by Nesly Clerge
Starks returned his focus to the book, but didn’t read. Instead, he wondered what he’d taken on. And why. Sure, he understood what Kane felt about being in prison, and wanted to help. But the weight of the burden created knots in Starks’s shoulders and stomach.
He hadn’t felt this particular pressure of responsibility since Blake had been born. But Blake wasn’t his. Not one inmate he now hauled behind him was ultimately his responsibility.
So why did he feel so damn responsible?
CHAPTER 74
SUNDAY MORNINGS AT his former home with Kayla had tended to be sedate. Even Starks’s children had reflected the calmer, slower energy. Until the five of them headed out to the pool in the spacious backyard of their Weston home. Then all bets were off as the children burned energy stored overnight. He and Kayla would recline on the chaise longues and sip Bloody Marys while the housekeeper prepared a brunch that catered to everyone’s preferences. Those days were now relegated to his memories-only file.
The fact, he admitted to himself, was that those more pleasant days had disappeared long before he was incarcerated. That had been the Sunday morning routine until the last two years he and Kayla lived together, before he moved out for the second and final time. During their last few months together, Kayla’s Sunday mornings involved taming a hangover from too much partying, not that she limited going out until all hours to Saturday nights only. Plus, there were their fights about what time she’d come home and who she’d been out with. His own partying with other women was done on weeknights, but never overnight, unless he lied to Kayla about a business trip. And he never partied in a way that would infringe on weekend family time. Once their fights started happening frequently, there was no more family time outside or anywhere. The children stayed upstairs unless the crash of objects thrown or police showing up brought them in a thumping rush down the stairs to see how much of their world had shattered along with glass.
Children had a right to feel secure, protected. That his children hadn’t felt this was a different kind of scar he carried.
That slower Sunday effect had influence at Sands as well. Inmates, typically, were less rowdy. Some went to religious services and bible study. Some kept mostly to their cells, catching up on sleep. The worst of the bunch scouted for easy marks among inmates; their dysfunctional way of proving to themselves they were still alive, still had power, even if only over those weaker than themselves. Most visitors preferred Saturday over Sunday as the day to make the trip to and from the prison to see their loved ones or friends.
The first night with Kane had gone well enough. Almost too quiet. Kane deferred to Starks in every way, even waited to be spoken to. The kid needed to get a backbone. And, nearly every time he looked at the young man, he found those wide brown eyes aimed at him. Like the cocker spaniel he and Kayla had over twenty years ago, only Kane’s hair was dark instead of caramel. Starks half expected the kid to trip on his paws or wag his tail when he was given any attention.
At breakfast, where all but Jackson and Ethan were at the table, Kane announced he and Starks were now cellmates. Faces turned toward Starks, faces with a variety of expressions that weren’t difficult to read. No one said anything. For too long. Only Trevor made his thoughts known when he snorted. Then they got back to the business of trying to eat the unpalatable offerings and talking among themselves.
Tank sat on the other side of Starks. At a volume only Starks could hear he said, “What’s up with that? You have any idea how that looks to these men?”
“Anybody has a problem with anything I do or don’t do, tell them to take it up with me.” Starks broke a piece off the hard roll and popped it into his mouth. “Do you have a problem with this new arrangement?”
“Nah, man. I know you’re straight. I figure Kane’s maybe like a substitute for your kids or something.”
“My speech about loyalty wasn’t me blowing smoke.”
“You can count on me. Anyone complains it’s ’cause they don’t know a good thing. They wouldn’t get the same treatment from any other leader in here. Any of them doubt that, all they have to do is watch and learn.”
“I don’t like my decisions to be questioned. Any decision.”
“I’ll make sure they understand.”
Starks said to his crew members, “When I’m done here, I’m heading to the yard. Any or all of you are welcome to join me.”
Trevor smirked and said, “We know Kane will. Hey, we should take bets on how brown his nose gets and how fast.”
Starks lowered his fork and put his full attention on Trevor. “Another crack from you,” he looked up and down the table, “from any of you, and you’re out. Did you all get that or do I need to repeat myself?”
Tank glared at Trevor. “You gonna be the rotten mother in the bunch?”
Color spread across Trevor’s cheeks. “I was just joking around.”
Starks rapped on the table and stood. “Join me or not. If you want out altogether, do it now, before I entrust you with anything you’re too immature or too stupid to handle.”
Kane rapped and got up. Two-thirds of the crew followed Starks to the yard. They sat on the bleachers, some with their eyes closed against the sunlight; others watched what was going on around them.
One of the newer inmates glanced at Kane several times, until he closed the few feet that separated them. “If I get a couple gloves and a ball, wanna toss a few back and forth?”
“Sure.” Kane looked at Starks, who nodded, and then bounded from the bleachers.
Tank said, “He really is a kid.”
“He’s going to have to grow up fast. There’s only so much coddling I can or will do. The rest is up to him. By the way, what’s that inmate’s name?”
