Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  I believed him, and I knew he was one of the few people in the prison I could trust. I felt safe with him, and his words were comforting. He wouldn’t let them hurt me. Luckily, we worked a lot of shifts together.

  His radio blared and told him to dial a number. He excused himself, walked over to my desk, and picked up the receiver. I turned to Dr. Giles, leaving him to his call. Giles was in his office scribbling notes. The man worked every day. He always looked disheveled and worn out, but somehow had the energy of a five-year-old. He amazed me.

  As I entered his office, he glanced up at me quickly before returning to his paperwork.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “They all had really good glucose readings tonight. Brett Caroway was complaining of dizziness, but I think he’s just making excuses because his sugar was great.”

  “Good. You’re getting good at predicting who’s lying and who’s really in need of assistance. It took me a while to pick out the fakers.” He smiled up at me, making me feel proud.

  I was beginning to feel at home at Fulton, but having a target on my chest wasn’t what I had bargained for when I took the job. “Thanks,” I mumbled. “I’m going to grab a cup of coffee from the break room. Want a cup?”

  He rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch. “Sounds good. Black. No sugar.”

  Walking to the door, I waited for control to buzz me out. I didn’t normally walk through the prison by myself, but I needed coffee and I knew it was lights out for most of the guys by now. Lights out meant an officer on the catwalk in the cell house gallery. That officer would have a shotgun, and he’d be waiting to fire a warning shot if by some chance an inmate got loose from his cell.

  It was the same procedure in the yard. COs weren’t allowed to be armed at Fulton. The only ones allowed were the ones in the catwalks, but then again, they could “accidently” mistake me for an inmate and collect. I didn’t put anything past someone low on their luck.

  My shoulders were tense and my back straight as I made my way toward the break room. As I walked by the cells full of inmates, the COs began to shuffle. Most of them were just coming on for their shift and some were still trying to get the sleep out of their eyes. I relaxed and moved quickly through, smiling at them as I passed. My eyes scanned the shadows at my side, expecting it to be my last breath at any time.

  When I reached the break room, I felt relief wash over me. The room was empty. Quickly, I grabbed two Styrofoam cups and poured the freshly brewed coffee. Someone was a lifesaver. They knew I needed the caffeine. As I filled one of the cups, I heard the door open. Douglas poked his head in and took a deep breath, breathing in the delicious scent of the coffee.

  “Yes” he said, his smile taking over his face.

  I laughed at him and handed him a cup.

  “Thanks, doll,” he said as he began pouring himself a cup.

  Sugar dissolved into the blackness in my cup, and I stirred it, taking in his comedy routine. He took his coffee black, but he ripped open at least ten packets of sugar and emptied them into his cup. As he took his first sip, he moaned.

  “That’s some damn good coffee.”

  I chuckled. “Should I leave you alone with your cup, Duggie?”

  He smiled at me and winked with a naughty tilt to his lips. “Maybe. It’s definitely giving me pleasure. It might get nasty up in here. Does yours need more cream?”

  Pretending to gag, I laughed loudly as I left the room.

  The darkness swallowed me when I walked the block back to medical. The shadows danced along the edges of the room, taunting and teasing me with death. The COs were spaced out, half asleep in their chairs outside the cells.

  As I turned down a row to head back to the unit, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled at me. Gasping, I spun around to face my attacker. I was about to scream when my eyes clashed with a pair of steely blues gazing intently into mine.

  He was in his cell, his arms holding me close to the bars.

  “X? Oh my God. You scared me,” I hissed in a whisper.

  “You should be. Why are you still here? I told you to leave. They raised the bounty, Lyla. You need to go.”

  His words fell on me like cold water. They were offering more money. More money, more problems. More money, more likely to die.

  My mind flashed back to the warden and his phone call after I’d left his room.

  “Is it the warden?” I whispered.

  “Why would the warden green light you?” His brows pulled in.

  “I overheard him saying something about me knowing too much to someone on the phone.”

  A loud sigh escaped his lips, and he rubbed roughly at the back of his neck. “Please, Lyla, you need to leave. Please leave now. I can’t protect you behind these bars.” His eyes were pleading with me, and it was breaking my heart.

  “I can’t leave you. You need me. I have to protect you, too.”

  His eyes softened. Reaching out, he touched my face in the dark. I loved the feel of his hands. They were rough, but so tender. I glanced around quickly, making sure we weren’t about to be discovered.

  He pulled me closer, the cold steel digging into my stomach and hips, but his hot body soothed the sting. He grabbed my hip with one hand and my shoulder with the other.

  “I don’t want anything happening to you,” he whispered, his breath falling onto my cheek.

  I felt myself falling under his trance. His hypnotic eyes danced across my face and I instinctively looked up, waiting for his lips. As he brushed his lips across my cheek and the bridge of my nose, I could feel him quivering. He would’ve taken me right there if he could’ve gotten away with it. His soft lips finally found mine and he kissed me savagely, as if he were starving. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it left me winded. As I tore myself away, I adjusted the coffees in my hands.

  “I have to go,” I whispered.

  “Yes, you do. Leave, Lyla,” he urged, still demanding I quit.

