Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  “Lyla, just listen,” he started.

  “No. There’s nothing to listen to. I’m not quitting yet, and you’re not fighting in any stupid fight club.”

  Without letting him talk again, I turned to leave. His fingers dug into my arm when he pulled me back, his hand going straight to my ass and squeezing. He was hot and cold—on and off—my own personal rollercoaster ride.

  “You’re so fucking hot when you’re angry,” he growled against the side of neck.

  His teeth grazed my skin, sending chills down my side. Then he was kissing me, his tongue plunging into my mouth roughly as he tasted me. I kissed him back, enjoying the feel of being manhandled. He was so big—so strong—so freaking sexy.

  Oxygen flooded my lungs when he finally pulled away, and my hand flew to my swollen lips, feeling the tingly heat from him.

  “Think about it,” he said, and then he turned away and sat on the bed just in time for Reeves to pull back to curtain.

  “Everything okay in here?” he asked, his eyes moving from X to me.

  “Everything’s just peachy,” X responded in his usual gritty tone.

  He was taken back to his cell an hour later, and it wasn’t long before I was finishing up my paperwork and biting the tip of my pen thinking of him and the way his hands and mouth felt all over my body. My skin flushed and I smiled to myself, knowing that one day soon, he’d be all mine.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Dr Giles and I were walking out. We’d just finished our shift and while he still had tons of energy, I felt as though I was seconds away from passing out. Sleep tickled the edges of my conscious, and I was worried that maybe it wasn’t safe for me to drive home.

  Tossing my bag onto the counter for the officers to look through, I stepped through the metal detector just like I did every day. I stepped through coming in and I stepped through going out, never had there been a problem, except for this time.

  The alarm beeped, warning the officers that something metal was on my person. There wasn’t. I knew that. I’d taken the time to put everything in my bag. I’d learned the rules, the way things worked, and I also knew what to do to get myself out of Fulton and into my bed quicker. I was prepared for the metal detector.

  Jumping at its loud beeping, I rolled my eyes as I turned around to go back through. I stepped through a second time, sure that the first alarm was a fluke, but again, the alarm beeped.

  “What the—?” I started. Looking down, I made sure my badge was taken off. I didn’t have pockets in my scrubs. There was no metal on me.

  The alarmed beeped again the third time I stepped through, and I sighed in aggravation. I was tired. Stressed. And every other word that meant I really just wanted to go home and get in my bed.

  Officer Mitts stepped my way with a smile. “It’s procedure,” he said.

  I held my arms out to my sides and shook my head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  His waved the hand-held metal detector my way, running it up and down my legs and around my hips. When it didn’t beep, he moved it up over my stomach and then down my left arm. Bringing it across my body, the alarm beeped when he waved it across my chest. My shirt had a tiny pocket that I never used, and that seemed to be the spot that was drawing out the metal detector’s attention.

  Mitts reached into the tiny pocket and pull out a small, thin knife. The switchblade popped out with a click when he pressed a tiny button on its side. Shock moved through me. I’d never seen the tiny knife before.

  How did it get in my pocket?

  “That’s not mine,” I said adamantly. I looked around with wild eyes, and everyone was looking back at me. “I swear. It’s not mine.”

  Giles had gone out before me. Douglas was already in bed with his wife, I was sure. I had no champion to come to my defense.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Evans, but I have to report this,” Mitts said.

  Reports. There was always something to freaking report. It was like they were grown men turned toddler tattletales. It was annoying, but at the same time, I understood why they had to do it. It was to keep everyone safe.

  So instead of going on the defensive, I simply nodded my head and attempted to smile.

  That day I slept for shit. I lay in bed trying to figure out how the hell I’d gotten a tiny knife in my pocket, but nothing was coming to me. By the time dinnertime rolled around, I was sleepy and starving. I was being switched back to day shift so I had the next day off, but I knew when I got back to Fulton, there would be hell to pay over the tiny knife that was found in my pocket.