“Willie.”
Kane and Willie stood about ten yards apart. Starks watched the ball pass easily back and forth between them. Like the way he and Jeffrey used to play as kids, or how he’d played catch with Blake and Nathan. With Kaitlin, play was usually a tea party with her favorite dolls and stuffed animals, all named, of course. She used to roll her eyes at him when he got one of their names wrong or forgot altogether. She was eight going on nine. Maybe the tea parties had stopped. Starks felt his throat tighten with longing and grief at what he was missing. The losses were too great to measure without cracking even more inside.
Willie and Kane added another couple yards between them. Willie’s pitch overshot. Kane ran to retrieve the ball, which bounced and hit the back of an inmate’s thigh. The inmate, nearly as bulky as Tank, grabbed Kane by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
CHAPTER 75
STARKS ROCKETED FROM the bleachers. His feet churned up dust as he ran at speed. He skidded to a stop and said, “Put him down.”
The man sneered. “Sure. I’ll put the little cocksucker down. Permanently.”
Starks’s left hand grazed the knitting needle in his hem. To draw it out and use it, as exposed as he was, would be a devastating move. “You know what I mean. Release him. Now.”
“Or what?” The expression on the man’s face altered when he glanced past Starks. The crew approached and formed a circle around them. The inmate moved his feet several more inches apart to secure his balance.
Tank cracked his knuckles. “You heard the man. Put. The boy. Down. Or we gonna put you down.”
Kane gasped as his face turned darker. His struggle against the man’s grip diminished as each second ticked by.
It was taking too long. Starks retreated and went behind his crew members, until he was in back of the man. Kane’s bulging eyes shifted to him; pleaded for help. Panic and rage competed inside Starks. He swung his right leg back hard then forward and kicked up. The man let go of Kane and crumpled to the ground, cradling the injured genitals between his legs.
Starks dashed to Kane, who gasped and sputtered for air. The attacker’s handprint showed red on the boy’s neck. Kane would never forget this moment, and would have the bruise that drove it home for about a wee
k. “Let the breaths come slow and easy, kid. You’re okay.”
He stood and scanned the yard for the guards. It wasn’t that he wanted to involve them, it was that he didn’t. A few COs on his payroll were watching; the shake of Starks’s head was subtle. The guards turned away and pretended not to notice what was going on. Starks faced his men who waited for orders. “Some of you take that trash to his cell and explain to him why what he did isn’t to ever happen again. Nothing too severe, just enough to make an impression. We don’t want any of us put into isolation. The rest of you get the crowd we attracted to go back to what they were doing.”
Five of his crew half dragged, half carried the inmate away; Tank was one of them. The others did as told. Inmates in the yard moved away slowly.
One inmate lingered and said to Starks, “You do that for everyone in your gang or just him?”
Starks glared at the man for a moment then said, “I protect my people.”
The inmate nodded, said, “Good to know,” and then departed.
Starks squatted next to Kane. “How you doing, kid?”
Kane answered in a hoarse whisper, “I’m okay.”
“Can you stand?”
Kane nodded. Starks helped him to his feet. “We’ll sit on the bleachers while you recover.”
He looked away as Kane swiped tears from his face. Pretended not to hear the sniffles. Listened to the kid’s ragged breath, half from being choked, half from terror. Felt the body next to him quake—the familiar aftermath of a narrow escape. Or not escaping at all but managing to survive. Sweat streamed down Starks’s face. But it wasn’t from heat or exertion. It was because a realization punched him in the gut: He’d come close to killing the guy to protect Kane. Had wanted to kill him. Felt frustration when he faced how dangerous it would be to use the needle with so many watching.
How grotesquely satisfying it would have been to use it.
To protect Kane.
He cared too much. It wasn’t smart. Protective of his men was one thing. This was another. It defied reason.
He needed to get control of his emotions. Like Gabe kept telling him to.
What the hell is wrong with me?
CHAPTER 76
KANE, TANK, AND six other members of Starks’s crew were engaged in various activities in the gym when he joined them. Kane did that puppy thing as soon as he saw Starks. At least he won’t pee on the floor.
The kid’s response to him was flattering. And annoying. He needed to say something to Kane about this before the behavior created and fed tension in crew members. It was time to tell the kid to tone it down. To act like a man.
Starks told Tank to spot him and got into position. He was on his sixth rep when Ethan raced in, moving in fast circles around the bench. Starks sat up and said, “Stop moving. Now.”
Ethan came to an abrupt halt in front of Starks, but he was unable to stay still. “G-gotta t-t-talk to you, Starks.”
“Talk.”
He pointed to a corner. “Over there.”
Starks followed Ethan; practiced patience while the young man stammered his message.
“Until it’s okay, Starks, stay where people can see you. Don’t be alone. Ever.”
“What’s going on?”
Ethan grinned, winked, and sped off. Starks went back to the bench.
