The Starks Trilogy (Book 1 & 2)

by Nesly Clerge

  “Won’t be long before people start coming to you for favors and contraband.”

  “If I can help with favors, and if they’re favors I’m on board with, no problem. As for contraband? I’ll leave that up to someone else. I have no interest in becoming a broker.”

  Jackson leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You ought to reconsider, man. Things like cigarettes, drugs, booze, cell phones, and other such shit keep prisoners going. It’s the infrastructure, if you get my drift. Might as well get a share of it, if not the biggest piece of it.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Then you wouldn’t get pissed if I got involved, maybe even became point man?”

  “Knock yourself out, as long as my name’s not dragged into it.”

  “Like it or not, people are gonna assume you’re lead man. They’re wanting to lean that way now.”

  “Let them lean.”

  “Just give it some thought. You’ve got assets I don’t have. I’d handle the administrative parts but it’d go a lot smoother if people thought it’s you they’re dealing with in the long run. I’ve got some guys in mind… for muscle. You know? They can be the runners, the go-between people. They can keep people in line.”

  Starks dropped his fork into the food on his tray. “Lost my appetite.”

  “Look, this would amp up my rep in here, but man, this would give you some serious clout. It’s a big fucking pond. You really want to stay a little fish in it? It’s one thing to take care of a few COs; it’s another to get a large number of inmates in your corner. Easier to get recruits if they already depend on you. Get enough of them on your side and no one’s gonna want to challenge you, and they’ll go against anyone who does.”

  “Do you stay awake at night thinking up this bullshit?”

  “I’m looking out for your interests.” He glanced at Starks then quickly looked down. “I’d like to think we’re kind of, you know, partners. At least think about it.”

  Starks’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not trying to secure profits; I’m trying to stay alive and un-mangled. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  He knocked on the table, got up and dumped his tray then headed for the yard. His scowl eased into a smile.

  CHAPTER 103

  THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES INTO his next session, after Starks had shared more about the past, he confessed something that caught Demory by surprise.

  He avoided looking at the counselor as he spoke.

  “My attempt on my life when I was in isolation wasn’t the first time. When I learned the whole truth about Kayla, I had no soul left. If I’d had a gun, I would have killed myself. The range of emotions I felt are too hard to describe. I can say I was hurt to my core. That hurt battled with denial, until I had to face facts: I was married to a total stranger. Then I’d be angry one minute and despondent the next, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Other times it was like I was having a bad dream, and I waited for my wife to shake me awake.

  “Something came over me and I convinced myself the best way to get rid of this pain was to meet my maker. I got into my car, looked for the nearest sturdy pole, punched the gas and hit it head-on. My head struck the steering wheel, and that was all I could remember about the incident. I woke up in the hospital with a broken arm, contusions, and facial lacerations.”

  “How long did these suicidal thoughts continue?”

  “The thought entered my mind several times. I wasn’t able to deal with the humiliation and betrayal.”

  “There’re always three sides to a story: Yours, hers, and the truth. You made mistakes, just as she did.”

  Starks stayed motionless.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Demory said.

  Starks rested his forearms on his thighs. “You’re right that I’ve made some mistakes as well. There was a woman.” He paused. “Cathy.”

  “I’ve wanted to ask about her.”

  “She got pregnant; we had a son. He drowned when he was five. I still have nightmares about him.”

  “You’re dealing with more than I realized. Tell me more about—”

  “I’m telling you this for a reason, Doc. You have a lot of opinions, and I’m sure it’s easy to state them from where you’re sitting. But all your advice and platitudes won’t solve my problems or make my hurt and anger go away. I can’t do this right now; I’m stopping this session.” Starks rubbed his face and stood up. “Are you here next week?”

  “Yes, and probably the week after that as well. There’s a delay in getting a replacement.”

  “Next week, then.”

