by Dee Garcia
Me: I am. What’s up?
Kass: I bored af lol.
Kass: **I’m
Me: It’s midnight lol go to sleep.
Kass: I can’t.
Me: Why?
Kass: I’m drunk nd superrrrrrhorny.
My face scrunches up in slight disgust. It’s not Kass—I just can’t do it. I’m not remotely in the mood. If anything, I’m the one who needs to go to sleep. Although, I’m not sure I’m not going to be getting much of that if I’m being honest. I’m so used to staying up until about one or two talking to Benni.
My little jailbird.
My Birdy girl.
Mi bebé.
“Fuck,” I hiss, dropping my head between my shoulders, the phone almost slipping from my grip as I cycle through another wave of what I can only describe as the beginnings of grief.
This blows. This blows so fucking hard it’s not even funny. But it is what it is. It has to be done. It’s either this or me quitting, and I can’t do that, not after being questioned the way I was. It’ll look sus, and I don’t need them trying to come after me at some point down the line. I’m not worried that shit wouldn’t check out. I am innocent in that respect, after all, but it’s an unnecessary ordeal I’d like to avoid altogether. I’m just gonna have to stick it out and hope for the best.
Another text has me flipping over the phone to find a gif from Kass. It’s Mr. Bean waggling his eyebrows as he slides off frame. Chuckling quietly, I type out a quick response.
Me: Lolll. I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to handle yourself tonight, pretty girl. I’m beat. Heading to bed. GN.
Setting the phone to charge on my nightstand, I practically rip off the buttons of my uniform shirt and shrug it off before balling it up and free-throwing over my shoulder into the hamper by the dresser. Well, almost. It misses by an inch. I don’t even bother taking off my pants, sliding beneath the navy comforter and shutting off the light just as another text from Kass comes in.
Kass: BOo, you suck. Fine, go to sleep. I’ll schedule my duck appt w you tomorrow.
Kass: **dick
That one actually makes me laugh out loud, so much that I send her a little duck emoji back. She replies with an eye roll and: Shup up, you know what I meant.
Kass: **Shut
Kass: Fuck I can’t tYpe.
Me: ‘Cause you’re drunk lol. Go to sleep, Drunky McSkunky.
I try to do the same shortly after that, but as predicted, sleep evades me for most of the night, leaving me to toss and turn before dozing off for half an hour, and then doing it all over again. The memories aren’t what plague me most, but what my note is going to do to her when she reads it. By the time 4 a.m. rolls around, my alarm blaring loud and proud, I think I’ve slept a grand total of two hours, maybe three.
How I’m going to get through the day in this state, I’m not sure, but I can’t avoid it. It’s time to get this over with and do the right thing. I just wish I didn’t have to break her heart in the process.
That almost-ex of hers, whoever he is, hurt her enough as it is.
You got this.
You can do this.
It’s for the best.
I must’ve repeated those words to myself dozens of times since I dragged my ass out of bed. I psyched myself up all throughout my shower, while I was getting ready, and the entire drive to the Annex. I told myself Pops would agree this is what needed to be done if he knew what the situation was. But even with that knowledge in mind and the tiny balled up note burning a hole through my damn pocket, I’m stalling, have been tucked away in the box since I clocked in, and I haven’t dared to step foot out into the block once. I’ll have to eventually, I know, but I’m fucking dreading it.
I don’t want to break her heart.
The worst part is she’s off today too. I can see her from here at her usual table, playing dominoes with her friends. She’s been searching for me like a hawk, eyes shooting to the gate every time the buzzer sounds with someone going in or out. I don’t even think she knows I’m here. By the time she came out of her cell dressed and ready for the day, I was already in the safety of the bubble, watching her go through the same procedures she does day in and day out as if I weren’t about to ruin everything.
“You’re quiet today, Bala. Everything all right?” Walker asks from behind one of the computers.