  I ignored him and continued to medical. Stopping by a snack machine outside canteen, I grabbed myself a blueberry muffin and held it between my side and arm. As I walked back, I smiled softly, touching my lips gently, wishing his lips were still brushing against mine. When I entered, Dr. Giles glanced up at me, his face angry and dark.

  “Lyla, come here please.”

  My heart sank deep into my stomach. I knew they had seen me. Someone had caught me kissing X, and I was going to get sacked. They’d seen our moment of passion, and I was going to get fired before I even had the chance to free him.

  As I approached the desk where he stood, I realized Douglas sat on the other side. His face was forlorn and cold, not like him at all.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question. I was surprised when he held up a tiny wad of toilet paper.

  “Care to explain this?” Dr. Giles asked.

  Opening the toilet paper, he exposed a few Vicodin. I had nothing to do with the narcotics. Rarely did I even get close to them.

  “I don’t understand?” I asked, confused.

  “I found these on an inmate earlier,” Douglas said, eyeing me suspiciously. “He told me you gave them to him on your way to the break room.”

  Dr. Giles looked over at Douglas and then back to me, expecting an explanation.

  “That’s a lie!” I exploded. “I don’t do the pain meds; that’s Ginger’s job,” I said, my heart speeding up with their accusations. “I only do the diabetic meds, cholesterol, and blood pressure meds.”

  Dr. Giles’ face softened. He knew I was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes.

  Still, anger pulled at Douglas’ lips. “He specifically told me you gave them to him.”

  “Then he’s lying. I don’t even have a key for those.”

  Giles backed me up. “She’s telling the truth. She never has the keys to that cabinet. I help her load every tray, making sure that I can take care of any changes in medicine while standing over her. There’s no way he got it from her.
”

  Douglas’ face shifted to Giles, and then back to mine. “I’m sorry, Lyla, but I have to report this. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do.” He shrugged apologetically.

  He turned away and walked out, leaving Dr. Giles and I staring at each other.

  “I didn’t,” I repeated.

  Reaching out, he ran his hand over my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get through this.

  It was the strangest thing. Not an hour ago, Douglas was smiling and chatting with me, but now he was all business. Now he was accusing me of stealing narcotics and dealing them in the prison. He was accusing me of being a criminal. I didn’t like it.

  It was upsetting since I liked Douglas so much. He was a nice guy, but then again, being in a penitentiary meant not being able to trust anyone. Just like I was walking around not trusting anyone with my life, he didn’t trust me, at least not a hundred percent.

  The more I thought about it, the less I could blame him. Fulton was full of criminals. Liars. Cheats. Murderers. Drug dealers. It wasn’t a place to make friends. And while I hated to think about it, I was sure everyone in the prison was turning against me. I was green-lighted, which meant I was worth a lot of money. I couldn’t trust anyone, not even Douglas. Not anymore.

  CHAPTER 21

  LYLA

  I WAS SUSPENDED the next day as they began an investigation. Reports were filed, but since it was the inmate’s word against mine, they let me come back. I later found out it was Evan Moore, aka Scoop, who told Douglas I gave him the narcotics.

  It was confusing since Scoop had been nothing but nice to me. Then again, money changed people. I wanted to talk to X about it since he and Scoop were friends, but I couldn’t unless he came to me, which he’d suddenly quit doing. I rarely saw him, and I was starting to worry that maybe I was in deeper than he was. Still, if his friend was going to the dark side, he needed to know so he could watch his back.

  Dr. Giles was more than excited to see me when I walked in the following evening. He hurried over and threw his around my shoulders. “Glad you are back, kid. It’s been one thing after another here. I’ve had so many inmates through here in the past few hours I almost ran out of beds.” He turned me with his hands on my shoulders. “Most have been asking about you, but no one knows,” he assured me.

  “What about my charges?” I asked, studying his face.

  “No charges pressed. Douglas and I went to bat for you. There was no way you could’ve given him those meds without access to them. I don’t know what’s going on around here, but something’s up.” He looked at me suspiciously, and then his face cleared. “I have no idea how the inmate got those drugs, but I smell a rat.”

  I swallowed hard. I knew how Scoop got the drugs. Dr. Giles was right; there was rat. Someone was setting me up. Still, I wasn’t sure who I could trust anymore, and I didn’t want to say anything that could reflect poorly on me.

  “I’m glad to be back,” I said, changing the subject quickly.

  Peeling my sweater from my arms, I rested it on the back of my chair. Dr. Giles’ office was cooler than the unit when I went inside to put my bag lunch in the mini-fridge. When I turned around, Ginger was standing in the doorway. Her exhausted eyes were devoid of light and her shoulders were slumped. She’d obviously had a bad day.

  Her smile was forced as she reached for a Coke. Her jacket hung from her arm and her keys jingled as she waited at the door for command to let her out for the night. I felt bad for her. A cold had ruined her last week at work, but she’d drudged through even though she was miserable. Her nose was red, and she’d spent most of her time at work rubbing it with a deteriorating tissue.

  “Hope you feel better,” I called after her.

