Taken

by Mia Ford

  The only fly in the ointment was Diamond. When she took the stand I have to admit I was in awe of her. She stared right at me. She didn’t flinch. She repeated the story of what had happened in beautiful detail and I relived it all with her as she spoke. For a second, just a sliver of time, less than a blink, I was almost certain I felt a spark between us. A mutual appreciation for what we were and that was predators that were on opposite sides of the morality line. Diamond would never admit to it but she was craving my blood just as I had been for Natasha and my brother. Somehow, she thinks that makes her better than me. But it didn’t. It made her my equal. She never did what I expected her to do. In fact, she always surprised me. Unpredictability is a rare quality in most women. Many nights I laid awake wondering how different things would have been if I had pursued Diamond instead of Natasha. There would be no doubt that I would have to pay her a visit once I was released.

  I have to admit that prison isn’t really as bad as it is made out to be. Not for someone like me.

  Statesville Penitentiary was a mid-level security prison. There were some real heavy hitters in here and quite a few offenders were transferred to maximum security prisons after a brief stay within these wall. But it was actually a very interesting place. Bernie was able to secure me a single cell. It was as small as you’d think it was but how much room did I need to plan for the future.

  The complex was made up of four tiers of over one hundred cells on each tier. The bottom was for the petty criminals who had short stays. The numbers on the sides of their cells were colored with red paint. Above them were more serious crimes, pedophilia, armed robbery and that sort of thing. Their numbers were green. MY level, the third level was another step up in the pecking order. Our blue numbers indicated that we were considered a little more violent, a little more unpredictable but still no match for the fourth tier inmates who had killed or raped. Their numbers were in black. The structure was curved to form a circle and the guard tower was in the middle. It gave the guard a 360 degree view of the place. And when their shifts changed the elevator inside the guard tower took them a floor below the first tier so they rarely if ever walked in front of the cells.

  We were allowed to leave our cells and walk back and forth along our tiers during the day. In case of a fire there were two sets of stairs that were restricted by double glass doors that could only be released by the guards in the tower. We were allowed outside when the weather was nice. There was a library, sort of, that had a couple books.

  The administration that we all had to visit once a month for what they called communication development was through the double glass doors, down the stairs and across the long, smooth tiled floor out two other glass doors. A long, yellow hallway lead you to whatever office it was that wanted to see you. The therapy sessions were also down this way as was a very small chapel that could be easily changed to accommodate whatever religion needed the room at whatever time.

  I preferred to keep to my cell and if anyone wanted to talk to me, which they did on occasion for a favor or to pay me back for something, they could just come to me.

  I had money all the time so the other inmates were happy to do me a couple of favors. Sure there were a few who thought I was just some pretty boy who was being served up on a platter but they soon realized that wasn’t the case.

  Just like in the real world, enough money will get you anything. I had better protection on the inside than I ever had on the outside. I also had a few writers in my service here. My fellow inmates couldn’t spell very well but when I showed them a picture of Natasha, well, they let their imaginations run wild and they wrote her lovely letters of what they’d do if they had a woman like her.

  Nothing threatening. That kind of letter would be confiscated by the prison administration and then they’d lose some special privilege like watching television or access to the internet.

  No, they were just simple letters to let her know she was sort of a celebrity within these walls. And I knew it had to drive my brother crazy to be getting mail from with the prison listed as the return address. It wasn’t like she was Santa Clause and getting sacks and sacks of mail. But every couple of weeks one might trickle through and make into her mailbox.

  She will have had that baby by now. I wondered what it was. Secretly, I was hoping for a girl. Girls are so much easier to manipulate. But a boy can be persuaded, too, especially with the right incentive. Trust me. This place is loaded with big, hairy, sweaty, tattooed little boys.

  I found them all to be rather pitiful. Not because they were criminals but because so many of them were really sorry for what they had done. The problem was once you let them out of these brick walls and past the fence with the barbed wire along the top they were already planning their next crime whether they were aware of it or not. Once they got home what would they do? They’d eat a home cooked meal, they’d fuck their girlfriend or whatever woman was inevitably waiting for them, and then they were left with nothing but the glaring fact that they had a record, no money and nothing else to do.

  But while they were in here they were sorry. They were sorry they robbed Barney’s Liquor store or the Piggly-Wiggly. They were sorry they set fire to Greater Second Baptist Church. They were sorry they raped that sixteen year-old when she was walking home from the bus stop. And, according to the file my prison assigned shrink had started to build about me I was sorry, too, deeply and profoundly sorry that I had caused pain to my family. How could I have done it? Please, Doc, help me understand my own selfish actions.

  Deep down I knew what this really was. Prison wasn’t a punishment for me. The Universe had been so good to me that I realized this was just a test.

  She wasn’t going to abandon her favorite son now. Not like my family had done. Not like Natasha had done. No. She was just testing me and I planned to excel.

