by Sophia Gray
Meanwhile, he'd just have to try to get through this mess one step at a time. And the first step was not to act from fear by trying to kill a couple of Sinners. That wouldn't solve his problems, no matter how much Ram insisted that it would.
Hank glanced at the table where the Shepherds were eating together, and briefly considered trying to join them. They were the only other group in Bluebonnet who allowed people of his color to join, and there were so many of them, they might be able to protect him. Maybe they could even help him think of a way out of this shitstorm.
He chuckled to himself, returning to the food on his tray. It would never work. From the way Dutton had looked at him, Hank knew he'd sized him up as an unrepentant outlaw. Someone like Dutton wouldn't be fooled by a cock-and-bull story about how Hank had suddenly seen the light and become a do-gooder. He'd give another “stand up and be a man” sermon, no doubt, but he wouldn't stick his neck out for the likes of Hank.
A few tables away from the Shepherds, the Knights and Warriors were eating together. Most of the Aryans were leering at Hank, and several of them whispered and laughed among themselves. Ram drew his index finger across his throat in a “You're dead” gesture. The Warriors looked more subdued, and Speed Bump had a look of concern on his face.
Hank could almost hear Speed Bump's thoughts from across the room: Do it. Just do what they say. Go along to get along. I know it sucks, but it worked for me, and it can work for you too.
Hank hoped Bump could hear his thoughts in return: You're a coward. Fuck you.
He finished his bland meal, and the men were rounded up to head back to cell block G. As they got there, an alarm started blaring, and Butler rushed in with a dozen other COs.
“Lock down! Lock down! Get in your cells right now, and put your backs up against the walls.”
Hank hurried into his cell, with Ram right behind him. He waited for the barred doors to slide shut, but instead, he heard a cadre of guards going from cell to cell and searching them carefully. The rest stood in the center of the cell block, making sure the inmates stayed against the walls.
“What the fuck is this now?” Hank asked.
“Gee, roomie, I don't know,” Ram answered teasingly. “Maybe a couple of Sinners got sliced and diced real bad. Maybe the hacks just found the body, and now they're looking for the murder weapon.”
A horrible thought crept into Hank's head as he looked at his own mattress. He started toward it, but one of the guards smacked her baton against the bars. “Get the fuck back against the wall, before I put your head through it.”
Ram smirked. “Easy there, killer. You heard them. Unless you've got something to hide...?”
Butler swaggered into their cell a few minutes later. He gave Hank a toothy smile as he lifted the lower mattress, revealing a bloody shiv.
“Well, well, look what we have,” Butler sneered. The other guards moved to grab Hank, dragging him out.
“That isn't mine. Someone else put it there.”
Butler threw his head back and laughed. “Now that's one I've never heard before.”
“Look at me, asshole,” Hank said, gesturing to his injured arm and ribs. “Do I look like I'm in any shape to use that thing?”
“So I guess elves just flew into your cell and planted it, huh? Save it, pal. I’ve got two dead inmates and a bloody shiv. You're headed to the hole. What shape you're in when you get there is up to you.”
So Hank let himself get led to the lowest level of Bluebonnet, where thick iron doors lined a narrow concrete hallway. Butler threw him into the last cell on the left, and the door slammed hard behind him—a sound like fate itself.
“Now you just stay there and behave yourself,” Butler said through the grated slit on the door, “and if you're a real good boy, I'll send some guys down later to tuck you in.”
Then he was gone, and Hank was alone to wonder what disaster would strike next.
Chapter 27
Beth
News traveled fast in prison, and Beth heard about what happened to Hank less than an hour after the Ad-Seg door shut behind him. She heard DiNovi tell Lindhurst, but from the smug look on DiNovi's face and the way his eyes kept flickering over to her, she could tell the news was really meant for her.
Her heart felt like it had been replaced by a cannonball. Stealing a few private moments with Hank in the infirmary or the stairwell was one thing, but Ad-Seg was kept under tight watch, due to the dangerous men down there. There were plenty of surveillance cameras, and the COs who were posted there were loyal to Butler. If she tried to visit Hank or even get a message to him, she'd be found out immediately.
Worse, she knew that plenty of “accidents” and “suicides” had previously claimed the lives of inmates in Ad-Seg. It wasn't difficult for a group of guards—either on orders from a gang, or just for their own amusement—to cheat the cameras, string someone up or slit their wrists, then act surprised when the convict was found dead the next morning.
Hank had been thrown into the most hazardous part of Bluebonnet, and there was no way for her to protect him or even try to comfort him. Her mind kept flashing gory images of Butler and his men savaging Hank in a million different ways.
When her shift ended, Beth went to the womens' locker room and changed out of her uniform, desperately trying to think of a solution that would get her and Hank out of there as soon as possible. But her thoughts were clouded by the previous night.
