Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  “Jesus, Lyla, that sounds terrible. Are you sure you want to go back?”

  That was the million-dollar question.

  Did I want to go back? Hell no.

  Was I going to go back? Hell yes.

  I sighed, thinking about my empty refrigerator and tiny apartment. I’d be lucky to have enough gas to get me to work over the next few days.

  “I don’t have a choice. Bills come every month and I have to feed myself,” I said, just as my stomach rolled with hunger pain.

  The line went quiet, and I heard her take a deep breath. “Just be careful, okay? Those inmates are ruthless. I watched a documentary about a prison once. It’s some serious shit. You never know what they’ll do. Just keep your ass covered and your head up.”

  I chuckled. “Got it.”

  “Good. Love you, miss you,” she sang.

  I smiled. “Love you, miss you, too.”

  Hanging up, I lay back against my pillows. I didn’t have long before I had to get ready for my next shift. When I closed my eyes, X flashed through my memory. I thought about the fear that was etched on his face the last time I saw him.

  My heart thudded.

  I could only hope that my next few shifts would be monotonous. I didn’t think I could handle it if every time I went to work something dangerous happened.

  MY NEXT DAY at work was uneventful. I spent most of it cleaning the infirmary, counting sharps, and filling out reports. We had a few inmates come in for medication and blood work, but I drove to my apartment after my shift feeling much better about my decision to stay.

  I’d even managed to snag a small bag of chips from the prison without anyone noticing or asking questions. I’d never been one to steal, but I was hungry and the bag was just sitting on Dr. Giles’ desk. I had to do it. An apple from the cafeteria weighed in my pocket also. I was starving at breakfast, but after some eggs and a muffin, I decided to save the apple for dinner.

  On day three, I sat in the parking lot, struggling with myself about whether to drive away like a bat out of hell or to get out of the car and go into work. A few days off to reflect might have been nice, but it was impossible because of my financial state. Dr. Giles had called the night before to check on me, which I thought was nice. I knew it was because he was worried I wouldn’t come back, but he had no idea I had no other choice.

  I assured him I was fine, but now, sitting in front of the looming cinderblock building, I was having second and third thoughts. My eyes followed the barbed wire along the top of the fencing, and I wondered if it was as sharp and cold as the men inside. I wondered if it sliced away at any soul who stepped through the fencing. Then again, most of those inside were deemed soulless, so I guess it didn’t matter much to them.

  Closing my eyes, I envisioned X’s piercing blues. I remembered the fear I’d seen in them during the lockdown. It was the strangest thing. One second, he was vulnerable and afraid, and then next, the hardened killer was back and he was staring daggers at me. It was almost as if his mask had slipped—as if his armor had fallen out of place for the briefest of moments.

  I secured my phone in my center console and stuffed my purse under the seat. With one last breath, I grabbed my badge from where it hung on the rearview mirror and tucked the hairs that had fallen from my ponytail behind my ear.

  As I pushed my door open, it cracked and creaked. It wasn’t a new car. I doubted I’d ever own anything new, but it was mine. Thanks to a little extra on my student loans, I was able to buy it with cash. Of course, now I was hoping I’d be able to pay those loans back.

  I hadn’t planned for things to be like this. My mom died when I was five from a brain aneurism, and my dad never remarried. For years, it was just us against the world. He worked for CSI, which meant he was always bringing home stories about his job. He never considered the fact that I might have nightmares, but I guessed he knew me better than anyone else did because I loved his stories, no matter how twisted some of the criminals were.

  But my daddy was gone now. Without him, the world felt like a bigger, scarier place. It wasn’t like I knew my dad was going to die and leave me all alone in the world. I didn’t blame him; I blamed the asshole that shot him while he was on a case. Because of that man, I woke up every day scared of the future. I hated not knowing what was next—not being able to make plans because I wasn’t sure what the following day would hold. It was scary.

