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“How are you personally doing with these interviews?” he asks.
“He’s a smart man,” I admit. “Because he is very well aware of what I am doing and the methods I am using, it is easy for him to stay one step ahead of me. I am slowly getting answers out of him, but it takes a great deal of effort to build rapport with him in this setting.”
“Do you feel this would be different if he wasn’t in a prison?” he asks.
“I believe he wouldn’t feel the need to maintain as much power if he weren’t in prison,” I say. “Right now, prison is stripping him of the person he sees himself as, and that can be intimidating for anyone. Especially considering I am using his methods in an environment he isn’t choosing to be in, he likely feels out of control. Being evasive and turning the conversation around on me seems to be a defense mechanism, but I think it’s also in his nature to study people anyway.”
“You are doing a wonderful job,” he says with a smile. “Alright, Cameron, let’s move on to you…”
After class, I don’t want to seem too eager and go directly to the prison, but that’s what ends up happening anyway. I force myself to stay in the car for a few minutes. The last thing I need is for him to pick up on how I actually do enjoy this assignment. Even though he pisses me off.
Eventually, I go inside. I get through security and back to the same guard who escorts me to the interview room. This time, Gabriel isn’t waiting for me. “He will be in here in a second,” the guard tells me.
“Thank you,” I say as I sit down.
I pass the time by opening my notebook and reviewing the questions I’d like to get answered today. I don’t know why I even bother making this, because he derails my plans every fucking day.
When the door opens, I glance up and see Gabriel get escorted into the room. He has shackles on his wrists and ankles. I don’t know why that’s shocking, considering this is a prison, but it doesn’t seem fitting for him. It might be because I haven’t formed an opinion yet on whether I think he is guilty or not.
When he is taken out of the shackles, the guard leaves, and I sit back in my seat. “Hello, Nora,” he says with a smirk. “You’re early.”
“My class was released early,” I say, but it’s not true. I was a bit too eager to get here today. I am fascinated by how he has opened up so far.
“Vincent would never release his class early, but good try,” he laughs. “It’s okay. I look forward to our time together as well. Did you get your wrist looked at?”
“Yes. My boyfriend… I had someone check it,” I say, and I know I’ve fucked up now.
“Boyfriend?” he asks. “I didn’t take you as the type to commit, Nora.”
“Is that why you are single as well?” I ask. “Commitment issues?”
“Well played,” he says with a smile that doesn’t actually seem to be covering sarcasm this time. “How long have you been with your boyfriend?”
“Since freshman year,” I say honestly. “He is a sports medicine major, so he helped rebandage my arm.”
“And he just casually bandages his girlfriend’s self-harm wounds?” he asks.
“You know what they say about assuming, Mr. Ashcroft.”
“Why do you insist on calling me Mr. Ashcroft and not Gabriel?”
“Because it bothers you that I call you Mr. Ashcroft,” I say honestly. “To answer your question from yesterday, I will be attending all of your court cases.”
“Very well,” he says with a smile.
Chapter Nine
Nora
Five Days Later
I have seen Gabriel every day since I received his file. I’m not making a lot of progress right now, but he seems to be more comfortable talking to me now than he was. We are keeping to surface-level questions right now, but he occasionally pushes to try to steer us back toward his assumptions of what my trauma might be. I hate that he got it right on the very first day, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
I am sitting in court, waiting for everything to start. I’m not sure how long this will take, but Professor Green said to assume that I will be here all day. When everyone is told to rise for the judge, I stand and wait. Once seated again, he calls for Gabriel to be brought in.
I find myself holding my breath as he is led into the courtroom. His eyes sweep the room until they find mine, and he keeps his gaze fixed until he sits with his lawyer. “Ms. Jenkins,” Judge Andrew Hopkins says. “It is my understanding that you will be filing a motion today?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Gabriel’s lawyer says. She is a petite woman with long brown hair. She’s young, which I find interesting. Wouldn’t he want someone more experienced? “I would like to file a motion for dismissal.”