  ON MY NEXT shift, I was taken straight to the warden’s office. There was no pass go. There was no collect two hundred dollars. It was just a metal detector and then the warden’s office.

  I sat in the tiny waiting room, smiling at his secretary and secretly hating her for having an easy job. Then again, while I was sure it was easy to sit around and answer phones all day, I knew I would get bored out of my mind within the first hour.

  Twenty minutes later, I was being ushered into his office. My eyes went straight to the warden and Douglas when I walked in, but it wasn’t until the door closed behind me that I noticed Dr. Giles standing across the room.

  I was in deep shit. It was like an intervention. They were going to try to talk me out of giving the inmates narcotics and bringing knives into the prison. Both of which I didn’t do. Then it hit me. They were all gathered, standing tall in their suits and uniforms.

  I was getting canned.

  “I’m fired, aren’t I?” I asked, sure that the tiny knife had done the trick.

  The warden sat down at his desk, his face serious and his brows pulled down deep. “Have a seat, Ms. Evans,” he demanded.

  I did as I was told, not taking my eyes away from his.

  “How am I supposed to believe you didn’t give drugs to an inmate when only the next day you’re found carrying a knife in your pocket?” he asked with a deadly growl. “A knife! In my prison!” His desk shook when he slammed his hand down on top of it.

  “I didn’t…” I started.

  He held a hand up to stop me. “Don’t. Am I supposed to believe you didn’t bring a weapon into my prison?”

  My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to be in his office. I didn’t trust him. Something about him made me want to crawl under a rock and hide. Douglas and Giles were sitting there, however, and somehow it felt as though that shifted things in my favor.

  “Yes, sir, you are.” I swallowed my nerves and continued. “I didn’t do those things. I’ve never seen that knife in my life. If you check it for fingerprints, I can guarantee you mine aren’t on it.”

  “Are you telling me how to do my job, young lady?” he asked, his eyebrow lifting.

  “No, sir, of course not. I’m just trying to make sure I get my named cleared.”

  “You seem to be trying to get a lot of names cleared lately.” I didn’t miss the underlying sarcasm in his voice.

  He sat straighter and cleared his throat. Douglas looked at him sharply as if trying to figure out what he meant. Dr. Giles shook his head as if he was aggravated with the lies that were being spun against me.

  The warden leaned onto his elbows, his fingers crossed under his chin. “If I catch anything else going on… if I even suspect that you might be involved with anything or anyone, you’re gone. Understand?”

  I bit my tongue, words that begged to be said pressing against the back of my teeth. “Yes, sir.” I nodded.

  Relief rushed through me when I stepped out of his office. I felt lightheaded with happiness knowing that I’d be able to keep my job a little longer. But it was for the wrong reason. It wasn’t about the money anymore. It was about Christopher Jacobs. I wasn’t ready to walk away from him without knowing for sure I’d see him on the outside.

  CHAPTER 22

  LYLA

  SOMEONE OBVIOUSLY WANTED me gone. It made me uneasy and on edge. I went to work and wrapped my head around intake screenings and blood work. It was obvious I needed help with my situatio
n. People were out to get me, and I found myself watching my back at every turn.

  I thought about calling Diana, but I wasn’t ready to hear her bitching. She’d be more pissed about that fact that I hadn’t come to her sooner, and then she’d tell me to quit. I didn’t need to hear that right now. What I did need was someone higher up… someone with some pull, and I had an idea of where I might find that.

  The boys in the police station patted me on the back with smiles and a few even gave me hugs. I was always welcomed there since my dad was somewhat of a legend in their ranks. Charlie looked up with a smile when I stepped into his office. That smile melted from his face when I began to tell him about all the crap that was going down at Fulton.

  “Do you know what it means to be green-lighted, Lyla? Do you have any idea how much shit you’re into?”

  The vein throbbed on the side of his neck with his anger. It was then that I thought that maybe going to Charlie wasn’t such a great idea.