  My bank account had been frozen. You can thank Marty for that. Not until I was proven fit to reenter society would the funds be released and even then, according to Bernie, there was a good chance they were going to put me on some kind of strict allowance. Thankfully, Bernie had suggested many years ago setting up an alternative account. I did that. It wasn’t much, just a couple million. Rainy day money is what my dear old dad would call it.

  I paid Bernie with that and kept a good number of close friends among the inmates and the guards very happy with a weekly allowance of their own. And all I asked of them was to help me be sorry for my actions.

  Of course the simpletons I was surrounded by didn’t know what I meant. That was fine. The less people in on my plan the better. But, you see, with good behavior I was out of a fifteen year sentence within three years. Sure, my brother with his money and influence would challenge the parole board. But, if I had a record that sang my praises, if the visits to the prison shrink went well, in three short years I’d be back in my own place, just a few blocks from my brother’s building.

  Right at this moment I was paying an outside investigator to check on my big brother and his beautiful, budding family. Every month he’d pay me a visit and we’d talk about the weather and sports and he’d tell me if there were any indicators that my brother was going to move or if Natasha was having another baby.

  So far the only thing that surprised me was that Diamond was still in the picture. That one I should have finished off when I had the chance. I should have never left her alone in her apartment. That was my own negligence and I accept the full responsibility on my own sloppy handiwork. But see what I mean? There is no use getting mad at Diamond for living. I am mad at myself for not killing her outright when I had the chance.

  Too many of these big brutes in here have a chip on their shoulder that they put there. Many of them hate the idea that I am enjoying the respite from bills and socialite bloodsuckers and charity gold diggers and the whole army of leeches that automatically bubble around the fringe of someone who has the money I do. So, when I find myself cornered by a couple of these fellows and they want a piece of me just because, well
, of course I defend myself.

  But, in order to make sure it doesn’t happen a lot and that the rumor mill gets the stories going, I just pay off someone who doesn’t have anything to lose to take care of them. They’ve got a mother or grandmother or half a dozen baby-mamas to take care of on the outside. A couple thousand dollars doesn’t mean anything to me. To them, it is all there is.

  So far I’ve just had two guys put down and not a single drop of blood has shown up on my hands. I’m not sure if they are dead or if they were just hurt so badly they were assigned to solitary to recuperate.

  So you see, I’m not upset that I’ve been sent to this place. I’m learning valuable skills and making priceless connections. Once I am out I’ll have several family members of some of my new brethren more than happy to help me tie up a couple of loose ends that were left when my sentence was started. Prison life is supposed to help us realize our mistakes and strive to not make those same mistakes again.

  I couldn’t agree more. So far I’ve met a man who has a cousin on the outside who really likes blondes. I mean, really likes them. There is another guy with a tattoo of a teardrop next to his eye that knows where a budding marksman can find a weapon to hone his skill.

  So the Universe hasn’t turned on me. She hasn’t left me. She’s provided me with a banquet table of oysters each one with a valuable pearl nestled deep inside just waiting to be reaped.

  I’ll see my brother again and Natasha. I guess I should just call her my sister-in-law, right. Not this year. Not next year. Maybe not even the year after that. But some time, someday I will be released from here. I’ll shake hands with the friends I’ve made, clap the guards on the back and stroll out of this place climbing into my favorite sports car that Bernie will make sure is here and waiting and pick up where I left off. I won’t rush right over to Marty’s place. It will take some time. I’d hate to think he’d go out of his way baking a cake or getting the house all decorated and cleaned for my return.

  No, I’d rather it be a big surprise. Just one day I’ll show up on his doorstep. Maybe he’ll be the only one home. Maybe Natasha will be the only one home or maybe their child. It doesn’t matter. That day I will smile with open arms and tell my family I’m out of prison and that I am home.

  There are more bonus stories ahead…..just look what you want to read next via the Table of Contents (TOC)

  Billionaire’s Nanny Romance Series

  THE BILLIONAIRE’S NANNY (PART 1)

  Blurb

  Veronica Lawrence is a simple babysitter, who is content with her life with her boyfriend, Calvin. She has everything she could ever dream of and more- or so she thought. Without her knowledge Calvin sets her up with an interview for a job with the richest lawyer in the city, Frank Davenport, who Veronica discovers is incredibly attractive and alluring, almost to the point of distraction. She surprises both Calvin and herself by actually landing the job. There is a catch, though. If she wants to take the job, she must agree to move onto his large estate.

  While Calvin is reluctant, Veronica decides to take the job, and she finds herself surrounded by opulence and riches. Little did she know, though, that her employer would be quite so impossible to resist.

  Veronica heaved a sigh, readjusting the strap of her purse as she walked down the sidewalk. She had just finished up a babysitting job for one of the neighbors in her community. She had started doing as a quick way to make money in high school, and she had loved it so much then that she decided that was what she wanted to do for a living. Even as she earned her business degree, she had used babysitting as a way to get her through school.