  Starks left Demory’s office, wondering if there was anyone anywhere who could relate to what he felt, and could do so without judging him. Demory hadn’t mentioned forgiveness for a while, and a good thing, too—he would’ve told him where to stick it. Some people didn’t deserve forgiveness. Like Kayla, Ozy, Bo, and Lawson, and anyone else who trampled him in a similarly egregious way.

  Whatever he’d done that hurt Kayla, it would never match what she’d done to him then—and now.

  Betrayal was unforgivable.

  He was reading at his desk when Jackson strolled into the cell after his kitchen shift.

  Jackson clapped his hands together once. “We’re in, man. The guys in the kitchen cut me in on the cell phone racket they’ve got going. It’s my foot in the door.” Still smiling, he plunked down into his chair. “They wanna meet with us.”

  Starks turned his head back to his book. “No reason to meet with me. That’s your gig.”

  “Don’t be such a selfish prick.”

  Starks faced his cellmate; his expression was threatening. “You sure you want to go down that path, Jackson?”

  “Not everybody is loaded like you. Maybe this doesn’t matter to you but it sure as hell does to me. You’re gaining respect in here, man. I need that too.”

  “Any respect I have in here, I earned. The hard way.”

  “Yeah, you earned it. I’ve earned some but I need more.” He pointed at Starks. “You’d probably still be planning what to do about Bo if it hadn’t been for me.”

  “Point taken. But I told you—”

  “You know what? Fuck it. I have to do this, with or without you. But I’d prefer it be with you. Don’t you get it? I’d be safer if people thought you had my back.”

  “I have your back. As much as I can.”

  Jackson crossed the narrow space. “Then come with me. Meet with these three guys. Look, it’s one thing to have the Hermanos sort of watching out for us. But that’s not your safest bet. Same for the COs. You need more levels of protection. We need our own people. It’s strategy, man. You see that, don’t you?”

  “When and where is the meeting?”

  CHAPTER 104

  THE NEXT DAY, Starks left the library under Paco’s watch, giving him five dollars to buy lunch once Starks returned. He rushed to get a couple of ham sandwiches from the commissary then hurried to meet Jackson, who didn’t start his shift in the kitchen until two that day. Jackson was waiting for him at the door that exited to the yard. They ate quickly as they made their way to the small set of bleachers by the track at the far end of the field. Three inmates waited there, all of them African-American. They talked among themselves in hushed tones and went silent when Starks and Jackson approached them.

  Starks nodded at the tall, slender inmate sitting one row above the other two then at the one with average height and build, then at the short one built like a pit bull. His gaze returned to the average man; he looked familiar. A breeze blew from behind the men. Starks backed up, throwing his hand over his nose. “What the hell is that stench?”

  Everyone but Starks laughed. The tall one pointed at the short, muscular guy. “That’s why we call him Stinky. He doesn’t like to shower more than once a week.”

  Starks looked directly at the odorous man. “Why the hell not?”

  “No one can get it up and keep it up with a smell this bad hitting him in the face. They leave me the fuck a
lone.”

  “What do you do on the days you shower?” Starks asked.

  “Anyway,” Jackson said, “this is Starks.”

  “We know who he is.” This was from the tall guy. He looked directly at Starks. “Name’s Pete. This guy,” he pointed to the third inmate, “is Tommy.”

  Jackson continued. “I already discussed with you what we’re looking for. What I—we—want to know is if you’re in.”

  The three looked at each other. Tommy said, “I’m in.”

  Starks recognized the voice; a brief replay ran through his mind. “No one’s in unless I say they’re in. You’re the guy who started the fight with one of the Hermanos in the chow hall.”

  “Yeah. I’m on your side. Proved it that day.”

  “You were on Bo’s side. I don’t know that I can trust a man whose loyalties shift so easily.”

  “I get that. Gotta prove myself to you. Earn my stripes.” He pointed to himself and the other two men. “Give us a chance. Whatever you want us to do, we’ll do.”

  “Why’d you betray Bo?”