When I pull my eyes away from Benni and glance his way, he’s staring at me pensively from over the rim of his glasses.
Nodding, I stretch out over the back of my chair, a monstrous yawn bursting its way out of my mouth. Perfect timing. “Yeah, man, I’m good. Just tired as hell. I slept like shit last night.”
“Mmm, I understand that. I have plenty of those nights myself. Sucks getting old, I’ll tell you that much,” he muses, inputting what’s on the report in his hand into the computer.
“You can say that again.” I’m nowhere near as old as he is, and I feel that statement in my soul.
No one warned me turning thirty could be this brutal. Actually, I’m almost positive everyone told me the opposite: that thirty is the new twenty. Yeah, about that... There are days I wake up, and shit hurts that I didn’t know existed. Sleeping with the wrong pillow is sure to leave a kink in my neck. Fast food is no longer my friend, either, and I can pass out at any given moment if I close my eyes for too long. It’s kinda pathetic and not what I signed up for. I’d like to cancel my subscription and get a—
The door to the box flies open, and in comes Jordan with an extra pep in his step. Five bucks says he’s about to take another break. That’d be number two or three for the day, and it’s only eleven.
“Bala, buddy,” he jests like the fucking roid-loving asshole he is, strolling up to where I’m sitting. “I have to go get Reynoso from Seg. Can you man the block until I get back?
My blood runs ice-cold at the mention of heading out there, but I manage to keep myself in check. After all, I knew it was coming, and it’s not like I have a choice.
“Sure,” is all I offer him as I rise from my seat and try sidestepping his beefy ass, but he holds an arm out to block my exit, forcing me to stop and look him in the eye.
“My bad about yesterday, man. Seriously. It was wrong of me to assume you had anything to do with any of it when you’ve been nothing but a great addition to our team.”
He’s so full of shit, but I nod regardless and push past his blockade. “Don’t sweat it. It’s all good.”
I don’t give a fuck how he feels about that—if he thinks it’s genuine or not. He and Mack are one and the same, and our vibes just don’t jive. I’ll be professional and interact as necessary, but that’s about it. I’m not here to be their friend, nor do I want to be. On the contrary, I still plan to watch them with a close eye and rebuild that case I was initially hoarding information for when I first started.
Shaky hand on the knob, I suck in a deep breath and push out into the cellblock with Jordan not far behind. He claps me on the shoulder before heading toward the gate, leaving to rein in my emotions as my eyes lock with hers. She seems surprised to see me coming out of the box, stilling in her seat with domino in hand. Relief washes over her features, the smallest smile quirking the corners of her lips, but I don’t return it.
I can’t.
A single hitch in my façade, and I won’t be able to do this.
Shifting my focus off of her, I start my way casually around the block, passing cell after cell in no particular hurry. Once I drop that note, there’s no going back. Every step closer to hers jacks up my heart rate to an erratic hammering, my stomach churning almost painfully. A sheen of sweat clings to my skin, too. That’s how nervous I am. How fucking devastated I am that I have to do this, that I have to hurt her. All the while, she’s watching me, honed in on every single move I make. I can all but hear her questions, can feel her uncertainty rolling toward me in anxious waves.
I’m so sorry, I think to myself as I stop right before her cell, eyes squeezing sh
ut as I snake a hand into my pocket and trap the note in my fist, bracing myself for the blow. I’m sinking to my feet after that, letting the small ball slip free from my grip as I fuck with the laces of my boots. To anyone else, it looks like I’m just tying my shoes, but she knows. I know she knows I’m up to something, and when I’m certain she’s spotted the note beside me, I steal a quick glance around the block and rise to full height once more, gently kicking the ball past the threshold before continuing on as I was prior. Other than Benni, no one else paying attention to me, not a thing seems out of place.
Well, for everyone and everything else.
Me? I’m ready to fall apart now that I’ve left the note behind, raging like hellfire on the inside. My stomach’s spinning and compressing almost at the same time. And my heart? That motherfucker feels like he’s about to slam right through my chest.
