and the prisoners,"

"Whatever," Brody muttered.

The Ross and Turner he was referring to were the creepy guys from outside the main entrance and I knew they'd enjoy every moment their pervy little hands would get searching me.

I had to ignore how their hands lingered on certain body parts longer than others and how they felt it was necessary to go through my phone.  Brody carefully watched them the whole time and I knew he wanted to lunge at them, but he couldn't or else he'd be in one of these cells or worst.

"They didn't hurt you did they?" He whispered as we made our way down a long dimly lit corridor with an array of doors on the walls. I gulped at the thought of what lurked behind them.

The corridor was a hollow row of concrete, one way in, no windows. I couldn't imagine what the cells looked like from the inside. Give enough time and you'd probably forget who you were in there. There wasn't a distinct smell or scent, or sound of people, just eerie silence.

Lights flickered from above and I spoke in a rush, trying to distract myself, "No of course not, dumb and dumber just have obviously never been with a girl before,"

He chuckled under his breath, "They did scream forty-year-old virgin didn't they?"

"They might as well had it written on their foreheads,"

Brody grabbed my hand, his fingers slipping through mine, "Last time I'm asking you, but are you sure about this?"

I looked up at his nervous face, watched the way his lip trembled and his brows furrowed, "Are you sure about this?"

He looked taken back by the question, he took a few seconds to retain the thoughts that clearly ran riot through his head and sucked in a deep breath determination clouding his features, "I'm more than sure,"

We stopped short at a blacked-out metal door and the guard who had guided us span on his heel with a level of authority behind his voice, "You do not touch the prisoner under any circumstances, the walls may seem normal but we can see you, but you can't see us so no funny business, you get thirty minutes and nothing more, you wanna leave before then just let the guard in the room know, now I'll tell you boy this guy, he ain't the full ticket, so don't take every he says as gospel, there's a screw loose there,"

He pulled out his keys and they jangled in his hands, "Good luck to you," He unlocked the door and pulled it open, the metal screeching against the floor.

There he was in the shadows, watching and waiting as if he had been this whole time.