  “Man was a prick. He thought the more people he could make afraid of him the more powerful motherfucker he was. Making enemies… pissing people off right and left. Caused us a lot a shit. Had to clean up after the stupid bastard all the damn time. You’re not stupid, though. You’re not gonna put us in the shit like Bo did. Plus, Bo was a stingy mother. Word is you’re generous.”

  Starks fixed his gaze on the man. “Loyalty isn’t a buzzword with me. I take it seriously.”

  Tommy jumped up. “I showed my loyalty that day. What the fuck I get for it? Two days in the SHU and a bust-down on my parole—for you. Never got no thank-you, neither.”

  “You’re right. Thank you.” Starks looked at Jackson then back at the men. “I’ll let you know.”

  He walked away from the sound of their mutterings and Jackson trying to persuade them to be patient. An image flashed in his mind: The Hall of Mirrors found at funhouses and carnivals. No matter how anyone moved in front of the mirrors, reality got and stayed distorted. It’s the same here, he thought.

  ***

  Starks nodded at Paco then went directly to the back office. He sat at his desk, fuming. Waiting. He didn’t wait long.

  Jackson stormed in.

  “Close the door,” Starks told him.

  Jackson did, stopping just short of slamming it.

  “Act right. The inmates are watching.”

  “Fuck them. What happened back there? You have any idea how much talking I had to do to convince those guys to be on my side—our side?”

  “Not according to Bo’s guy. He said he’s ‘loyal’ to me. You want to be point man and you call in people like him? I can’t trust him. And since the other two were with him, I can’t trust them, either. And neither should you.”

  “If trust is the big fucking issue, you’re gonna have a hell of a time finding anyone. They have to earn your trust? They have to prove their loyalty? You don’t think you have to prove your loyalty to them? It’s a two-way street, man. Who’re you gonna find in this place to fit your,” he used his fingers to make quotation marks in the air, “requirements?”

  “You mean after you?”

  Jackson’s angry expression shifted. “Shit.” He kicked at the desk. “Sorry, man.”

  “Skullars Bailey.”

  “You lost me.”

  “I’ll start with him.”

  “I don’t know him.”

  “You’ll meet him soon enough.” Starks trained his eyes on the ceiling. “I saw him in action. Strong. Fearless. Already did time in the SHU and didn’t care for it.”

  “Why would he hook up with you?”

  “I helped him, in a manner of speaking. Look, Jackson, you know the saying: You’re as strong as your weakest link. You can’t pick just anyone. I think your own delusions of grandeur are interfering with your common sense. You have people-reading skills, so use them the right way.”

  “Is Skullars smart?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to say he could be the brains behind anything but he isn’t stupid. You said you need muscle. He’s definitely that.”

  “Since you know him, you’ll have to talk to him.”

  “I intend to.”

  Jackson, grinning, bounced up on his toes and back down a few times. “So… this mean you’re in?”

  Starks sighed. “I’m in, and getting deeper.”

  CHAPTER 105

  SIMMONS FOUND STARKS working his shift in the library.

  “Starks. Visitor waiting.”

  “Any idea who it is?”

  “Real pretty… and ripe… least, that’s what I heard.”

  “Thanks. I just need to finish this one entry and I’m on my way.”

  “Later.”

  Starks felt two things at once: Annoyed that Emma had returned, despite what he’d said, and excited that she still wanted to see him enough that she’d ignore his wishes.

  He paused just inside the door of the crowded visitation room. It took a moment before he found the familiar face. The fucking bitch had her nerve.

  Kayla was familiar enough with his expression of rage to first open her eyes wide then cast her eyes at the two visitors sitting next to her, whom he hadn’t seen. His sons, Blake and Nathan, sat open-mouthed as they looked at people unlike any they’d ever been exposed to during their mostly sheltered life.

  Kayla stood to greet him; every muscle in his body constricted when he saw her swollen belly. She instinctively placed both hands across her abdomen. This protective action was more than familiar to him. His heart wrenched at how beautiful she looked; the memories of how she’d glowed when she’d carried his children were driven to the surface as though fresh. He was both anxious and delighted to see his sons but he wasn’t fooled: she’d brought them with her to ensure he’d be on his best behavior.

