"I’m not sure what you think you’re going to get out of him, Tasia," a muttering from a man standing behind the glass, beside him a bombshell blonde. The bombshell, Tasia, was anything but what her face and body betrayed. This woman was a viper that didn’t hide under the rocks.
"It doesn’t matter," Tasia replied with a twisting of her cherry red lips, then a pucker as she stared through the glass. "I want him to suffer for what he’s done."
The man hands lifted, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “But he can’t even feel it. I don’t really understand having him in there and doing this to him if he can’t feel it. Why don’t you kill him and be done with it?”
Tasia’s perfectly shaped eyebrows inched higher on her forehead, her baby blue eyes (that she had used many of times to get what she wanted) fixed on the man beside her — Hunter. Hunter annoyed her and always had. “He might not feel it, but he can still understand what is going on and know why this is happening. Besides,” she whispered, “.. he knows why." And sometimes that’s all that was needed.
"Do you think he cares why, Tasia? Sascha isn’t going to develop a conscience over this," Hunter informed her. "And it’s not like you can take anything from him." He pinched the bridge of his nose tighter, this woman was going to be the end of him— he was sure of it. "He never lets anyone close, his family is dead and the one person he would die for is untouchable and hardly our concern."
"I don’t want him dead, Hunter," Tasia cooed while her delicate hand pressed to the glass. "I want him to remember me, always. I want him to live with this, not die. I want Sascha to live a very long time.”
"If I didn’t know any better," Hunter interjected, "I would think that you’re in love with this piece of shit." Hunter followed Tasia’s gaze and sneered at seeing Sascha within the small room, sitting at a table with his tattooed fingers tapping on the desk’s surface.
“You don’t know anything,” Tasia whispered without averting her gaze from Sascha. “You don’t know anything about me. Or him. And he’s waiting for me,” she added, then left Hunter’s side to walk through the door that opened to Sascha’s confines.
"You bitch," Hunter hissed while following Tasia’s stride to Sascha, watching her delicate hands, fingers that were meant for him, grasping Sascha’s face within them.
Hunter growled as he turned and stalked off down the long, barely lit hallway and away from Tasia and her obsession.