  A few of the COs were walking in the parking lot toward the building. They were starting their next shift as well. I wondered if they ever had days when they wanted to run away from it all. Did they ever feel afraid of their job?

  Swallowing my anxiety, I slammed my car door shut and turned to walk inside. After the usual metal detector and turning out my pockets, I grabbed my car keys and badge and headed to find an officer to escort me to the infirmary.

  “Hey, Lyla, glad you came back.” I glanced up to see Officer Douglas smiling down at me. “We had a bet going on how long you’d last here. You just won me a hundred bucks,” he joked, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

  He was the nicest CO in Fulton and my favorite escort. A tall, broad man in his mid-forties, he had bright blue eyes and a bald head. He looked stacked, like a man who lifted weights and played football in his younger days. His once strong and taut body was now replaced by a beer gut and a double chin from too many doughnuts and not enough exercise.

  He wasn’t attractive, but his friendliness made up for it. He’d been there through all the shifts I’d worked so far. From what I could tell, he was a jokester. He loved to make everyone laugh. But even though he was a comedian, he still did his job. When it came to the inmates, he was all business.

  “Gee, thanks.” I laughed. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Officer Douglas.”

  He laughed. “Don’t give me that Officer Douglas crap. Just call me Duggie.” He playfully nudged me with his elbow. “You’ll do fine here. Got it?”

  I nodded as I followed him down the long hallway leading to the block.

  I hated that we even had to go through the block to get to the infirmary. Whoever built the prison all those years ago wasn’t thinking very clearly.

  The place was set up in levels, each more stifling and suffocating than the last. The first level was for civilians, those coming to see an inmate for visitation or to simply pay for canteen. You’d see the occasional lawyer bustle up to the desk and demand to see an inmate or a mother crying because she couldn’t see her son since she had missed visiting hours by five minutes.

  Then there was the next level, where you were searched and processed before being allowed to go on to the next level. This required a badge, which I’d gotten on day one, and a few minutes in the control room to be checked in.

  As they buzzed me through, I entered the last level, better known as the block. It was the place where the inmates lived and breathed. The walk through was hell, and I hated it. Officer Douglas was a good bodyguard, but I doubted his ability to protect me against a hundred sex-starved criminals.

  As I plucked up my courage, I put in my imaginary earplugs and held my head high. The bars opened, clinking the whole way, and then we stepped in. The minute the bars closed behind us, the inmates began to taunt me.

  “Here, kitty, kitty. Come here and let Daddy pet that sweet pussy.”

  Accidently, I looked his way. His wide eyes moved over my body, leaving chills in their wake. His greasy fingers grabbed the bars, and he shoved his face into them trying to get a better look at me. Instantly, I felt dirty and in need of a shower.

  “Hey, Strawberry Shortcake, I see you’re back for more. Just let me put a finger in, baby.”

  I ignored the onslaught of name-calling and kept my focus on the door that would ultimately be put between the demons and me. Douglas slammed his baton across the bars, making me jump, but also reminding them to shut up.

  “Respect, boys!” he called out. “Remember your manners when a lady’s present.”

  He smiled down at
me awkwardly, and I nodded my appreciation.

  It didn’t matter, though. They kept talking. Their words were vile, each cutting into me and making me feel nauseated. I was their daily entertainment, a redheaded piece of ass for them to toy with. I’d dealt with catcalls in my life, but this was different. These men weren’t dirty-minded frat boys or construction workers. These hardened criminals didn’t give a damn about how it made them look or how I felt about it.

  We moved deeper into the block toward the infirmary, and I cried inside knowing that I had no other options. I had to take their verbal abuse. It was my life now.

  My eyes scanned the hall, bars as far as I could see, and then I turned my head and my eyes clashed with X. He was standing at the bars in only his khaki pants. His bare, tattooed chest glistened under the dim lighting. Against my will, my eyes dipped low, taking in his beautiful cuts and dips. Physically, he was amazing. Too bad I couldn’t say the same about his mental state.

