Chapter 64 – The Dumb List
Margot’s POV
The first thing I felt was warmth.
A slow, creeping heat that wrapped around my limbs like a heavy blanket.
My head nuzzled into something soft, most likely a pillow, as I stretched my legs out to find an empty yet still warm space near me…
The sheets still smelled faintly of Coban, of soap and something a little wild underneath.
For one terrifying second, I forgot where I was.
Then it all rushed back to me quicker than I’d have hoped…
The kiss. The fall. The barked command to get in bed. The quiet comfort of finally being allowed to sleep up here beside him the entire night.
I blinked against the light creeping in through the barred window. It must’ve been morning, though how late exactly, I didn’t know.
The cells didn’t come with clocks. Everything in here worked on gut instinct and the sound of distant routine.
I shifted slowly, stretching my limbs with a quiet, content sigh until I reached out and felt nothing but empty mattress.
My eyes flew open as I peeked across the bed.
But I quickly learned that Coban was gone.
The warmth he’d left behind was fading fast, and with it, my comfort began to cease too.
I sat up straight, my heart giving a nervous little kick. No heavy breathing, no dark silhouette beside me, no snarky morning comment waiting to be delivered in his gruff voice.
The bathroom door remained open, offering me a peek inside to find that empty too.
Gone?
Panic began to creep in, whispering the worst into my thoughts.
What time was it?
Had I missed breakfast again?
Had they come to knock and I’d been too deep in sleep to even hear it?
Did Coban just go without me?
“Shit,” I whispered, shoving the blanket off of me and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, already preparing myself for some kind of punishment if I’d broken a rule I didn’t even know existed yet.
But just as I stood, I caught sight of something displayed on the desk.
My notebook…
Open…
My stomach immediately dropped at the sight of it.
I didn’t leave it there.
I know I didn’t leave it there.
I kept it stashed in the drawer after I wrote some notes in it yesterday.
It was meant for observations, journaling, notes on inmate interactions, blah blah blah, not for Coban’s eyes!
I padded my way toward it cautiously, feet nearly silent against the carpeted floor like I was approaching a ticking bomb…
The page was turned to something fresh, the pen beside it still uncapped, like it had been left in a hurry.
The writing was angry. All caps. Bold strokes that practically bled frustration. A true representation of Coban as a man as my eyes scanned to read;
‘GUARDS TOOK ME TO DISCUSS THE ISSUE AT DINNER LAST NIGHT.
DO NOT LEAVE THE CELL UNTIL I GET BACK.
P.S. I DON’T APPRECIATE YOUR NOTES ABOUT ME. WE WILL DISCUSS THEM LATER TOO,
– COBAN‘
I blinked at the words, rereading them three, four times before they fully sank in.
He was gone… but not taken. Not in danger. Just summoned for a chat, I believe?
Which, sure, was still serious – being pulled into a disciplinary meeting with the guards about what happened in the cafeteria – but not necessarily lethal considering he was almost stabbed outside just the other day!
Still, my chest tightened at the realisation.
He’d left. Without waking me. Left me to rest. Un-startled and unaware.
But he thought to leave me a note at least…
Probably because he was mostly concerned about me breaking one of his rules by wandering around this place on my own if he didn’t warn me not to… but that was besides the point… it was somewhat… nice of him to give me the heads up?
I sank back into the chair in front of the desk and placed a hand over my mouth.
Then the second part hit me.
He read my fucking notes about him!
“No, no, no,” I muttered, flipping backward through the pages. My breath picked up with every turn.
I knew exactly what he’d seen.
That damn list for tomorrow’s deadline!
That stupid list I wrote yesterday when I was emotional and overwhelmed and very possibly hormonal?
It had been a private venting session, nothing more. A way to release steam without screaming into my pillow or having a mental breakdown!
But now it was a loaded gun, and he had the bullets…
My eyes scanned the notes again quickly;
‘Week One – Coban Santorelli
Personal notes;
Doesn’t follow a strict routine. Does whatever he is in the mood for in that moment. Doesn’t care if we’re late, or miss meals, or skip the schedule entirely. Time means nothing to him, but he hates being made to wait on others.
Power. He’s always in control – he needs to be. When he’s not, he lashes out. That said, he has a wild temper that can flare quickly but he hasn’t hurt me as of yet.’
I immediately slammed the book shut, mortified that he had seen these for himself…
“Fuck,” I hissed out through my teeth, hating the very way I had even worded each point, sensing my frustration and upset through the words.
My cheeks flamed as I leaned back in the chair, utterly horrified as I buried my face in my hands.
“I just keep messing up, every single day, don’t I?” I groaned out into the empty cell, like maybe the walls could give me advice.
There was no answer, of course. Just silence.
I sighed hard, standing again to pace the room and shake out some of the tension riding up my spine.
“Note to self,” I mumbled out in a rant. “Hide the damn notebook better next time. Or maybe… don’t write about your terrifyingly dangerous gangster roommate like that if you’re desperately trying so hard to survive him in order to get your money by the end of this shit! You total idiot, Margot!” I cussed myself out as though it would fix anything…
He was definitely going to come back here in a terrible mood after having to go to a meeting with the guards, let alone this on top of that!
I was a goner!
“I am stuck in a prison with a crazy criminal,” I repeated aloud, chuckling darkly to myself as I shook my head. “Yet I keep just managing to piss him off every damn day?”
It was a talent at this rate…
A game of, ‘who can ruffle their inmates feathers the most?’
I’d for sure win…
I groaned as I moved to the bathroom to freshen up and dress for the day, unsure of how long it would take Coban to return.
“God help me when he brings up my dumb list,” I whispered, eyeing the bruise on my cheek today but not bothering to cover it up.
It was still a yellowish colour but it seemed to have spread a little bigger after mint-greens assault yesterday… perfect!