“Where is he?” I asked Officer Blevins.
With an expression of relief that I had finally arrived, he stated, “Cell two eighteen.”
I gestured for him to follow me. “Walk with me. Tell me what happened.”
Barry matched me step for step, gesturing frantically with his hands, as we made our way to Chris’s cell. “I don’t know. I was filling out some paperwork right before I was leaving to go home when they radioed me. I got down here and he was just freaking out. He wouldn’t talk. I thought maybe you might know what’s going on with him.”
I thought back to the events of the day. Nothing really sprang to mind. “Hmm, well, he got to make his first phone call home today. Maybe it has something to do with that,” I speculated.
Barry nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”
By that time we had reached Chris’ cell. Barry put his hand on my shoulder. “Sorry I called you at home so late. I just didn’t want to have to call medical.”
Calling medical meant a heavy dose of sedatives would be injected into Chris’s body, and he’d be down for the count. In some cases it was necessary, but we needed to get to the bottom of Chris’s tirade. Knocking him out wouldn’t help him sort out his emotions at all.
Barry put his hand on my shoulder. Encouraging me, he continued, “You’ll get him to calm down. I just know it.”
I nodded with uncertainty. Considering my experience with Malik, my confidence in myself was staggering. “I’ll see what I can do.” I took a deep breath and turned toward the big, metal door that led into Chris’s cell. I slid open tiny metal slot on the door. Peeking through the miniscule door, I meekly called out to him, “Chris?”
He stood in the far corner of the cell, barely responding to the sound of my voice. His face was red with anger, and the tears streaking down his cheeks clenched my heart. I didn’t know what was going on, but I had to help him. He slumped his shoulders, relaxing them the instant he heard my voice. Hopefully my presence alone was calming him. But a moment later, he slammed himself against the concrete wall of his cell with a howling cry.
“Chris, talk to me,” I pleaded, the desperation in my voice unmasked.
“Why?” he howled, his voice gruff with emotion as he punched the wall with his fist. Tiny red droplets were already splattered on the tile beneath him.
I flinched. My heart raced, and I clutched my chest. To see him hurt himself like that scared me. Watching his blood drip from his fingers, I remembered the feeling I had that day in my car when I saw the blood caused by my own hand. Relief from the emotional pain was replaced by physical pain.
His knuckles were bloody, ravaged by the concrete wall. Apparently, he’d already used the wall as his punching bag. Glaring at me, his voice went low. Eerily low. “Why should I? What’s the point?”
I kept my voice soothing and consoling, as I spoke, “I can help you.”
“No!” he barked, his eyes becoming void. “You can’t!” Another guttural growl escaped him as he thrashed back and forth in the tiny cell, pounding his body into the wall again with powerful force.
I had no choice. If I didn’t do something quickly the officers would be forced to call medical and Chris would soon be in a chemically induced slumber with no emotional sorting to show for it.
“I’m coming in,” I warned him firmly.
He threw both hands out as if to stop me, crying, “No! You can’t help me!”
I glanced at Officer Blevins who looked apprehensive because of Chris’s demeanor, but he knew there was no other choice. I had to take my chance. It was this or the sedative.
He nodded once and unlocked the metal door. Taking a deep breath, I took a step inside. Barry stood right behind me, poised to react if I needed him. I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about how Chris would respond.
Chris’s fists were clenched by his sides, jaw twitching. His anguished, stormy eyes were fixed on mine. Heaving breaths caused his chest to rise and fall quickly. Dripping with sweat, his wet hair was stuck to his forehead. Nostrils flared while the veins in his neck bulged.
I gulped, nervously glancing toward Barry as he locked the door behind us. He nodded, encouraging me. Standing a little straighter, I quickly returned my gaze to Chris and caught his glare. But, it wasn’t a look of anger. It was pain. Those dark, swirling eyes were full of unfathomable pain.
“Chris, please…” I took a step toward him, raising my hands to show my defenselessness as I blatantly ignored the wild, erratic heart thumping in my chest.
“You can’t help me,” he bit out, staring me down as if ready for a fight.