  Catching myself, I moved my eyes away from his naked chest. Again, my eyes clashed with his, and he lifted a knowing brow. He shook his head at me, as if telling me I shouldn’t be there. He was right. I wanted to be anywhere but there.

  I peeled my eyes away from him and continued the walk down the mile. His eyes burned into my back, leaving a strange tingle down my spine.

  As we finally reached the door, I gazed up at the camera and schooled my expression. I didn’t want control to see how desperate I was to be on the other side and away from the inmates. The buzzer sounded, giving me a brief high, and I practically sprinted through into the infirmary.

  Dr. Giles stood over an inmate, listening to his breathing with a steel face. As I removed my sweater and tossed it behind the chair at the nurses’ desk, I glanced at Ginger, another nurse. I was there to relieve her of her shift. I’d only met Ginger once since she was usually gone before I got there, but she was a nice girl.

  She’d been at the prison for two years, and I wasn’t sure if it was working with the inmates or the way she was raised, but she was much stronger than I was. Nothing seemed to bother her, and I could only hope I’d be same soon.

  Her name didn’t suit her. She was short and stocky, her pixie cut sporting a box-blonde color on the tips. She was standing next to Giles, ready for any orders he spat out. She met my eyes and smiled, rolling her eyes as if to let me know it had already been a crappy day. I chuckled to myself, nodding at her and locking my car keys into the top drawer before going through my paces.

  A few officers were posted around the inmate’s bed, which meant he was dangerous. A fight must have happened already. Ginger was right; this shift was going to be crappy. I’d come in hoping to do nothing more than intake screenings. Those were easy and I didn’t have to deal with the dangerous ones as much. Apparently, I wasn’t that lucky.

  As I approached Giles, he turned to me with a grimace.

  “Morning, Ms. Evans. I need you to call transport here. This patient needs to be moved to the hospital.”

  Nodding, I grabbed the chart when he handed it over. I was relieved to see that the inmate wasn’t injured, just sick. That meant no fights yet. Maybe the day would be a quiet one.

  Dr. Giles turned on his heels and walked toward the officers, pulling the curtain and disappearing behind it. Going to the phone, I pressed the extension for transport and waited for an answer.

  “Transport,” a gruff voice rang out on the other line.

  “This is Nurse Evans. Dr. Giles needs an inmate transported immediately to the hospital.”

  Scanning the chart, the word flu stuck out at me. The flu in a prison was never a good thing. It meant the infirmary was going to be packed, and the flu season had barely begun.

  This particular inmate was having breathing issues. With respiratory issues and outdated equipment, sending him to the hospital was the only option.

  As I relayed the patient information to transport, Dr. Giles reappeared and stood next to me, scribbling wildly onto a clipboard before returning it to its resting place.

  “Are they coming?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, they’re waiting for a few officers to return and they’ll head this way.”

  “Good. Hopefully no one else will come down with this. Get ready, Ms. Evans, it looks like the rough season is starting early. We’ve never had a flu patient this soon in the year. I loathe flu season.” The wrinkles across his forehead deepened as he focused back on his paperwork.

  A few minutes later, the printer spat out a few sheets and Dr. Giles stuck them into a manila envelope. He scribbled the patient’s name across the front and laid it on the top of the nurses’ desk.

  “I’m heading into my office to call the hospital and make sure they have a bed for him. That will save transport a few minutes,” he said.

  As he walked in and sat at his desk, I watched him carefully. He pulled his glasses from his face as he dialed the number and sat back. Rubbing his eyes and nose, he sighed deeply before rambling off to whoever was on the other end. His once-brown hair was now heavily grayed and his stress was obvious in the strain of his shoulders.

  When he reentered the unit, he went back to the sick inmate.

  “Good news for you, Patterson. You’re going to the hospital. I’ve got you cleared for chest X-rays and a full workup. It looks like you’ll be getting a small break from this place.”