She needed to pick up a pregnancy test on the way home today to be sure, but if it was positive, she couldn't imagine what she'd do next. She'd done some quick research online and found out that female COs who got pregnant were able to work in prisons right up to maternity leave—but they were given light duty far from the inmates, to prevent lawsuits.
In other words, she'd be banished to some department where she wouldn't be able to help Hank, or see him, even if he magically found a way out of the hole.
Once she'd crisply folded her uniform, Beth reached for her civilian clothes and noticed something tucked under them. She reached under, picked it up, looked at it for half a second—and then gasped and tossed it away quickly, as though it were a venomous spider.
It was a small plastic bag filled with jagged beige rocks of crack cocaine.
“Why, Officer D'Amato,” a voice behind her drawled. “Shame on you.”
Beth turned, putting her hands over her body protectively. She was still in her bra and panties. Captain Butler was leaning against the lockers with his huge arms folded in front of him. His scarred lip was twisted upward in a smile.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Beth hissed angrily. “You're not supposed to be in the women's locker room! I could report you for this.”
Butler shrugged. “But I'm not in the women's locker room. I'm at the other end of the prison, with four other guards who could testify to that effect. So it'd be my word against yours, and once they found all that rock you've got there, who on earth would believe you?”
“That's not mine, and you know it.”
“How do I know that? It's in your locker. It's got your fingerprints on it. And if anyone looks into your background closely enough, they'll find out you're connected to the Warriors. So one plus one equals a guard getting paid to smuggle narcotics into a correctional facility. How do you think that'll end for you? Once you're locked away in some other prison, how long do you think it'll take the other girls on the cell block to find out you were a CO? How long do you think you'll survive?”
“Anyone could see through that,” Beth replied. “Everyone knows the Warriors in here don't do drugs, and they don't sell them, either.”
“You think any of those details are going to matter? You think when these things go to trial, people give a hoot about what goes on between guards and convicts? They don't care. They don't want to hear about it. 'Out of sight, out of mind,' that's how the average person feels about prisons. The judge will smack his gavel, send you to the slam, and then go back to cases involving rea
l people.”
Beth sighed. “Fine. So what is this? Because we both know if you were really going to turn me in for what you planted in my locker, you wouldn't be standing there crowing about it.”
“You're right. I'm not planning to tell anyone about it this time. This is just a warning, and lady, you'd better believe it's your last one. No more stuff like what happened in the showers. No more sticking your neck out for Hank. If I even suspect you're daydreaming about helping him, you're going to be in cuffs and doing the perp walk faster than you can say 'Harley Davidson.' Am I being fairly clear?”
Beth swallowed hard, then nodded.
“Good,” Butler grunted, turning to leave. “Now get out of here. And get rid of that bag.”
Once he was gone, Beth put on her clothes, staring hatefully at the crack rocks. She supposed she'd have to flush them when she got home, but the idea of having them in the car with her while she drove was unnerving. What if she got pulled over? What if they decided to search her car for some reason, or no reason at all?
Goddamn you, Butler, she thought fiercely. I'll make you pay for this. I don't know how, but somehow, someday, I'll find a way to wipe that smirk off your ugly face.
She walked out to the parking lot, turned on her car, and carefully circled it to make sure all of the lights were working. Then she drove home, making sure to stay at least five miles below the speed limit.
She didn't stop to pick up the pregnancy test.
Instead, she went straight home, tossed the rocks into the toilet, flushed it...then vomited and flushed it again.
Chapter 28
Beth
When Beth woke up the next morning, she cursed herself for not buying the pregnancy test. Her fear of being pulled over the previous day seemed silly now, compared to the panic of not knowing whether there was a baby growing inside her.
Nothing for it now, though. She wouldn't have another chance to get one until that evening, after her shift. She briefly contemplated buying one on the way into work and running the test in the bathroom, but she was too concerned about being watched. For all she knew, Butler could have the other guards spying on her, and they might find the results in the trash and use them against her somehow. She didn't know how, but she'd become accustomed to the idea that these people would find a way to use just about anything against her.
Besides, whatever the results were, she couldn't allow herself to be distracted by them today. Not when she was trying to formulate a plan. She had the beginning of an idea, but it would be extremely risky, and it could even open her up to additional threats to her well-being.
Still, she had to try. She had to do something. If she remained passive and let bad things keep happening to her instead of going on the offensive, she knew she'd go insane.
She drove to Bluebonnet and changed into her uniform in the locker room again. This time, she was careful to make sure she was alone, and she searched her locker for any more contraband that might have been planted there. She didn't find any.
Once she checked in for her shift at cell block G, Beth went through her usual routine of ferrying inmates to and from the showers until all of them had had a chance to clean themselves. Then she casually stopped by Roberto Torres's cell, where he was playing checkers with his cellmate.
