This is another writing prompt, but I don’t remember the details of the prompt.
The rain poured down as she kissed him good-bye. In her eyes, she would always remember seven-year-old Kyle with his wide hazel green eyes and his deep brown skin, wet with more than the rain. Tears had been pouring since this morning.
“I don’t wanna go, Momma,” he said, holding her hand tighter.
Terra bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry. For the first time in her life, she was having a hard time talking. “I know, but remember our talk last night, right?”
“But you didn’t mean to do it. Tell them,” he insisted, looking briefly back at the people standing by the State of Michigan’s Child Protection Car waiting for Kyle to join them. “It was a mistake.”
“Yes, it was Kyle, but I have to pay for that mistake.” Kissing his brown one more time, she had to practically twist her hand to get it out of his grasp and stepped away.
The social worker stepped forward to gather Kyle in her arms. He threw his head back and wailed loudly, reaching his arms out for Terra.
“Can we go now?” the snide voice said behind her.
“Wait!” she insisted, watching as they buckled Kyle, who was now hysterically crying, in the car. “Just wait until they drive away.”
There was a sharp impatient huff of irritation in the large dark figure behind her. His edginess was annoying. Couldn’t he understand that she wouldn’t see her son for twenty years because of something that she didn’t do? Of course not.
When the car was pulling away, she heard the cold metal of chains behind her.
“Put your hands behind you, Terra,” he ordered.
She looked forward and wondered if she jumped off the porch and ran would the bounty hunter catch her? Of course he would. Damn Lethal Heart for finding her. She had every right to drive a knife into Jonathan Michaels, but his clumsy ass had fallen on it, but she didn’t regret that either. Losing Jonathan was no love loss, despite the fact that he had been the father of her child.
“I’m innocent,” she said, putting her arms behind her back.
“They all say that, lady,” he growled, putting the handcuffs on and then turning her to face him. He was actually smirking in triumph.
“I hate you! I’ll escape again and I’ll come after you and kill you!” Terra swore.
He looked her up and down, smirking devilishly. That was the most expression she had gotten out of him, since he had caught up with her a week ago. His black eyes though didn’t portray the humorous expression on his face. They were cold and deadly – as usual.
“You want to kill me, Terra?” Lethal stepped so close; she could feel the breath from his mouth on her upper lip. “Stand in the motherfucking line, cause I got enough fuckers after me to fill a football stadium.” Again those eyes roved over her wet bodice and glimmer of heat flashed across his face, making her step away. “But for you, I might give you a V.I.P. pass to come get me early.”
Disgust filled her and if her hands had been free, she would have slapped that crooked smirk off his face.
Sharply, he turned her back around to put shackles on her ankles.
Terra couldn’t help becoming aroused as he placed a hand high on the back of her ankle and lingered there more than necessary. As he stood back up close behind her, his body pressed up against the back of her.
“I cold oblige you right now, Terra, and let you have at me. I like it rough, you know.”
Snorting, trying not to show that his proximity was affecting her breathing, she said, “Don’t do me any favors.”
Delicious Prisoner (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard
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