  “Hey, Starks.” Kayla lowered her eyes when he didn’t respond.

  Blake and Nathan turned their heads in unison at the sound of their father’s name. They leaped from their chairs, calling over and over, “Daddy!”

  Their chairs were knocked over in their rush to get to their father. Starks bent down, wrapping his arms around the boys clinging to him. He glanced at the guard nearest them to see if there was about to be trouble for the noise and contact. The plea in his eyes, or the guard’s empathy, made the CO nod and look away.

  “Let me look at you both. You’re getting so big.”

  Blake tugged on his arm. “Dad! Dad! I got straight A’s. Mom said we can get a Playstation. And… and… Kaitlin couldn’t come ’cause only three people can come. That’s sooo unfair. She cried and cried. We left her with grandma so Nanny Anita could have some personal time.” Starks didn’t ask which grandmother but was fairly certain it was not his mother.

  “I’m sorry to miss her. Tell her I send a big kiss and hug. And about your grades, that’s great, Blake.” He turned to his other son. “What about you, Nate? Did you get good grades?”

  Nathan looked down at his shoes. “Yeah.” He shuffled his feet. “I don’t know why you’re here. Only bad people go to jail. You’re not bad.” He looked at his father with such earnestness in his eyes, Starks choked up. The boy glanced at the nearest guard then back at his father. “I’ll tell them, Dad. I’ll tell them you’re not bad and they’ll let you come home with us now. They’ll have to.”

  “I’m sorry, Nate. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “When are you coming home, Dad?”

  “Let’s sit. We need to keep our voices down so we don’t disturb the other visitors.”

  It took a few moments to noisily get the chairs up and in place and the boys seated. Starks continued to ignore Kayla. He knew she was studying his face; knew she could easily recognize the emotions he struggled to manage at one time: Anger, hurt, love, loathing, delight, disgust. And he knew she knew which emotions were for the boys and which were for her.

  He looked back and forth between
his sons, holding their attention. “How are things at the house? Bret and his girls treating you right?”

  Nathan shifted in his chair. “He—” His brother elbowed him hard. “Ow! Blake hit me.”

  “I didn’t hit you; I elbowed you. Mom said not to talk about what happens in her house, and you know it.”

  “Look at me, boys. I’m not asking about what happens there. I just want to know if Bret is looking out for you—taking care of you—in a way that’s… comfortable and okay with you.”

  There was a flicker of something in each of their faces. Whether it was fear about Bret or fear their mother would be angry if they said anything at all was unclear. Nor did he want to put them in a bad position; he well knew what kind of ride home they’d have if they said more than their mother wanted them to. Still, he craved an answer that assured him they were safe.

  Blake swung his legs for a few moments then answered. “We’re all right. But we miss you.”

  “I miss you and Kaitlin too. Listen, boys. I want you to pay careful attention to what I’m about to say. Are you both listening?” He waited for nods from his sons, who kept their eyes fixed on his. “Anybody ever tries to hurt you or mistreat you, or does, you call your uncle Jeffrey and tell him. He’ll take care of you. You both still know his number, right?” Both boys in turn said “Yes, Dad.”

  “Now, tell me what’s been going on with you guys and your sister.”

  It was a bittersweet visit that lasted an hour, with the boys interrupting each other repeatedly while trying to tell Starks all their news and pour out the usual chatter they engaged in. It was so much like their time together before everything changed that it ached in a way he thought he couldn’t stand. He struggled to keep the gnawing emotion from them.

  The boys handled the visit better than he did, and he was proud of them. At the same time, he’d noted how often Kayla shifted in her chair, uncomfortable because of its design and her pregnancy. He also knew, from experience, that she needed a restroom but didn’t want to leave the boys alone with him or use one here. He kept his smile of satisfaction about this to himself.