  She waved at me, flashing me a half smile. When the door buzzed, she practically leapt out into the shadows of the block. I didn’t blame her. Fulton was a dark place, and it had a way of making you feel bad. I imagined that was even worse if you were actually sick.

  The night was uneventful again. Nights were usually quiet since all the inmates were in their own cells and asleep. Isolation was key at night, but in the dark, God only knew what could happen.

  Other than a few inmates coming in with shortness of breath and one with possible flu, the night crept by in a slow haze of paperwork. COs were in and out to check on us, occasionally stealing a soda from our fridge. We were known for keeping it well stocked, and the officers knew they could come in and grab water or a soda if they forgot pocket change at home.

  With a soda in hand, Douglas sat next to me, setting his booted feet on the desk in front of him. I glanced up from my work and grinned. He was looking around the room, enjoying a rare moment without inmates lurking on the other side of the curtains.

  “How’s your night been?” he asked.

  Things were awkward. In truth, they had been since the moment he accused me of giving narcotics to an inmate, but still, I felt better about our work relationship knowing that he defended me.

  “Good. I’m getting a lot of work done tonight.” I hesitated, quickly looking over at him. “Thanks by the way,” I added.

  “Thanks for what?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know. You help save my job. Giles said you defended me. All I’m saying is I appreciate it.”

  He grinned sheepishly, taking a sip from his soda to block it.

  “He was a liar.” He shrugged. “He was probably just trying to throw you under the bus to stir up some shit. These inmates get bored and like to make up their own soap operas. I’m just glad it’s been taken care of.”

  “Me too. It’s nice to know I have a friend here to look after me.”

  Douglas studied me, his eyes swaying over my face, and then he looked away. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Maybe some deep-set explanation to why things around me had been so crazy lately. Then another question came to mind.

  Did Douglas know I’d been green-lighted?

  I was sure the COs weren’t as clueless as they seemed. They probably knew all about the shady stuff that went down at Fulton, but they had to have some secret code that said they couldn’t talk about it with anyone who wasn’t a corrections officer or something.

  Pushing it from my mind, I went back to work. I still had digging to do when it came to Christopher’s case, plus a mountain of paperwork that needed to be filled out and filed.

  Just when I thought the conversation was over, Douglas reached out and laid a hand over mine.

  “Don’t worry, Lyla, I got your back.” At that, he stood and left to do whatever it was the officers did outside the infirmary.

  The unit settled into a deep silence… one that left me humming songs and working as if I weren’t in a max pen. Briefly, I forgot about the world outside the infirmary. I forgot about the murders that were longing for my blood and the paycheck that was posed on top of my head. It was just my paperwork and me.

  The buzzing of the doors cut through the silence, and Reeves was coming in with X shackled at his side.

  There were no alarms. There were no codes called. There was only X and Reeves, walking in like they were out for a stroll around Fulton.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, standing and directing them toward a bed.

  “He said he’s dizzy. I figured I’d better bring him in here since he’s still healing from his head injury.” Reeves grinned openly at Christopher. “That’s what you get when you fall down the stairs around Fulton.”

  It was a direct dig. Everyone knew that Christopher hadn’t fallen down any stairs. It was common knowledge there had been retaliation for his attack on the COs, but no one talked about. No one ever talked about it.

  Christopher raked Reeves with a sinister stare, a promise that one day he’d get the last say, and I could feel the temperature drop around us.

  Once I had him settled into a curtained space, he pulled me to him, his lips landing on mine so roughly that it hurt. I didn’t stop him. I wanted it. I always wa
nted him. Reaching up, I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders, and he lifted me from the floor like I weighed nothing.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered, going in for another kiss when he pulled away.

  He chuckled darkly and ran a single finger down my cheek.

  “My little wild thing,” he said, capturing my lips once more. “One day you’ll be mine, and I’ll spend the entire might making you come over and over again.”

  My body heated instantly, and I wrapped my leg around his hip to bring my center closer to him. Again, he chuckled, the sound of his deep voice striking deep in my overly sensitive core.

  “I can be quiet.” I smirked.

  “Yeah, right.” He tapped my nose and set me back to the floor. “As much as I’d love to bury myself inside you, we need to talk.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not this again. I already told you that I couldn’t quit. Not yet anyway. I have bills to pay for one, and for two, I need to be here for you.”

  He looked down, his eyes turning sad.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “What did I say?”

  Again, his steely blues captured my eyes, and he reached up to cup my cheek with a roughened palm. “Nothing. It’s just I wish I could take care of you. I wish we could have what other people have, but we can’t.” My body went cold when he pulled away from me. “Lyla, if you don’t leave, they’re going to kill you. I can’t stop it. I can’t protect you here. I can take care of myself. Please, just go.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t leave. There was still so much left to do.

  “If you go, I’ll send you money every month to help with your bills,” he said, shocking me.

  “What? You’re not doing that. How the hell would you do that anyway?”

  “There’s a fight club,” he started.

  “No,” I hissed when I wanted to yell.

  I didn’t even let him finish. I’d heard about the fight club. I’d stitched up boys who fought in it, and there was no way I was going to let him do that. No freaking way. Especially not for me, and especially considering he’d just recently healed from a head injury.