I’m almost giddy as we get hit by the night air. Even though it’s so late and I’ve had a long day, there’s a sort of expectancy to the evening. As if it’s only 6:00 p.m., and I’m a teenager again, heading out to capture the excitement of a Friday night.

Not that I did that much, but I understand the emotion behind it—the feeling that you own the world and all that’s fun in it.

It’s not because I’m technically breaking a prisoner out of jail. It’s because I’m with Jaxon.

It feels like the first real date I’ve ever had.

The walk through the prison was disconnected from reality. The shadows seemed to lengthen, and all the other inmates were like caged animals, looking out at the lucky one that got free.

I expected them to look at me, maybe taunt my body like something out of Silence of the Lambs, but every single one stayed quiet.

The upper office floor is almost deserted at this time of night. It’s something I knew I could count on. However, the security checkpoint just breezes past us.

Here I am, with my half-assed cock-and-bull story about a field trial of a medical hypothesis, all ready to wow the laymen with my mastery of long words, and they just nod and let us out.

Let Jaxon out.

I should be scared. I should be full of doubts. He has a proven history of violence.

It’s not just an idle note on a psychiatric file. Its recorded fact…and something I’ve seen with my own eyes.

I want to say I care. I want to say I really believe he’s trying to be a better person and he won’t hurt anyone.

Truth is, I don’t know anything like that.

I just want to be with him…free and unchained.

The idea that he might fuck someone up makes me ache between the legs. Part of me wants to see him lose it.

I can’t stop thinking about the violence I’ve witnessed from him. It’s not the medical science…the human civility washed away by the violence of the ape that lives in our bones.

No, that’s attractive. It should be my medical focus.

No. I don’t care about that.

I care about how seeing him exert his strength onto another human being—a bigger, stronger human being—gets me wet and aching.

I want to see it again. I’ll deny this—even to myself—but part of me wants to see that again. I’m a smart-enough psychologist to know that my conscious mind is working right against my ego right now.

My conscious mind is trying really hard to justify this, both medically and emotionally.

My ego’s hungry and wet and gasping, wanting to see those muscles tight and hard as they tear apart their enemy, their victim.

Stop thinking like this, Alison.

I take his hand, trying to impress my giddy feeling onto him. From the way he smiles, I think he feels it.

He feels something. It’s there behind his eyes—in the darkness lurking at the edges of his expression.

I turn and laugh at the stars. I’m fucking mad. Jesus God, I’m as mad as he is.

I can’t even let him know that! I’m that much of a twisted, fucked-up mess.

Suddenly, I feel shaky and slippery inside. It’s hard to catch my breath. I tug on his hand and pull him toward my car.

He has this smile now, like he knows what I’m thinking.

He can’t possibly. I try not to think about that. I know sociopaths are such good, cold readers that nothing escapes them.

But so am I. It’s part of my job and my training.

Still, the only time I see Jaxon’s true intent is when he’s violent. Other than that, a few small glimpses.

Obviously, I want to know that he can control his violence. I know how brutal psychopaths and sociopaths can be, especially to those they claim to love.

Do I love his violence because that’s the only time I see the true Jaxon, with no mask? Is my desire to see him control it only a flimsy mask that protects my deeper self?

The quest for the superego and its perfection. Fuck it, fuck it all.

I don’t care.

I make a conscious decision to enjoy this night. I’m going to act like a high school kid on a date. Fuck it, fuck it all.

I’m here, he’s here, the night feels young, and I’m letting go.

As we approach my car, Jaxon’s grin gets wider. I move over to the driver’s seat, getting out my keys. He shakes his head.

“Do you really want to take your car?”

“What choice do we have?” I look stupidly between my keys and his face.

He gives my hand a tug, and I follow him around the back of my car to the next lot.

There’s a limo—a goddamn fucking limousine parked next to my car. An immaculately dressed driver steps out and opens the door.

“Good evening, Dr. Hughes. I’m pleased to drive you anywhere you wish to go.”

I’m stunned.

Completely.

The surrealism of the night so far increases tenfold. If I felt like a kid going to a dance before, now I feel like a princess about to be swept off to a ball.

“But…I don’t know where to go.” The words are out before I can think.

It’s so late. I didn’t think. Surely there would be some clubs or bars open.

I don’t want to get into that scene. Not at all. But especially not my first night alone with Jaxon.

I’m trying desperately to think of somewhere nice that might be open when Jaxon laughs.

“What’s so funny?” I look up at him.

“Your face, honey. I’ve never seen anyone look so puzzled.”

“I’m just…I mean—”

“Ali,” he says with purpose, putting his arms around me. “Did you really think I would organize a limo without also organizing dinner reservations?”

“But how? How could you do all this? I didn’t even know I was coming here until an hour or so ago!”

He shrugs, giving me the cheekiest grin. His black hair curls across his forehead, his eyes sparkling with his own mischief.

Reality seems to just roll away and disappear like a thick cloud of fog over the ocean. I’m not in the real world anymore.

I’m in Jaxon’s world. His and mine. I’m still shocked, confused, and really, really curious…but I can’t say no, can I?

A big smile stretches across my face. I reach up around his shoulders and kiss that mischievous grin, running my fingers through that curly black hair.

“Alright then, Mr. Covington. Since you have the night all planned, I’ll leave the finer details to you.”

“Step into my chariot,” he says, stepping closer to the car, somehow making his prison jumpsuit look like a tailored suit.

I want to pull off some funny line, but I know I can’t—I’m still too shocked. I slide into the limo, and he gets in after me.

The driver nods as he shuts the door, getting back in the front. Jaxon asks the driver if all went well with the reservations. The driver nods and says we’ll be perfectly on time.

On time…how did he even know what time?

The feeling of being a princess going to a ball intensifies. It’s so beautiful, but the future looms with the reality of returning to prison with Jaxon.

I shut that firmly out my mind and look up into Jaxon’s eyes. Just looking at him makes me smile.

I’m a princess, on an adventure, with a handsome prince—who’s somehow magic—and the inevitable future isn’t going to interfere with this magnificent moment. The endless moment of now.

The only place anyone can truly be happy.