by Nesly Clerge
CHAPTER 68
“JACKSON, YOU WERE up with the worms this morning. Even missed the count.”
“I checked in. There was something I had to take care of.”
“Such as?”
Jackson shrugged. “Something personal. Not a big deal.”
Starks watched Jackson, whose expression stayed unreadable. “If you say so. The crew’s meeting after the count at eleven. I checked your schedule. You’re free. If you’re not, you need to be.”
“Where?”
“Laundry room.”
“It’s gonna look suspicious if we keep meeting there.”
“Let me worry about that. Just show up.”
“Sure thing, boss man.”
Starks ignored the barb. “Had to talk to Kane this morning. The kid hit a pocket of depression, the kind that leads to inmates hanging themselves or drinking drain cleaner. I think I convinced him that wasn’t the way. I hope I did.”
Jackson shook his head. “I said it. Instead of soldiers you’re bringing in toddlers who need to be potty trained. Or on meds.”
“I don’t want any shit about Ethan. As for Kane, he does remind me of my boys. He’s got that same innocence in his face and demeanor.”
Jackson unspooled a length of dental floss and began running it between his teeth. “So you feel responsible for him.”
“Something like that. I got too close to that ledge a few times. I know what it’s like.” Starks hesitated then said, “I want him to move in here.”
Jackson dragged the string slowly between his teeth. “He gonna bunk with you?”
“Don’t be an ass. I’d like you to switch cells with someone in this block. I want to keep it easy for us to talk. I told Kane I’d arrange it.”
“You had no right, man. You wanna bunk with the kid, you move.”
“All the commissary you want for a month. On me.”
Jackson turned the tap on high, prepped his toothbrush and ran it around in his mouth for a minute. He rinsed and spit. “Two months. And you better make damn sure my cellmate isn’t any crazy mother.”
“I will.”
“You about to piss off some guy who wants to move about as much as I do.”
“They move people around all the time.”
“When’s this supposed to happen?”
“As soon as I can set it up.”
“Who you gonna get to do that?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Two months of commissary?”
“Make it three.”
Jackson stuck out his lower lip. “You love him more than me.”
Starks threw a towel at him. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t feel it was a matter of life or death.”
“What can I say? It was good while it lasted.”
CHAPTER 69
MOST OF STARKS’S crew was in the laundry room when he and Jackson arrived. The last few trailed in within minutes. Tank was one of them. Grinning, he fake-boxed Jackson’s arm playfully and said, “Where you been? Thought maybe you joined a different gang.”
“I’ve been working and minding my fucking business.”
Tank put his hands up. “Somebody’s got a thorn branch up his ass this morning. No offense meant, man.”
Starks said, “At least three of you get washing machines going so we cover our voices.”
Pete said, “What if others come in?”
“I took care of that.” Starks waited until the machines began to fill with water. “Move in close enough to hear me. New members, the first thing I want to do is emphasize loyalty. Any of you—new or not—feel you can’t be loyal to the crew, this is your chance to leave. Stay and betray,” he looked at the men, “and the consequences won’t be pleasant.”
The men glanced at each other. Pete said, “We’re with you.”
Starks nodded. “Second thing is income for you. I’m working on getting burner phones. Inmates will pay to use them. Once we’re in business, use common sense about who, what, when, how, and where you tell. Let new users know the first hour is on me. After that, it’s a dollar for every half hour or increment. Whether they talk five minutes or thirty, it’s a dollar. Explain the consequences of getting caught with a phone; although, most of them should already know this. Anybody gets caught, it’s on them. Anyone caught who snitches,” Starks dragged his index finger across his neck. “Got it?”
One of the new members asked, “What’s in it for us?”
“You’ll each be in charge of your phone. You’ll get all the fees for the first month for people you line up. Those of you standing here now use the phones for no charge. Within limits. You tie up the phones with your calls, there won’t be any fees to collect or too little to matter.” Starks pointed at the group. “And you keep that arrangement to yourselves. We get any new crew members, they’ll get phones as well, and they’ll get the same bonus but they’ll pay fifty cents a half hour for calls, same increment plan as for users. You’re all on the honor system. Give me a reason to believe you’re cheating, and you’re out of business and the crew. Don’t get greedy and blow the whole thing up. Or land some or all of us in the SHU. Any questions?”
Pete said, “Just asking, Starks, but what happened in the yard yesterday? How come we didn’t stand up to those guys?”
Starks looked at Pete a few moments then directed his gaze around the small crowd of men waiting for his answer. “In here, especially, you have to decide when to fight and when to wait. Fight every time, and you’ll find yourself in isolation more than out. That’s no way to live or even exist. Not only that, if you always engage,” a slight smile formed on his lips, “you lose the element of surprise later on. If you show your hand every time, you’ve got nothing to go on, no way to win. As far as those guys in the yard go, don’t worry about it. I’m taking care of that particular matter. The person we need to be concerned most about right now is Crazy D.” He held up his bandaged wrist. “You know I was attacked while in the SHU. The most likely one behind it is him, even if he wasn’t holding the knife. Whether it was or wasn’t him behind the attack, he still has it out for me, which means he considers you guys targets as well. We need to act before he does.”
