Joe aimed the remote at the television and turned it off. Leaning back on the couch, he stared at the ceiling. His trial wouldn’t start until the day after tomorrow. He had met with his attorney, Andrew Worth, for the final time the previous afternoon. As much as he hated sitting at home doing nothing, he didn’t think he could sit through one more meeting. He knew Andrew was just doing his job, making sure Joe was well prepared for the trial. But sitting there day after day, listening to Andrew list all the evidence the prosecution had compiled against him and all the witnesses, most of whom Joe knew and had worked with at one time or another, who were ready to testify against him was more than he could take. Rather than prepare him for the trial, it had served instead to feed his fears.

Fear that Andrew would not be able to convince the jury of Joe’s innocence without additional evidence. Fear that Frank would not be able to uncover any evidence. Fear that he would be convicted and sentenced to prison. That one led to his biggest fear of all – the knowledge that if he were convicted and sent to prison he would be trapped. Trapped and waiting to die.

It wasn’t even the fact that he knew he would die there, eventually. Even if he never encountered anyone he had helped put there, the name ‘Hardy’ would be reason enough for any of the inmates to kill him. It was the waiting; the not knowing. When would it happen? Right away? His first night there? Or would they wait awhile; play mind games with him. If that were the case it would lead to one more fear. The fear of what he would be subjected to at the hands of the other inmates while he waited.

‘Why didn’t Frank call?’ Frank was the only one who could talk him out of these fears; or at least make them a lot less terrifying.

Joe raised his head and stared at the cell phone lying on the coffee table, willing it to ring. Frank had called him from Tucson that morning, telling Joe what he had planned for the day. Joe had no idea why he had been blessed with a brother like Frank, but he was eternally grateful. When he had to be out of town, Frank would call him every day, several times, keeping Joe informed of every single thing he did. He was trying to make Joe feel as if he were part of the investigation, when essentially, Joe was the one being investigated. Joe hoped Frank hadn’t been able to call because he was so busy gathering evidence he just didn’t have time. If that weren’t the case, Joe almost hoped Frank would lie to him and say it was. Joe needed something – anything – to calm his fears and give him some kind of hope.

Getting up, Joe wandered aimlessly through the apartment. Vanessa had left earlier to meet with Phil about a job he had in mind for her. He smiled recalling how she had been almost bouncing off the walls before she left. It was the first time she was venturing out alone since the rape. Joe wanted to go with her, but she insisted she had to go alone. This was a job interview, after all, she had told him. Even if Phil were a good friend, it just wouldn’t look professional for her fiancée to tag along and hold her hand. Vanessa had assured him she would be fine, and somehow he knew she would be. He was amazed at the progress she had made in such a short time. He occasionally worried it was too much too soon and she was heading for a big fall. What if it happened after the trial was over? What if, when it happened, he was in prison? Who would pick up the pieces for her? He shook his head, trying to make that thought disappear from his mind.

Finding himself in the bedroom, he stared at the framed photograph Vanessa kept on the nightstand. It was a photo of Joe and Vanessa from their vacation last year. They had gone to Antigua for a week with Frank and Callie.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he picked it up and gazed at it, smiling. They looked so happy together. Had that only been a year ago? He lay down on the bed staring at the picture, tracing the outline of Vanessa’s face with his finger. God, he loved her so much! He never told her that was the week he realized, with absolute certainty, that she was the one. It was the week he had made the decision to propose to her.

He had seen the envious glances she threw at Callie’s engagement ring. He had seen that special spark between Frank and Callie now that they had announced to the world they intended to spend the rest of their lives together. He wanted that same feeling for himself and Vanessa. He had realized ruefully that, as usual, he wanted to be just like his big brother.

It had taken him more than four more months to pick out a ring and work up the nerve to ask Vanessa to marry him. He was sure she would say yes…well, pretty sure. He had also needed to pump his father for information – details about the night his parents had gotten engaged – without letting on why he wanted to know. He wanted to keep his plans secret, on the off chance Vanessa turned him down. He had always remembered Vanessa’s reaction when his mother had related the story of that special night. He had decided right then and there if – when – he asked Vanessa to marry him, he wanted to re-create that same scenario just for her.

There were times he still couldn’t believe Vanessa had fallen in love with him. Despite his wandering eye, his incurable flirting, his sometimes oversized ego she was head over heels in love and completely devoted to him. A few times recently, he almost wished she had turned him down when he’d asked her to marry him. She would be safe now, and happy, instead of having to figure out how to spend the rest of her life coping with the trauma of rape. She might even be engaged to someone else by now. He could live with that…maybe.

He felt his eyelids growing heavy and desperately tried to stay awake. He dreaded sleep these days. With sleep came the dreams. With the dreams came the children; the abuse; the murderous inmates; the all-consuming terror; and the little boy. The hauntingly familiar little boy…

"NO!! Stop!" Joe screamed in terror. He sat up, looking frantically around the room. He looked to the end of the bed. The little boy was gone!

His heart was beating wildly, he was hyperventilating and he was scared to death. Slowly, Joe began to recognize his surroundings. He was at home, in his own bedroom.

‘A dream. It was just a dream!’ Joe heard a door open and shut and felt the panic threaten to take him completely.

"Joe?"

‘Vanessa!’ he exhaled loudly.

"Joe, are you home?" Vanessa called out.

She suddenly appeared in the doorway, smiling. However, after taking one look at Joe, her smile vanished. She rushed to the bed and sat down next to him.

"Honey, what happened? Are you all right?" she asked, extremely concerned. Taking in his appearance, she knew he’d just had another terrifying dream. He had broken out in a cold sweat, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, she could almost hear his heart pounding and his eyes…the fear and terror seemed to get worse with each dream.

Joe reached out and latched on to her as if his life depended on it. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, holding him tightly. Words were no longer a comfort to him when the nightmares came. She had to hold him until he felt safe, until he truly believed the horrible images were only in his dreams. He had stopped telling her the details but she knew the dreams were getting progressively worse. She could easily tell by the intensity of his reaction. Each time it took a little while longer before he could let go, before he felt secure enough to leave her embrace. This time it seemed to take forever. She had no idea how much time had passed before Joe finally loosened his grip on her.

Vanessa looked into his eyes and didn’t even bother to ask. There was no way he would talk about this one.

"How was the meeting?" Joe finally spoke. His voice was shaking, indicating the awful nightmare was far from being forgotten.

"Are you sure - " Vanessa began.

"Please, Van." Joe said in a terrified whisper. "Tell me everything. I need something else to focus on."

And so, Vanessa began to tell him about the meeting with Phil. She started out quietly, still concerned about Joe. As she went on though, she became more animated.

Joe watched her intently. He saw her lips moving, her hands waving in the air for emphasis. She smiled frequently; even laughed a few times. Joe didn’t hear a word she said. This time the dream had left him gripped by a fear he’d never had before.

‘And I’ve still got one more day before the trial starts.’ He thought.

One more day to contemplate his future – or his imminent death. He felt the walls closing in. He saw the little boy. He felt the whip on his back. He tried to focus on Vanessa – and failed.