“Let's go, Torres. Dr. Spector wants to see you.”
Roberto raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What for, bitch?”
Beth let the epithet roll off her. She heard it at least a hundred times a day in here. “Something about your vaccination records. Come on.”
Roberto stood up, pointing a finger at his cellmate. “Don't even think of movin' the fuckin' pieces, maricon. I got 'em all memorized.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the cellmate said, waving him away.
Beth led Roberto to the stairwell where she'd first spoken with Hank after he got to Bluebonnet. She kept a hand on her baton at all times, aware of how easy it would be for Roberto to try to surprise her with an attack.
“Yeah, I didn't think you was bringin' me to no doctor,” Roberto smirked, looking her up and down as he licked his lips. “So, you down to fuck, or what? There's rumors that you already fucked at least one of the cons in here. Most folks think it was Bull. You wanna see how that little white pecker holds up against some primo Latin dick?”
“I never fucked a prisoner,” Beth lied, “and I damn sure won't be starting with you. I need to talk to you about something important.”
Roberto rolled his eyes. “So talk, puta. I got nothin' but time up in here.”
“I know you think Hank killed two of your guys, and I'm sure you've got some kind of big-time payback in mind. But you should know that you're being played. The Nazis framed Hank so you'd paint a target on him.”
“Why the fuck would I believe that? He's been runnin' with 'em ever since he got here.”
“He didn't have a choice. He didn't know the Warriors were bowing down for the Aryans in here. He needed protection, but when he found out what they did to your brother, he got pissed. Then they ordered him to carve a couple of your guys to send you a message, and he refused.”
Roberto cocked his head mockingly. “Aw. You mean he stuck his neck out, just for us?”
“That's what I'm telling you. The Knights took out your guys and stuffed the shiv under Hank's mattress, knowing you'd go after him.”
“Cute story,” Roberto said. “Too bad it's probably bullshit.”
“Dammit, Torres, don't you care that you're being manipulated? That if you take Hank out, you're playing right into Bull's hands?”
“Okay. Assuming I believe you—which I don't—what the fuck am I supposed to do about it?”
Beth took a deep breath, praying this would work. “Put Hank under your protection. Make sure the Sinners know not to touch him, and spread the word so the Knights won't make a play for him either.”
Roberto threw his head back, laughing. “Lady, it sounds like I oughtta be buyin' my drugs from you. That's how fuckin' high you sound right now. You really think I'm gonna go tell my guys that from now on, some white boy is under our protection? That we're gonna stick our necks out for some biker?”
“What will it take? Money? I can get you money.”
He shook his head, still snorting with laughter. “An ask like that? Fuck money. You'd have to start doin' errands for me an' my guys, like you been doin' for Bull an' them skinheads. Oh, an' you'd have to give us some of that sweet pussy you got, too. Then maybe—maybe—I'd consider it. Otherwise, you're wastin' my fuckin' time.”
“So you're fine with doing Bull Packard's dirty work, is that it? How's that going to look?”
“It'll look like exactly what it looks like—Hank got busted for cuttin' my guys, so we responded in kind. No one's gonna look into that shit any more closely, an' no one's gonna believe your white conspiracy theory-peddlin' ass.”
Fuck, Beth thought. This backfired in a big way. Not only has Roberto refused to help, but now that I've met with him secretly and asked him for help, he can hold that over my head, too.
“Fine,” Beth said gruffly. “Guess it's back to the cell for you, then.”
“Yeah, sure, that sounds good. I got a game to finish anyhow. Oh, an' D'Amato?” Roberto winked. “Thanks for confirmin' that you did fuck a prisoner after all. I was sure it was Bull, but yeah, I guess Hank makes sense too, the way you swung into the showers to protect 'im.”
“I told you, I never—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Roberto chuckled. “Sure you didn't.”
Beth led Roberto back to his cell. Her legs felt like they had lead weights tied to them. She only had one more thing left to try, and if that didn't work, she didn't know what she'd do.
During her lunch break, Beth went to the prison library, trying to stay out of sight. She didn't know who might be tracking her movements, especially after her failed plea to Roberto.
Since Dutton Greene was considered a model prisoner, he was allowed to run the library, and he'd chosen several ot
her Shepherds to work there with him. He could generally be found there, and if he wasn't there himself, it would be easy to get a message to him through one of the others.
But sure enough, Dutton was there, pushing the squeaky metal cart up and down the aisles as he re-shelved books.
“You're here to ask for my help in protecting Hank Hall, aren't you?” he asked as she approached him.
“How did you know?”
“You already went to the Sinners for assistance. Not surprising, given your personal history with Hall. You see the noose tightening around his neck—and yours—and you're desperate for a way out for both of you.”