“Now you’re talking,” Pete said.
Ethan stepped forward several inches and stuttered, “Let me take care of him, Starks.”
After a moment, all the crew members but Starks laughed. Starks’s scowl silenced them. He was quiet for several moments then said, “Okay, Ethan. You handle it.
“Meeting’s over. Do laundry if you need to or leave. I know that some of you have other things to take care of.” Several men nodded at Starks and left. Some of the men whispered among themselves as they cast wary glances at Ethan.
Jackson sidled up to Starks. “Are you serious? Or crazy? Why are you letting that nutcase handle something this important?”
“His name’s Ethan. I’m not yet certain whether his behaviors are real or faked. What I do know is what I saw with my own eyes.” Starks recounted what he’d witnessed in the chow hall. “No one saw what he did but me, and that’s only because I paid attention. It was a slight of hand—two hands—a former stage magician like you should appreciate.”
Jackson nodded and cast his eyes to Ethan. “Wish I’d seen that.”
“You’re the only person I’ve told. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“No problem.”
Jackson and Starks watched Ethan, who stood in front of a dryer, grinning as he watched clothes flopping around, moving his head in a circle to match the spin.
“Let’s hope,” Jackson said, “he’s as clever with this task, and doesn’t get skewered.”
“He’s faster and smoother than he looks.”
“And maybe the most expendable?”
It was almost a quarter to six that evening when Mike caught up with Starks on the way to his block. With a lowered voice, he told Starks, “Just heard the three guys that faced off with you and Ethan in the yard were found under the
bleachers, moaning and not too eager to get up. You said you’d taken care of them. Was it our guys?”
“If a few of our crew show up with dragon head tats, maybe it was.” He winked. “Almost time for the count. Get going so you’re not late.”
“When do I get my tat?”
“When you’ve earned it.”
“When’s that going to happen?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Starks headed to his cell. Why would his crew consider getting the tattoo as important as his boys had scout badges? He’d gotten the dragon partially as an act of rebellion and as a talisman to keep him strong as he forged ahead with his plan. His crew’s motivation was nothing like that.
He glanced at inmates as he continued to D-Block. Some of the men laughed and kidded around. Their smiles tried but failed to hide other feelings always apparent in their eyes. He stopped outside his cell and looked back.
Then he knew: No matter the number of men here, each one of them felt alone. They wanted to belong, to matter, to count to and for something. And to someone. The tattoo was a symbol of belonging. It meant they were included. Chosen. Accepted just as they are.
The effect of his plan was taking on new texture, one beyond his original goal.
He didn’t know how he felt about that.
CHAPTER 70
FISTS ON HIPS, Starks glared at Tank. “I asked you to spot me. Are you going to do it or just stand there scratching your balls?”
Tank glanced at Stinky, who was a few feet to their left, prepping to do shoulder presses. Stinky shrugged. Tank said, “You shouldn’t be pressing weights till the doc says you can.”
“Lower your voice.” Starks looked around to see if anyone was listening. If anyone was, it wasn’t obvious. “It’s my wrist, and I say it’s healed enough. It’s been over a week. Now, spot me.”
“Whatever you say.”
Starks positioned himself on the bench. It was a struggle to lift the heavy weight from his chest, but he did. There was a slight twinge in his wrist after the fifth rep, but he made it to the fifteenth. He sat up and said, “That was my max weight. So far.”
“That was a good set. Some heavy pressing for a guy your size. Wrist okay?”
“It’s fine.”
Starks watched several of his crew work out. Three of them sported fresh tattoos. In business, he’d had influence over his employees, who were loyal out of respect for his massive success and business acumen, and how he took care of those under him. Here, it wasn’t a matter of influence, but of control. He had control over his crew, but he wasn’t certain yet about their loyalty. How much loyalty do some drowning men feel about saving others going under near them?
Still, they seemed willing to obey his commands. For now. Some might view this as power. It was, in a way, but it came with responsibility he wasn’t accustomed to: Life or death. His crew members, so eager to fight, hadn’t realized this about his role as leader. Not yet. For them, fighting or not fighting was all about reputation. It was about making a statement that said you weren’t an easy target. Every inmate at Sands felt—knew—he walked around with an invisible bull’s-eye on his back. If an inmate was edgy, he had cause. But it was imperative to figure out when to stay on the edge and when to go over.
He turned his attention to Ethan, who was doing a half-assed job of curls with a five-pound dumbbell. The young man stopped the curls and started to wave the weight in a circular motion above his head. Starks narrowed his eyes and wondered, again, if Ethan was not in his right mind or was deliberate about crafting a dog-and-pony show.
Stinky completed his sets of shoulder presses then stood next to Starks. “Not that I doubt you or your decision, but are you sure about that guy? I don’t feel as confident as you do about him handling Crazy D.”
“I know why you doubt him, but is there another reason you’re asking?”
“It’s been days since he volunteered. So far, all he’s done is ask questions about Crazy D.”
“Sounds like he’s getting intel.”