  “I want you out of there,” he said in a rage. “And I’m posting armed officers outside your house.”

  I put my hands up, trying to stop him, but he kept going.

  “I can’t believe the shit storm this has stirred up. The case has been opened all of three days and look what’s happening. I knew this was a bad idea.” He sat down, his face red with fury. Sinking his face into his hands, he sighed. “Your father would haunt me if anything ever happened to you.” His voice softened, and he leaned back in his chair. “No arguments, Lyla. You’re quitting.”

  Listening intently, I sat silent. Going to Charlie was a terrible idea.

  I left his office feeling worse than I did before. Nothing was accomplished, and when I crawled into bed, I passed out knowing the following day at work was going to be hell. I’d never been someone who gave up easily. I wasn’t about to start now.

  THE LAST DAY before my four-day break always seemed to stretch on. A minute felt like an hour, an hour felt like a day. Every time I looked at the clock, it seemed as if it were taunting me, the hands playing tricks on my mind and never actually moving. It dragged to the point of madness.

  Every time the door buzzed, I held my breath and hoped that it was Christopher coming to see me. After all, he was the main reason I was still working at Fulton in the first place. But no matter how many times I looked for him, he never came. I supposed that was a good thing since that last thing I wanted was for him to get hurt, but still, I wanted to see his face.

  I brought my lunch in a Ziploc bag and allowed the guards to search me. I made them search my pockets, too, just in case someone tried to pull some shit. I was careful. After eating my lunch, I threw away the plastic. I checked my pockets every hour to make sure nothing had been slipped into them. I felt crazy, but working at a max pen would do that to you, I supposed.

  By the time afternoon rolled around, I was done with intake, doses, and paperwork and left with nothing to do but read a few of the magazines that were lying around medical. Instead, I found myself staring into space and watching Douglas pout from the other side of the room. He seemed fidgety and on edge.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” I offered as I noticed he was daydreaming.

  “Hmm?” He smiled and stood up straighter.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, worried.

  “Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind.” He shrugged. “Family stuff.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He grinned at me and nodded. “Are you okay here? I need to take a leak.”

  I didn’t even respond. Instead, I waved him away. There were no inmates in the infirmary, and Dr. Giles had left early for once. I’d noticed him slowing down a bit, but I didn’t say anything. More than likely it was because he worked all the freaking time.

  I read over my magazine, letting the rest of my shift go by. Yawning loudly, I stretched my arms above my head and adjusted in my seat. As I was putting my arms down, something went around my neck, jerking me back and cutting off my oxygen.

  My fingers flew to my throat, grasping for whatever it was choking me, but it was so tight I couldn’t even get my finger in between what felt like plastic tubing and my skin. Choking sounds spewed past my lips, and then I was pulled to the ground and staring up at my culprit.

  Miguel Cortez.

  He was Jose Alvarez’s right-hand man. I’d taken care of him a few times, patching up his cuts and bruises.

  He stared down at me, his dark hair falling into his face and covering the single tear drop tattooed beneath his eyes. Sweat glistened above his brow, and he licked at his lips as his face turned colors with his struggle to choke me.

  I looked up at him, darkness dancing around the edges of my vision, and begged him with my eyes to let me live, but apparently, the money was more important. He jerked, the plastic tube cutting into neck, and I knew I had seconds left.

  Suddenly, the pressure around my neck was gone.

  Air rushed into windpipe, and I gasped, sucking in as much as I could and making my lungs burn. Grabbing for my neck, I looked up into the eyes of my savior. My stomach tightened with joy when I saw officer Reeves standing above Miguel’s limp body.

  Douglas lifted me from the floor, and I latched onto him with a death grip. The fear that consumed me was raw, and it cut deep. Deeper than the plastic tubing, or what I now knew was IV tubing, that had cut into my neck.

  One thing was for sure, I was done with Fulton. X had been pushing me to quit for a while now, but it was obvious I wasn’t safe there anymore. I packed my bags, called Dr. Giles, and put in my resignation all within the hour.