  When I stepped around the curtain, the inmate was smiling as if he’d just won the lottery. I’d never seen someone so happy about a visit to the hospital.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Patterson replied.

  He didn’t look sick, except for the flushed cheeks and the glistening eyes of someone with a high fever.

  I left Dr. Giles’ side to go back to the computer and finish some paperwork. As I sat, the door buzzer went off and the bars clicked open to let in a CO and another inmate. He was a scrawny old man, his teeth rotting and his wispy, gray hair standing on edge. He grinned at me as he came in, his eyes moving over my breasts in a vulgar manner.

  The CO escorted him to a bed before taking up his post next to the curtain. Dr. Giles disappeared again, and I continued to do paperwork. I updated the charts and went into the back room to do inventory. We had to account for everything in the infirmary. If something went missing, it was a massive deal and resulted in a prison-wide shakedown.

  The day was turning out okay. I stayed busy and didn’t have to deal with many inmates. The hours ticked by quickly, and I found myself smiling during my busy work. That all changed the minute the familiar lockdown alarms sounded. I groaned and rolled my eyes when the red lights flickered throughout the room.

  There was no telling what was going on outside the infirmary. Why couldn’t the inmates behave themselves for just one freaking day?

  I stood, preparing myself for the onslaught of inmates that were sure to come. Twenty minutes later, the door buzzed and the bars clinked open.

  Five COs walked in, tugging inmates inside with them. As the first two entered, I looked them over and assessed their injuries the best I could. One was clutching his shoulder and was hunched over as if he’d been struck in the chest. The other held his face, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. Someone had obviously taken something large and hard against his face.

  Then the third inmate entered, and my lungs deflated as all the air rushed from my body.

  It was X again.

  What was it about him? And why did my body respond to him every time he was near me?

  He gazed around the room as if he was searching for something, and then his eyes landed on me. My day had just taken a turn for the worse, and I wasn’t so sure I was unhappy about it.

  CHAPTER 6

  LYLA

  HE WALKED IN like he owned the place. Lord knew he was there enough to own it. I stood still, expecting his dark expression to soften the way it had before, but it didn’t change. His royal blue eyes skimmed my face, his dark brows pulling down in aggravation.

  Why did he always look so annoyed wit
h me? What had I done to him?

  His gaze was sharp, and it cut right through me. He moved across the room, his eyes never leaving me, and sat down and did as the officers asked.

  Grabbing the clipboard, I went to the first two, hoping Dr. Giles could take care of X this time, but I wasn’t that lucky. Coming to my side, Giles took the clipboard from me and motioned me to X.

  Grabbing another clipboard from the counter, I went to X’s side, avoiding his accusing glare. Nervously, I scribbled a few notes on the paper about the time and date. My face flushed, and I knew it was because he was watching my every move. I schooled my face since showing any kind of emotion was forbidden, and then I looked at him.

  “Hi again, X,” I began.

  I didn’t expect a response since he never talked. He stared back at me, unblinking, with hate thick in his expression.

  “Look, I know you’re not one for small talk, but this could go a lot faster if you’d just answer a few questions for me,” I pressed.

  His thick lips shifted, and his voice broke through. It was rough and unused, but so deep I was sure it vibrated his muscled chest.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re fucking annoying?” he asked, his voice cold and sinister.

  I was shocked by his words, but instead of showing him, I looked down at the paper on my clipboard and took a breath.

  My pen lingered over the place where I’d enter the inmate’s name, but entering the name X didn’t seem appropriate. Dr. Giles had told me his real name once before, but I couldn’t remember it.

  Ignoring his rude question, I began asking my own. “What’s your name?”

  I tapped the pen against the clipboard, prepared to write. My face ached with a smile I didn’t feel as I waited for some kind of response.

  “Leave,” he simply stated.

  I blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I said… leave. You don’t belong here, and you know it.”

  His voice was becoming menacing, as if he was issuing a warning. I swallowed hard, my next words becoming lodged in my throat.