“Some intel. He’s asking about weird shit like what kind of food Crazy D likes, how fast he eats, how often he uses the toilet. Sounds more like a bizarre fetish.”
Starks nodded. “Seems like an odd direction, but I’m sure he has a plan, or will.”
“His questions are gonna draw Crazy D’s attention to him.”
“But they’re so innocuous people will think they’re part of his mental affliction. Even if Crazy D hears about it, and he will, he won’t take it seriously.”
“Yeah, but it’s obvious Ethan’s with you. You don’t think that’ll make Crazy D suspicious?”
“It might. But Crazy D is arrogant. He won’t see Ethan as a threat. He might even try to get Ethan to switch teams, just to stick it to me. There’s a lot about Ethan I’m not sure of, but I believe he’s loyal to me. I took him in when no one wanted anything to do with him, unless it was to hassle him.”
“I don’t know.” Stinky looked left. “Dave’s heading our way.”
“I really need to get the new crew members’ names down.”
Dave stopped in front of Starks and Stinky. “I got some new recruits lined up. Told them you gotta approve first. Some of the other guys did the same. We’re also getting some,” he glanced around, “potential customers as well. Those inmates are damn excited about getting more time to talk with their families. And others. Unmonitored. Know what this means for some of these guys?”
Starks nodded. “I do.” He kept to himself that certain gang leaders weren’t going to be pleased at all. That was a bridge he hadn’t yet reached.
But he was getting closer.
CHAPTER 71
HALF THE TABLES in the visitation room had people at them. Still, it was easy to spot Jenny and Richard. They sat as near the exit as possible and looked as tense as most first-timers waiting for an inmate to arrive. Jenny saw him first. She nudged Richard with her elbow and waved. Starks smiled and waved back.
Richard stood, Jenny stayed seated. Starks extended his hand, which Richard shook, and then he gave Jenny a light kiss on the cheek.
Jenny waited until Starks sat then said, “Jeffrey told us you look different. I just didn’t expect…” She blushed and ran her fingers through her short auburn hair.
“Everything’s probably a shock for you: this place, me.”
Richard cleared his throat. “I’m guessing you’re trying to look like you fit in, right? I mean, this isn’t the new you or anything. Is it?”
“You got it,” Starks replied. “Just playing the part so people leave me alone as much as possible.”
Jenny asked, “So how are you, really?”
“I’m hanging in there. Everything okay with you two, with your kids?”
“We’re all fine,” Richard replied. “It’s you we’re concerned about. We know you’ve had a rough time since you got here. More than rough.”
Starks shrugged and smiled. “You know me; I bounce back. I find or create a way through obstacles.”
“Always admired that about you, Starks. Anyway, Jeffrey said you wanted to see us. What can we do for you? Name it. If we can do it, we will.”
Starks looked directly at Jenny. “Everything you said about Kayla and Ozy during my trial was what you told me before this fiasco ever happened. Is there anything else you know but perhaps forgot or hesitated to tell me? Or didn’t think it was important enough to mention? Anything at all may help me.”
Jenny focused on her hands folded in her lap. “Kayla told me a lot.”
“Too damn much,” Richard said. “I should never have allowed you to resume your friendship with that slut.”
Jenny kept her eyes aimed down. “I didn’t know she was like that.”
“You knew soon enough. And you still kept going out with her.”
“I thought I could be a positive influence.”
Richard snorted. “Backfired, didn’t it? Damn near cost us our marriage.” He faced Starks. “I still ca
n’t believe that after how hard you worked for twenty years to buy the selfish bitch everything she wanted, she cheated on you. And how she could fall in love with that bastard, Ozy, a married man for God’s sake, is still something I can’t figure out.”
Jenny placed her hand on Richard’s arm. “You always get distraught when you talk about her. We’re here for Starks.”
Richard took a deep breath and let it out. “Sorry. It’s just that I hate the woman.” He stared at his wife’s hand on his arm.
Starks expected Richard to take Jenny’s hand in his, but he didn’t. He glanced from one to the other. “I’m sorry if my bringing this up is upsetting.”
Jenny cast a quick look at Richard then back down. She removed her hand from her husband’s arm. “It’s not always easy, but sometimes you have to practice forgiveness.”
Richard turned in his chair to face his wife. “If you mean I should forgive Kayla, you can forget it. If you mean I should forgive you for what you did and almost did while going to clubs with her, I’m doing the best I can.”
“People make mistakes,” Jenny muttered. “Kayla once said that most men aren’t as forgiving as women are.” She looked at Starks. “I see Kayla in church fairly often. Not every Sunday, but—”
“Seriously, woman?” Richard said. “She was going to church when we met her. She wasn’t pious then and she isn’t now. It’s all for show. Believe me, everyone knows the truth. She’s not fooling anyone but herself. She’s still the whore she always was.”
“Richard, honey, you need to calm down. Guards are looking this way. We’re here because Starks needs our help. My help.” She looked at Starks. “If I have any to offer.”
Richard rubbed his face. “Again, I’m sorry, Starks.”
“It’s okay. I still get enraged sometimes. It can sneak up on you.” Starks directed his focus at Jenny. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Kayla and Ozy’s time together?”