This is gonna hurt. This is gonna hurt really fucking bad.
But as I’ve been reminding myself since last night, it has to be this way. We were risking way too much for stolen moments that were never supposed to be.
♫ Coming Down - Halsey
Something’s wrong.
Something’s really fucking wrong.
I didn’t even know Andrés was here today. I’d been looking for him all morning, desperately needing one of his dimpled smiles and a stolen kiss after the shitty night I had fretting over Lena, but after seeing all the other guards clock in for their shifts, I assumed he was off for the day, told myself I’d see him tomorrow as usual.
But then he emerged from the box with Jordan hustling out right behind him, and what relief I felt in finally seeing him instantly melted away when I realized the face that greeted me was not of the man I’d fallen for. There wasn’t a smile to be seen—not even the tiniest quirk of his lips. Physically it was him, but everything else was that of a cold stranger as if he were any other guard and not someone I’d let into my heart.
From the box and around the block, I watched him stride past each cell of the lower level. Every step he made closer to mine somehow matched the uneasy tempo of my heartbeat, the hairs on my arms rigid at attention. What is happening? That’s all I could think to myself as dread slowly began creeping in from the shadows, as I hoped with every fiber of my being that this was simply him taking extra precautions with everything else currently going on.
Said hope was quickly obliterated, though, when I saw the little ball roll free from his hand as he bent down to seemingly tie his boots. Nothing about his demeanor changed, harsh lines of his face firmly in place, and much like yesterday afternoon, I stopped breathing all over again, a bone-rattling shiver working its way down my spine.
A shiver I’m still feeling the effects of right now as my stare remains glued on that tiny balled-up note. I’m both eager and anxious to go retrieve it, but there’s no way I can just get up and rush over there. It’ll be way too suspicious. I have to play it smart now more than—
“Birdy, it’s your turn,” Quinn states, pulling me out from the one-way tunnel vision holding me captive.
A shake of my head, and I’m literally having to force myself to turn back in my seat as the note continues taunting me from my cell. It’s searing a damn hole through the side of my head. “Right, my bad,” I reply, mindlessly laying down another tile.
We go around two more times before the uncertainty of it all becomes too unbearable for me to focus. I’m winning this round, and I honestly couldn’t care less. All I wanna know is what’s in that note, what’s wrong with him, why he’s left it? I mean, I know the phone was confiscated, leaving us no way to communicate, but still… There has to be a reason.
Dragging my gaze around the room as nonchalantly as possible, I note Andrés is far enough away at this point—nearing the other side of the block—that it shouldn’t raise any red flags if I were to get up and saunter into my cell.
So I do, excusing myself from the table with a simple, “I’ll be right back.”
My brain screams for me to run, desperation starting to leak through rationality, but I keep my stride steady, breathing through the anxious wave wearing on my nerves. Once I’m in my cell, though, I snatch up the note quickly and dive into my bunk as I go about unballing it with shaky hands. The first thing I notice is that it’s not long, nothing but a single sentence.
The second? How I regret my decision to have read it in the first place.
We can’t do this anymore.
I read it again and again and again, positive my mind is playing tricks on me after not sleeping shit last night, but nothing changes. My world was already spinning out of control, all of it unfolding in a span of days, and now it’s crashing down completely.
I knew something was wrong...
Was it something I did, something I didn’t do? Was it yesterday’s sweep and the fact they found the phone? Does he think I’m going to rat him out?
Did he really not believe me when I gave him my word?
These are just some of the questions floating through my mind as white-hot tears begin to stream down my face. I couldn’t stop them if I tried, much less hold them back. They’re falling of their own accord, the dam of pure, harrowing grief busting wide open, drowning me in its treacherous depths. Between Ma’s diagnosis, the Ryker ordeal, Koko and Franca banding together, Lena being thrown in the hole, and the huge possibility that Counselor Judge has already ripped apart my early release papers, I can’t handle any more.
