THE VISITOR

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AN: I have a little surprise for you guys at the end of this chapter.;)



                                                              (3)

Isabis's Point of view:

I sluggishly looked up and met his serious green orbs, challenging him. When he showed no motives of moving out of the way, I attempted to go around him. He plants his wide body in front of mine and seizes my forearm.

Lowering himself, he whispered in a deep American accent "You're coming with me." 

Before I could argue and create a scene, I am already hauled out of the cafeteria door and headed down an empty, dark hallway. He releases my arm and mutters for me to walk. 

I felt a compulsion to curse at him and make this process much more difficult than it had to be, but I could no longer stare into his eyes. They looked sinful and secretive. There is just something about people with green eyes that makes me uneasy. Those people are usually always malicious. Red eyes would look much kinder. 

I turned on my heels and went wherever he instructed me to go.

We have been walking for what felt like forever. As we entered another hall, I became very anxious. How could I be so stupid? Cain said that Jordan would be escorting me and some other inmates. Why was I the only one chosen from the crowd? For all I know this guy could be taking me someplace private so that he could pop a bullet through my brain. 

I peered at him as we turned a corner. He had a grim expression on his face as his tongue skimmed over his lower lip in concentration. He payed me no mind and looked straight  ahead. 

"Where are you taking me?" I questioned.

No answer.

"I asked you a question," I growled, already feeling irritated. His attention flickered over my face, and then over my mouth, and then over my eyes. The way he did it sent a shiver down my spine. His action was not flirtatious, but almost like a threat.  

"Yes," he smiled dangerously, "Yes, you did. Unfortunately, I don't answer to you." He points at a door to my left. "In there."

When I go through the doors, I am welcomed with plain gray walls and a small table in the center of the room. The room was a small, square shaped structure with a row of windows going across the walls. I spot an ebony women on the other side of the transparent glass talking to another figure. 

Lost in my thoughts, I had no intentions of going any further inside. In fact, my very plan was to play dead and give them no choice but to take me somewhere else. I changed my mind when I felt Jordan's hot breath at the nape of my neck.

"Why am I here?"

"Early Christmas present," he smirked knowingly, "you have five minutes."

Five minutes to do what? The women with the ebony skin notices me and my new correctional officer. She points a wrinkled finger in my direction and motions for the anonymous person to follow her gaze. Seconds later, another entrance inside of the room creaks open and is followed by the sound of footsteps. Before I could check out the source, Jordan brings me to the small table and forces me to sit down on a worn-out, wooden chair. 

He leans down so that his lips almost graze my earlobe, "Don't do anything stupid or I swear I will not hesitate to shoot you through these windows." 

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