Coming Home(174)

“Pick those up.”

Danny inhaled slowly before he squatted down to grab his discarded boots. He slipped them back on and stood, keeping his eyes on the small window of the door in front of him as he waited for Layne to give him clearance.

And then he saw her.

She was standing near the civilian entrance to the visitor’s center, looking beautiful and pristine and perfect, and all at once some dormant part of him resurfaced, making him want to rip the door off the hinges and run to her.

The sight of her did something strange to his body, like the shot of Demerol he’d gotten as a child just before the surgery on his broken leg. He could sense something warm rush through his veins, making him feel heavy and sedated, but oddly enough, it didn’t do a thing to ease his pain; the hurt was still there—he could feel it—but it had temporarily lost its power over him.

Danny watched as two guards asked her to empty the clear plastic bag she carried in place of her purse, since opaque bags weren’t allowed inside the facility. She did as she was told, taking a step back and spinning her mother’s bracelet between her fingers. It was a nervous habit of hers that Danny had always found endearing, but today it made him feel like his chest was being crushed.

He watched her chew on her lower lip as she glanced back and forth between them. He watched her run her hands down the sides of her jeans as she inhaled a deep breath. He watched her standing in a windowless room full of felons as two strangers searched through her things.

And he knew she didn’t belong there.

“You’re clear,” Layne said, his eyes on his clipboard as he wrote something. “Keep your hands to yourself or your ass will be thrown back through these doors so fast you won’t even get a chance to say, ‘I’m innocent.’ Is that clear?”

Danny swallowed before he nodded.

“I said, is that clear?”

Danny closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Layne dismissed him with a flick of his head.

As Danny reached for the door, he realized his hand was trembling, and he couldn’t be sure if it was nerves or stifled rage that was responsible. With one tiny breath to strengthen his resolve, he pulled the door open.

She was still standing by the entrance with the guards as they placed items back in her bag, and Danny made his way over to one of the smaller tables and sat down. He watched her take her bag back from the guard and nod with a tiny smile before she turned to enter the room.

Her eyes landed on him instantly, and her face broke into a wide grin as she took two quick steps in his direction before she stopped and composed herself. Danny stood, drinking her in as she continued toward him, and when only a few feet of space remained between them, he reached his arms out for her.

She ran the last few steps to him and threw her arms around his neck, and Danny exhaled heavily as he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body.

The smell of her hair enveloped him, making him feel like he was being ripped apart and reconstructed all at once.

She let go of him almost immediately, giving him a quick peck on the mouth before taking two steps backward.

“They told me the rules,” she said, taking another reluctant step away from him, and it felt like his insides were spilling out onto the floor.

He hated every eye in the room that watched them right now. Every guard who sat glued to their interactions like they were watching an episode of reality TV. He hated every motherf*cker who refused to let him have this one moment with her.

“Should we…” she asked, gesturing toward the seats, and Danny cleared his throat.