  I drove home that afternoon with the pressure of an elephant on my chest. I left without saying goodbye to X, which I knew I could remedy with a visit, and I left without knowing where my next paycheck was going to come from. It was a scary thing, not knowing what the future held, but I knew I could do it. After all, I’d worked in a maximum-security prison, and I’d fallen in love with an alleged murderer.

  I was no longer the girl I used to be. Fulton was famous for transforming their inmates—turning boys to men—and the innocent into criminals. No one ever talked about how it changed the staff. And after working there, I could honestly say I was a different person… a stronger person.

  CHAPTER 23

  x

  I’D TRIED EVERYTHING to get her fired. I’d had Scoop set her up with the pills, and I’d even tried to set her up by slipping a knife in her pocket, yet she was still working at Fulton. I spent every day thinking it would be the last time I’d ever see Lyla, worrying every moment that I wouldn’t be there to protect her when some lunatic finally caved and went for the kill. It was enough to drive a sane man crazy.

  Then again, I wasn’t all that sane.

  I stayed away from the infirmary as much as I could, but I couldn’t deny it any longer, I missed Lyla when I wasn’t around her. Lying about my head bothering me got me a trip to medical, but I must have had her schedule backward because she wasn’t there. It was too early in the afternoon for her to be gone already, which meant she was either off or working the night shift.

  I waited, pretending to have a headache I didn’t have, until finally it was obvious she wasn’t coming to work. I’d missed chow time, so I ate in my cell and fell asleep worried that something might have happened to Lyla.

  The next morning when we were lining up for breakfast, Scoop grabbed at my arm roughly trying to get my attention. I almost decked him until I realized it was him.

  “What the fuck, Scoop?? I asked, yanking my arm away and taking in his wide-eyed expression full of panic.

  “Lyla got attacked yesterday,” he said in a rushed whisper.

  His news came to me in a hushed tone, but it felt as if he’d hit me with thunder and lightning. It slammed me in the chest, sending icy cold into my bones. “Is she okay?”

  I knew when I asked how desperate I sounded, but I didn’t give a fuck. I needed to know Lyla was still on this earth. Needed to know that there was still something good in my worl
d. I wasn’t sure I could go on without her now that she was mine. Already I could feel myself breaking apart into tiny pieces just thinking about losing her.

  “She’s okay.”

  The tension in my shoulders loosened at those words, but still, the anger simmered in my stomach to a dangerous level.

  “What happened?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know. My jaw ached from grounding my teeth so hard.

  “It was Miguel, one of Jose’s boys. The Mexican Mafia is coming in hot on this green light, man. They’re hard up for that cash. I think Jose might have put him up to it.” He gripped the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with telling me the rest.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know how he got in, but he wasn’t there for medical. He tried to strangle her to death with IV tubing. She was blue by the time Reeves and Douglas got to her. He’s in solitary now, but the talk is he won’t be in there long.”

  We were in the cafeteria, but instead of getting food, I went to a table to sit. Scoop sat beside me, his eyes moving over the room, making sure no one was listening to our conversation. Some inmates watched in interest, but I didn’t care. Fuck them. I fucking dared them to come at me.

  I hated the idea of anyone touching her, but maybe this would be the push she needed to finally quit. Over my dead body would she continue to work at Fulton. I hoped now she understood how serious I was about her leaving.

  I hated to think about what my life in Fulton would be like without her, but I knew it would be worse if she was murdered. Plus, my case had been reopened, and there was always that chance that I’d be released.

  I looked up just as Jose and his boys came into the room, and my blood started to boil. My skin felt as if it was melting from my body, and I was being transformed into a completely different kind of monster. One who really could rip limbs from a person because in that moment, it was all I could think about doing.

  I pumped my fists and moved to stand from my seat. His eyes clashed with mine, and he lifted a brow as if to tell me to bring it. He had no idea how bad it was going to be for him.