» Comment and let me know what you think of the chapter, so excited for your guys' thoughts. Just know that it'll take me longer to update the chapters now since they're going to be longer than in the first book. Enjoy! «

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If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself three years ago. She could almost touch those carefree moments where she didn't have to worry about the near future or about her financial status. Now she wished that she'd appreciated that time more.

But that was then and this is now.

When Lamees opened her tired eyes again, she could see the clear guilt and frustration on his face. He was sitting from across her and didn't seem to look at her directly, more like he was gazing at her shoulder or something above her head. His cheeks seemed hollowed already, even though he'd only been behind bars for twelve hours approximately. His eyes were red and he kept blinking, like he was afraid to burst into tears in front of her.

Her fists clenched with the effort to keep her own tears at bay.

This was the boy she'd fallen in love with. A boy who'd only been seventeen when they'd first met but was now twenty. Not so much a boy anymore.

He'd grown taller over the years and his shoulders broader and he just seemed so much bigger now than before, that when she'd hugged him the last time, she'd felt that he could just as easily crush her, if he wanted to. But his eyes remained the same, always staring at her like he couldn't ever get enough of her and constantly looking for the silent emotions on her face, to figure out what was going on in her head.

When he looked at her now, her heart kept breaking. She licked her dry lips slowly and leaned forward, thinking of what to say.

It was quiet for a moment before she said, "They said that... that they found you with your knuckles bleeding and there was broken glass in your hands and fingers."

She waited for him to respond as her voice echoed in the empty room. He looked down at his feet and Lamees wished that she was closer to him. She hated the bullet proof glass that separated her from him. It only had four tiny holes through which they could hear each other.

When he didn't answer, she pressed on, wanting to know why he did what he did. The security guard had told her that she was only allowed ten minutes to visit him and to talk to him and she'd almost been unnerved when she thought about it all.

It all was so surreal. Gunner who wouldn't hurt anyone, was in jail for vandalism. Him. In jail. Gunner.

Even right now, she was having trouble believing it all and there was still a part of her that was in denial.

"Why did you do that?"

He didn't answer.

"Gun?" She spoke softly, the tears springing to her eyes. He bit his lower lip and his muscles tightened when he heard her call him by his nickname, something that she would keep only for their intimate moments.

He took a deep breath and finally looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracked and broken.

She saw the effort it was taking for him to hold it all together so she didn't interrupt him.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me... I was angry. I wasn't thinking straight and I started — I started kicking things and then breaking them. I don't even remember most of it."

"The cops said that you were drunk. And that you refused to cooperate with them," she stated quietly. "They said that you put up a fight."

He only nodded, the tears betraying him now as they fell down his cheeks.

"Do you know how long you're gonna be in-" her words stopped short and she found that she couldn't even say the word, jail. "-be in here?"

"They said eight months," he told her blankly and she shivered. That was almost a year. If twelve hours had caused him to look like he did now, what would the eight months in here do to him? She couldn't bear the thought and stood up from her stool.

She sighed and walked around the grey windowless room. There was only one metal door that was bolted and she knew there was a guard just outside, waiting to escort her back out when her time was up.

Gunner's side of the room was almost identical, windowless and had one door. No way for him to escape if he should ever try it. But outside his door though, there were two guards instead of one and they were armed in case he didn't go quietly. This place wasn't for him, he didn't deserve this. He was in a bad place at a bad time.

It seemed unfair to her that there were still rapists and murderers out there while someone who'd only lost his temper in public was the one being punished.

"You know, he should be the one in your place," she choked on the words, as if each one of them were strangling her from the inside.

She saw him flinch and his jaw tightened. Maybe it was a mistake mentioning him now. She went back to her stool and sat down.

She wanted to say so much but at the same time, she was at a loss for words. She was angry and furious, and lonely and broken and hurt and there was just so much going on, that it felt like she was drowning. And Gunner was drowning with her.

How did things become such a mess?

"Lamees?"

She jolted from her train of thought when he called her and met his eyes.

"I... are you gonna keep it?"

She froze. Seconds ticked by and she didn't have an answer for him. She wasn't moving.

"The baby, I mean." Gunner tried again, squeezing his eyes shut as if just referring to the baby caused him physical pain. And in a way, it did to her too.

The wound was still fresh and open and it hurt constantly. A quick memory resurfaced and she wanted to throw up suddenly. She was having trouble breathing.

Gunner called her name again but she couldn't hear him anymore. There was a loud ringing in her ears and she fought against the urge to scream. But it was rising. She could feel it again, feel him again. And it was wrong.

Oh God, it was so so wrong. And unfair. Why her? Why had it happened to her?

She heard someone screaming. Her vision was fading around the edges and she felt drained out all of a sudden. She fell down from her stool and onto the cool floor. She heard a thud of some kind and there was pain but she couldn't register where it was hurting, or whether it was even her body that hurt.

The last thing she saw before everything turned dark, were footsteps that came running towards her. And then it was blank.