  Even after she graduated, she had very little interest in picking up a job in the realm of business. Now that she was no longer in school, she had more time to devote to taking care of kids. In fact, in a way, that was sort of like a business in and of itself, and she ran it very efficiently. It didn’t bring in as much money as it could have, because often times the people she babysat for couldn’t pay as much as they had originally thought.

  While Veronica, too, needed the money, she couldn’t bring herself to demand money from people when she could clearly see they were just trying to get by and support their children. Veronica cut a lot people slack, and as a result she often had to live a lean life, but she didn’t mind it.

  That is, until she met her boyfriend, Calvin.

  Calvin was a young social climber, fresh out of law school. He frequented the same coffee shop that Veronica went to, and had taken a liking to her. Veronica had been interested in him as well, on account of his ambition and the fact that he was more than a little attractive. She could hardly resist flirting when he approached to talk with her one afternoon.

  It didn’t take long for them to start dating, and for a while Veronica was fairly happy with their relationship. They made plans for their future together, and Veronica could easily picture herself spending the rest of her life at his side, maybe even having some kids and buying a house. It only seemed natural when Calvin suggested that they get an apartment together and start making a life with each other.

  Veronica’s parents couldn’t; have been more thrilled for her. They loved Calvin, as he was a respectable young man who was steadily moving up in his career, and they knew he would provide stability in Veronica’s life. Veronica was glad they were both so supportive of her relationship with him, and she was eager to see where the future would take them.

  At some point, though, after they had spent about a year and a half together in, Calvin began to voice his true opinions about her line of work. Even now, as she headed home to their apartment, she felt a tension creep into her shoulders as she wondered what he would say when she told him she was short on money again.

  Calvin had a good job at a law firm, so money wasn’t an issue for him. Even so, she could tell it bothered him that she didn’t have what he considered a “real job”. He often tried to pressure her into looking for a job somewhere at an office, or at least to collect the correct amount of money for her services.

  Veronica could only prepare her usual list of responses and pick the most appropriate one for whatever argument he chose to employ.

  Veronica finally made it to their apartment building, and she rode the elevator up to her floor. She then made her way to the door of her apartment and unlocked it. She stepped inside silently, looking around and carefully listening to see if Calvin was home.

  Veronica didn’t see or hear anything, so she heaved a small sigh of relief, turning to shut the door behind her. She placed her small bag on the hall tree just beside the door, and moved into the kitchen, taking a glass from out of the cabinet and filling it up with water from the sink.

  Calvin hated when she did this, as he said the water from the fridge was more filtered. Veronica had been drinking water from the time she could even drink water at all, and it was a force of habit that compelled her to do so even in adulthood. She sipped at it slowly, letting it refresh her.

  When she had consumed all the liquid, she washed the glass and put it back in the cabinet. Another thing that Calvin hated was leaving unwashed dishes in the sink, so she didn’t want to give him any more of an excuse to be irritated when he got home.

  With that done, Veronica decided to go ahead and start dinner. She knew Calvin would be wanting to eat at around seven, and she knew it would take a couple of hours to get it all ready. So, Veronica changed into a set of comfortable yoga pants and a tank top and began the process of making their dinner.

  As she expected, Calvin came home around six. The door unlocked, and Veronica looked up as he stepped through the frame and shut the door behind him, offering him a smile.

  “Hey,” Calvin greeted her, moving over to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

  “Hey,” she replied as he set his things down by the hall tree. “How was your day?”

  “Pretty good,” he answered. “Same story different day, as usual.”

  Veronica nodded, looking down into the food she was cooking.


  “What about you?” Calvin asked, moving to lean against the counter beside the stove and cross his arms over his chest.

  “It was good,” she answered simply.

  “Who were the kids today?” he asked, and Veronica tensed, knowing that he was setting her up for another set of inquiries.

  “Toby and Alec,” she answered calmly, though she saw Calvin shake his head a little, pinching the bridge of his nose between this thumb and forefinger.

  “Should I even ask?” he bit out, and Veronica let out a sigh, shaking her head and turning to face him.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Veronica answered calmly. “Every time you ask, the answer is the same.”

  Calvin clenched his jaw and shook his head.

  “That’s exactly what I thought you were going to say,” he sighed.

  “Then why are we even having this conversation?” Veronica shook her head and returned her attention to the food on the stove.

  “Look,” Calvin sighed, his voice calmer. Veronica felt him place a hand on her shoulder, and she turned once more to look at him.

  “There’s something I want to talk to you about, but I need to get showered and changed first,” he said slowly. “Can we talk about it over dinner?”

  Veronica felt a twist of anxiety in her stomach, and she wondered how on earth this conversation was going to go. Still, she knew they would have to talk about whatever it was at some point, and she may as well get it out of the way as soon as possible.

  “Okay, sure,” Veronica nodded.

  “Okay,” Calvin said. “I’ll be out in a little while.”

  Veronica watched out of the corner of her eye as he left the room, and she let out a puff of air once he was out of the room. She shook her head as she continued to cook. There was no point in worrying herself over whatever it was he had to say to her. All she could do was make dinner and be prepared to listen with an open mind.