I just can’t.
I can’t handle this.
I’d been afraid it would happen all along, and now, here we are in real-time. It’s happening, regardless of the fact I can’t understand how or why, when everything was perfectly fine just yesterday, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t go out there and make a scene, can’t demand answers from him. I can’t do anything except sit here and lick my wounds, both new and old. The one I can’t reach?
My heart.
Feels like there’s a giant gaping hole in my chest, all those years of trying to repress what I felt over Ángel’s betrayal flooding back to the forefront and melding with this fresh, new wave of agony left in Andrés’ wake. Our time together wasn’t long, but that doesn’t make it any less excruciating. It’s so excruciatingly painful that I’m folding in on myself, a hand sealed over my mouth to muffle the sobs I’m just barely subduing.
Why? Why is he doing this?
You’d think it couldn’t get worse, right? Wrong, so fucking wrong. That obnoxious-ass buzzer resounds through the block, and I hear it, I do, but I’m so lost in the throes of this never-ending shitshow that it doesn’t really register until I hear a throat clearing.
Watery eyes snapping open in tandem with my head popping upright, I find Lena standing at the threshold of our cell. She looks nothing short of exhausted, yet her expression is alarmingly blank. The fire blazing in her eyes, though? I can’t bear it, tossing the note aside and rushing to embrace her.
But she wants no part of it, holding a hand out before I can wrap my arms around her.
I skid to a stop just a few feet away, all the air whooshing from my lungs like she’s just kicked me in the gut. “Lena, please, listen to me,” I start, but there’s that hand again keeping me at arm’s length as she turns her head away from me.
“Don’t fucking Lena me,” she grits venomously. “I just spent almost an entire day in Seg for your ass, and you know what else I got?”
She’s still not looking at me, but I shake my head, my heart imploding and shattering for the second time in the span of minutes.
“More time.” Her voice comes deathly quietly. “They’re gonna add more fucking time to my already long-ass sentence because I took the fall for you.”
She WHAT?
My jaw nearly tumbles to the floor, knees threatening to buckle as the gravity of that statement consumes me. Those damned tears hadn’t stopped flowing, but they’re really gushing down my face like twin waterfalls now. “Why would you do that? Why would you tell them
it was yours? You should’ve told them—”
“Told them what? That it was yours instead when you’ve got early release on the table? You know I don’t snitch, Benni, ever,” she tosses back, eyes narrowing as they snap right on me, and while I know that’s true—it’s one of the things we bonded over when we first met—I’m still astonished.
Choking on more guilt than I can swallow.
“But why would you tell them it was yours? I don’t understand—”
“I didn’t,” she snaps, effectively cutting me off again. “I didn’t say shit. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Given where you had it stashed, it looked like it was mine.”
My eyes widen in realization. The bunk post—that’s why Mack didn’t write it off as mine. “Lena, I… I didn’t even think about—”
“Yeah, no shit, puta. You didn’t think about anyone but yourself. Now I’m the one that’s gonna pay the price while you get to walk free!” Lunging for me, she shoves me back, hard.
Hard enough that I stumble when I hadn’t even seen it coming.
I don’t retaliate, though. I know I deserve that and so much more. “No, I won’t let that happen. I’ll come clean right now, tell them it was mine. I’ll fix this, Lena, I swear to you. I’m not gonna let you go down for something you had nothing to do—”
Lena growls in frustration, and before I can dodge, her fist makes contact with my nose, a move I should have seen coming after that shove. White speckles dot my vision as my entire face sings from the force of her strike.
“I wanna hate you so bad!” She punches me again, intensifying the effects I’m already feeling. “But I can’t, and that’s what makes me maddest!”
Another blow follows, this time right beneath my eye, and I take it. I take each one ‘cause I truly do deserve it.
But that’s not what Selena wants...
