I haven’t heard from Alison. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on.

Benny’s been let out. My other guys are very quiet, trying not to provoke me. I keep asking the guards what’s happening, and they keep putting me off.

I’m starting to get really fucking mad. I didn’t feel like an animal in a cage before, but I do now.

I pace my cell. None of the comforts I’ve provided for myself do any good. Since those new guards showed up, I have a feeling the situation is going down the fucking drain.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m still completely sure of myself. That’s the only thing in this world you can be sure of: where you stand, what you need to do.

Anything else is a waste of space in your precious mind.

The door darkens, and I snap my head up to see who’s there. It’s those two fucking meatheads that were with the Prof. There’re four of them now.

“Well, look at you pretty ladies all dolled up. Where are we headed, girls? I didn’t bring my tux.”

No one even cracks a smile. Tough crowd.

They come in, the guards that run my show looking hard at the floor. They don’t want me to see the deception in their eyes. I’ll make sure they get it—every single one of them.

Don’t they know who I am?

I breathe deeply, trying to get myself under control. Trying to remember the certainty I had yesterday morning, holding Ali in my arms.

We are meant to be. This is just a test of my strength and faith.

I say nothing, keeping my eyes down as they chain me. I let myself go limp and compliant as they fasten the cuffs tightly on my wrists.

I don’t notice the walk through the building. I have that sense of dislocation, which occasionally happens—like time has become fluid. Reality isn’t real.

As the door opens, sunlight breaks across my face, stinging my eyes. I throw my hands up.

“Don’t you know sunglasses are a basic human right?” I snap at them. No one even looks at me.

Two guards in front, two behind. All I can see is their hard posture. They look like mannequins or something unreal. Stage actors.

As we walk across the lot, I see we’re heading for a large, heavily armored truck.

“What’s happening? Hey! What’s happening?”

They don’t answer. As we get nearer the truck, two guys head to the front, and I hear locks clicking. One comes back and opens the door. It’s one of those really overdone type of trucks, all hard, grimy metal with benches to sit on, with built-in loops for the chains to go through.

I plant my feet, head held high. I eyeball the nearest one. He’s wearing sunglasses, the fucker. How I’d like to smash them into his fucking eyeballs.

“I have a right to know what’s happening. I’m not moving until you explain to me what’s happening. I demand my right to legal counsel.”

The two behind me don’t move or speak. One is still up in the cab. Mirror Glasses pulls out a clipboard and pen.

“Your right to legal counsel ended after your initial hearing. This is a matter of security. Standard procedure for a prisoner that escapes from jail. You’re being transferred to maximum security, Mister Covington.”

There’s something in his expression I don’t like. It’s actually making me feel a bit anxious. Something’s not right here.

“Standard procedure?”

“Yes, sir. Standard policy for any prisoner who manages to escape. You must be incarcerated in maximum security for the safety of all involved—including yourself, of course.” The cunt has the nerve to look contrite.

“But I didn’t escape. I was let out by my doctor.”

“Your doctor was not authorized. It’s been officially recorded that you influenced her. Isn’t that what you said in your statement?”

Fuck. I did say that. I wanted to take the heat off Ali.

Shit. Okay. It’s time to tell the truth again. Nothing works like the truth.

“Have you met Alison Hughes? Do you know what sort of woman she is? I couldn’t influence her to do anything. Trust me.”

The guy sighs. He’s tired of this. Probably wants to get the first job done for the day so he can go get a box of donuts or something.

“You’re preaching to deaf ears, buddy. We got our orders. You’re getting moved, and that’s all there is to it.”

He starts to haul me towards the truck by the chains. I’m not struggling, but I’m not giving in, either. One of the guys from behind shoves me hard, and I fall forward. I look furiously over my shoulder at him.

He’s not wearing glasses, and he’s giving me the worst ‘fuck you’ look I’ve ever seen. He’s chewing gum and sneering at me as his jaw pops and crackles.

“Think you’re fucking good, don’t you? You lily-assed little prick. You’re going to the big house now, fucker. Someone’s going to make use of those soft white hands, for sure. You’ll be in there a long time, Jack old boy.”

My mind goes icy calm. I feel the rage streaking through me. I can feel the grin creeping across my face as I start to turn around.

My hands jerk, jingling the chains, and I’m furious at being restrained.

I’m getting ready to head butt him and get the fucking chains around his throat when I see Alison.

She’s running towards us, breathless, almost crying.

“Stop!” she calls. “Stop!”

I clasp my hands to stop my fingers reaching out for the prick and bow my head, trying to relax my body.

I think of Ali. Her skin under my hands. Her eyes looking up at me.

Images of blood and violence still play out inside me, but I don’t react. I don’t move.

The guards all stop and turn around, looking at Ali and at each other. She’s waving a piece of paper.

“Stop! Right now.” She gasps as she comes to a halt, catching her breath.

She looks at me, and it’s like the world has melted away. She smiles, and my hands jerk again, involuntarily. I want to hold her. God, do I want to.

“I have an official order here. Jaxon Covington is to be released immediately. You have to bring him back inside. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Well, fuck me.” The words just burst out of me with a ripple of laughter. “Check this out, boys! Looks like we’re not going for a ride, after all.”

“I need to see that, miss,” says Mirror Glasses. Alison hands him the paper. He takes his time reading it over.

“All we have here is an official medical report. I need orders from up top before I can unlock the chains. It’s my ass on the line, and I certainly can’t do it here in the carpark. It’s against every regulation.”

“So bring him inside then,” Alison snaps at him, and I can’t hold in a chuckle.

She’s really becoming a bit like me. I guess some of my impatience with the lesser beings of humanity has rubbed off on her. That’s perfectly okay, since some of her control has rubbed off on me, too.

Made for each other. Meant to be.

I take a deep breath. It was just another test—a stupid fucking test. I know I’m right. I know it.

The guys close up the truck and start walking me back to the building. I’ve got sweat running down my sides in the heavy jumpsuit, even in the cool air. Holding in my rage is a conscious effort of will, and it’s physical, as well as mental. Alison walks nearby, holding her paper like it’s the most important document in the world.

“What the fuck did you say to Prof?” I ask, grinning.

She turns her head towards me and smiles. “I had to pull in every technical term I could think of. He tried to convince me I was biased, but the worst thing you can do to a sensitive patient is put him in a situation where he might get worse. Especially if he has shown significant signs of improvement, which you have.”

Her expression softens further. “You’ve come so far, Jaxon. You’ve overcome your trigger. All I did was convince Doctor Gardener that if we didn’t salvage the progress we’d already made, we would rob society of a very special and influential person who could do a lot of good.”

“You’re amazing, Ali. I love you,” I whisper, and I know she hears me, even though my voice is soft.

I look up at the dull, concrete building and I can’t quite believe that in a matter of moments, I’ll be free. I’ll have Ali in my arms.

Like I said, someone up there really likes me. Don’t they say God protects the mad?