I’m beaming as we walk through the halls. Bear escorts me up to Alison’s office and leaves me there.

I’m so excited, I can’t sit still. I wander around, touching her stuff and looking at her books.

I wonder when she first read The Art of Psychology. When did she decide she wanted to get into people’s heads? She certainly got into mine.

I make myself a coffee and sit in her chair. I look over the papers and computer, but I don’t pry.

I’m not that kind of guy.

Sitting in her chair is giving me a kick, though.

I grin as I sip my coffee, wondering who might’ve sat in the cushy armchair across the desk since we fucked in it. I put my weight back in Alison’s chair.

It’s a wheelie, swivel chair, big and comfortable. The leather squeaks as I put my weight back in it.

I wonder if we can fuck in this one. We might tumble out of it, or break the chair. Either way, it’ll be fun.

I think about her clothes and what she might be wearing today. She seems to favor tight, close-fitting business skirts that come to the knee, and smart blouses that button up the front. She likes little jackets that pull tight at the waist, showing off her shape and yet hiding the true size of her breasts.

She likes those shiny black heels.

Sometimes with stockings, sometimes without.

Always with wild, tousled hair.

I breathe deep for a moment, imagining Ali under my nose, in my arms. The sweet, thick smell of a woman.

Ali is so delicate, so perfect, and I know I’ve never felt like this before.

I see her coming in the door in my mind, wearing the little suit, smiling at me, closing and locking the door.

She starts taking off the shoes and jacket, then she reaches the desk.

She unbuttons the blouse and makes a wise crack about me sitting in her chair, as if she’s the patient.

In my fantasy, I watch her boldly take off the blouse and bra. She walks toward me with her breasts swaying, sitting on my lap, kissing my lips.

I realize I’ve been in this chair for some time. I sip my coffee, and its getting cold.

Shouldn’t she be here by now?

I don’t actually know what time the appointment is. Not that I have a watch. I enjoy the timelessness of prison, but at times like this, knowing the time could be handy.

I drum the fingers of my left hand against the desk, finishing my coffee.

I need to see her. I’m trying to stay calm. My whole life has been on hold since we fucked.

I need her. I now see how the great design of my life was intended to bring me to this moment.

To meet Ali.

I considered getting busted and thrown in jail a large inconvenience. It’s not something I couldn’t handle; a learning experience, definitely, but an inconvenience.

Once I got in here, I realized the experience might have its own merits.

Then Ali. Everything in my life has led to Ali.

I picture her again, under me, her sweet smell clinging to my face. I want to spread her out on the floor, see that wild red hair fanned out as she writhes. I want get those gorgeous legs open.

I wonder if I could tease her so much that she would take me and tackle me like a wild animal.

My cock’s standing up nice and hard now. She’s so real I can almost smell her…taste her, too.

Where is she?

I try to be good. I try to restrain my thoughts, just like Ali would want me to.

I think about all the dresses I’ll buy for her when I get out of here—magnificent gowns, perfectly tailored, so she can sweep around like a princess.

I still don’t know all her favorite food. I can’t wait to take her out to eat.

To the opera, or to Italy. Anywhere. Just me and Ali.

I get up from her desk and start to pace. The sun has changed its angle through the one shitty little window, and I know it’s definitely late now.

Why would she be late?

Did something happen? A car accident? A personal emergency?

That’s what I should think about. I know she wants me, and it had to be something severe that’s kept her from me.

Despite this, I can’t help the doubt that begins to cloud my mind. It’s like dark ink spreading into my thoughts, and I can’t stop it.

I pushed her too hard, too soon. I shouldn’t have fucked her. I shouldn’t have got rough with her.

My own stupid demanding nature and impatience fucked this up for me. She’s terrified; she’s out there somewhere, huddling and scared because she doesn’t want to come near the big scary monster man.

Maybe she’s disappeared. Maybe she just left town.

Maybe Prof found out and took her off the case. My fists clench and my eyes narrow at the very idea. He better not interfere.

Still, I think she would’ve told me, or come to visit me. Surely, if something like that had happened, she would’ve found a way to contact me.

I stand very still and quiet in the darkening office. I have so many thoughts pounding through my head, but only one is gaining ground. It’s like a dark cancer blooming in my heart.

Ali is staying away.

Ali doesn’t want to see me.

I lose it for a few seconds, staggering, laughing, and clenching my fists, looking for something to hit. I hear my own voice, maniacal, laughing, half-crying.

The pain in my chest is eating me alive. It’s spreading like clouds in a storm on a summer day.

It’s spreading into my throat—where I feel tight and hard, like words won’t come out—into my arms, into my legs. It’s a black well of despair, and it’s taking over me.

“Ali…Ali,” I whisper it like a prayer.

Where is she? She knows I need her.

Why would she torture me this way? I don’t understand.

There’s a knock at the door, and Bear pushes the door open.

“Mr. Covington, sir. I need to take you back downstairs now.”

I cross my arms and plant my feet.

“Where’s Ali?”

“Dr. Hughes? She didn’t come in today.”

“She missed our appointment?”

“No, I mean, she didn’t come in at all. The whole day.”

“So she’s sick, then?”

“I don’t know…They did mention she wasn’t at the courthouse either. Maybe. Maybe she took a personal day off. It’s not really my department.”

“Well, you could find out!” I roar at him.

He flinches and steps back, letting go of the door. I pull a hand over my face, hearing my high-pitched laughter and trying to get myself under control.

I can’t. Panic’s singing through my veins.

I did this. I fucked her. I scared her away.

I hurt my princess, and now she’s running from the monster. She doesn’t want to fix me. She doesn’t care.

She’s bolting out of here under the cause of self-preservation.

“Do you need a minute, Mr. Covington?”

“I…”

I honestly don’t know. I want to get out of here.

I want to pound the pavement in my orange jumpsuit and worn, old canvas shoes until I find her. I want to walk the streets and howl at the sky like a lonely wolf.

“Pull yourself together, man.” My voice cracks as I say it. This is no good.

“Did you say something, sir?” Bear asks quietly.

“Yes,” I answer him, not really paying attention. I clench my fists, feeling all my rage and confusion come together inside me like violence is a solid thing that can be felt.

This is what always happens when I get upset. It’s so sharp and dark inside me; I must let it bleed out.

There’s no choice. This is how I was made, and I stopped fighting it a long time ago.

“Bear, you’re right. I think I should go back downstairs.”

I start to step toward the door.

Bear’s still wearing the bruises from our last tackle, so he backs up pretty quickly as I approach.

“You okay, Mr. Covington?”

“No, I’m not okay, Bear, you fucking idiot,” I snarl at him. We walk down the hall together, Bear giving me a bit of room.

“Do you…do you need something?” He doesn’t even want to ask. It’s hard to get good help these days.

“I want you to contact my guys for me. You know the number—they’ve already been helping you out, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Right, then tell them I’ll be waiting for the call. It’s of the utmost importance they contact me. Immediately.”

“Yes, sir. I can do that.”

We walk along in silence. I’m going to talk to Benny too, and give him the same instructions. I’m going to get everyone I have on this.

I must see her. I have to see Alison.

I have that feeling—that cold darkness inside.

If I don’t find her, speak to her…people will get hurt.