Crave by Karen E. Taylor Page A

know I’ve never been able to resist the pleas of a lady in distress, especially yours.”
    I smiled back at him. “Yes, I know, Ron. Don’t worry; I’ll take full responsibility for any consequences.” I stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
    He motioned me to the corner of the cell and I stood there waiting, until the glass slid aside, leaving a very thin opening the height of the cell. I squeezed through quickly and heard the panel thump closed behind me with a finality that echoed through the room.
    Larry still stood placidly at the end of his bunk. “Nice place, huh? I bet the room they gave you and the hubby is just a little bit better furnished, but I suppose they figured this is good enough for the poor relatives.” Then he held out his arms in a welcoming gesture. “But I’m forgetting my manners, please, sit down.”
    I settled in on the edge of the bed and Larry walked over to the outermost cell wall. He knocked on it. “Okay, Ron, you can turn off the mike now.” Ron’s eyes met mine across the room, I nodded and the switch was turned. The whistling sound dwindled, then stopped; other than my low breathing we were surrounded by total silence.
    â€œSo,” Larry moved over and sat next to me. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” His voice was sad without any trace of anger or vindictiveness.
    â€œI’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Larry. And I’ve come to the conclusion that what you have become is my fault. I shouldn’t have left town knowing you were here, knowing what you were. Of all of the Cadre, I’m the only one who can understand the total solitude you’ve been experiencing, the confusion, and the fear, because I have done to you what Max did to me.”
    â€œOh.”
    I don’t know what kind of explanation he’d expected to hear, but from his reaction this hadn’t been it. Still, I continued. “I am truly sorry, Larry. I should have stayed. I should have helped you, taught you, led you the way you needed to go.”
    He brushed off my words. “None of that shit matters now. But do you think,” his voice wavered and I was afraid he would begin to cry again, “I mean, can you get me out of here? Please, Deirdre,” he reached over and touched my hand, then grasped it in his. “This is horrible. You can’t imagine how awful it is, to be locked away in this stinking place.” He dropped my hand and jumped up, pacing the room. “You should have let Mitch kill me. It would have been better. Anything would be better than this.”
    â€œLarry, I’m sorry, I thought this would be, well, more bearable. I really had no idea.”
    â€œYou promised me it would be okay.” Larry’s voice grew petulant, whining. “You said that it would be okay if I came with you. That you would help me, take care of me. And then you calmly let them take me away and lock me up. Down here where there’s no sound, no air, no food. Just the damn lights and eternity ticking away a second at a time.”
    I lowered my head and opened my mouth to speak. “Larry, I . . .”
    â€œOh, I know,” he interrupted, spinning around to snarl at me, “you’re sorry, so very sorry. Fat lot of good that does me. You say you’re responsible for what I’ve done, but hell, you go scot-free and I’m the prisoner. How long, Deirdre? How long do you think you could handle this situation?”
    â€œNot very long, Larry. Probably for less time than you have already. But what can I do now? Until the trial, you have to stay here. I’ve no control over it anymore.”
    â€œOh, but you do.” He came over and knelt before me, taking my hands into his again.
    â€œWhat can I do now?” I repeated. “I can’t fight the Cadre. Jesus,” my voice rose, sounding strangely dead in the static air, “I couldn’t