Tank asked, “What was that about?”
“My guess is it’s part of his plan for Crazy D.”
“You think he can carry it off, whatever it is?”
“I don’t know. But it seems that part of the plan is to keep me out of it so I can’t be blamed. Not that others wouldn’t hold me responsible since they know he’s with me.”
“If I was you, I’d be worried.”
“I should make him tell me what he’s going to do.”
“Maybe better you don’t know. If he’s caught, and Spencer looks to blame you, you won’t know anything. Besides, everyone knows Ethan ain’t quite right.”
“Safety in insanity.” Starks’s attention switched to the entrance. “Trevor. Looking more arrogant than usual. I think he’s going to be a problem.”
Trevor swaggered to the area where the crew members clustered.
“Glad you decided to join us,” Starks said.
“Was in the library checking stuff on the Internet. About you.”
Crew members’ conversations dwindled then ceased. Starks stood and said, “If you want to know something about me, ask.”
“Didn’t think it was the kind of thing you’d appreciate being asked.” Trevor glanced at Kane then back at Starks. “Thought you might have a thing for boys. Didn’t find anything about that anywhere. That’s a relief. Unless you paid big bucks to hide it. But, man, that wife of yours… she was getting it on. Total babe. I’d have gotten in line for that.”
Starks leaned forward. “You don’t want to go there, Trevor.”
“Which ‘there’ do you mean?” He laughed.
“You should stop. Now.”
Trevor strutted slowly up and down in front of the crew. “His wife’s a prime piece.” He faced Starks. “So what happened with her? I bet you weren’t hard enough or long enough to give her a good tickle. Is that why she field-tested so many dicks?” He dropped the grin and faced the crew. “If a man can’t control his woman, he shouldn’t have the right to tell us what to do.”
Tank bolted around the bench. “You on bad ground, boy. Better make your apology and back off.”
The thumping sound of blood rushing in Starks’s ears was amplified by the silence in the gym. Everyone’s attention was fixed on him.
“I want an answer to my question,” Trevor said, “because what I’ve seen so far is someone who’s inconsistent about how to operate. Fight, don’t fight. Recruit, don’t recruit. And, then he does something I really don’t understand: He moves Jackson out of his cell and Kane in. I know I’m not the only one wondering about that. I mean, look at the boy,” he pointed at Kane, whose face had lost color. “He’s so anxious to please Starks, I bet he’d do anything—and I mean anything—Starks asks.”
Kane said, “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Stay out of this, Kane,” Starks said. “Trevor’s issue is with me.”
Trevor laughed. “You put a big fucking cartoon dragon on your arm to look scary. Was that to make up for a tiny dick?”
Starks fisted his hands. “What’s your agenda, Trevor?”
“I don’t think I lined myself up with the right man.” He motioned toward the crew members. “None of us did.”
“The boy’s a fool,” Tank said.
Starks moved forward, until he was less than two feet from Trevor. “You’re out of the crew.”
“You’re the one that needs to be out.”
Starks’s fist landed in the middle of Trevor’s face. Blood spurted from the young man’s broken nose. He tackled Trevor, had him on the ground, and his hands around the inmate’s throat.
Tank wrapped his arms around Starks and pulled him off. “He ain’t worth it, man.”
“Let me go. I’m not done with him.”
“He’s nothing but shit on your shoe. Scrape him off.” Tank let go of Starks and grabbed Trevor by the front of his shirt. “I’ve seen stupid before, but not like you. Get outta here. You see us walking, you go the other way. You talk about our business, and those’ll be the last words ever leave your smart-ass mouth.” He released Trevor, who sauntered to the door, where he turned and gave Starks the finger.
Starks looked at his men then at the other inmates, who stared back for a few seconds then turned away. He balled his trembling, bloodied hands into fists. The dragon on his arm now seemed gauche, a source of humiliation.
What inmates had heard would spread around his area of the prison. To inmates. To guards. No way to stop it. Everything he’d done recently might now be translated as nothing more than posturing. Having no substance. That without a crew to back him up, he was nothing—just a man with a lot of mo
ney who bought people.
He found himself entrenched in a miasma where truths and lies converge, where the strands of each entangle and become impossible to follow, much less separate. He was disintegrating, like New England fog that burned off in sunlight to reveal what was in the shadows.
The damage, which took only minutes to achieve, was done. It was severe. Possibly irreparable. Unless he killed Trevor. Any other gang leader would have done the job then and there. Retaliation would be expected of him. Despite the fact that he’d killed before, whether by his hand or because he’d arranged it, if he didn’t take care of this, there would be no reputation to recover. He’d be a victim, yet again. But the idea of ending the life of some arrogant, loud-mouthed young prick didn’t feel right either.
Starks heard someone behind him and turned. Kane watched him through eyes filmed with tears barely held back, his expression one of misery, which Starks found perplexing.
If he killed Trevor, what would Kane think?
Why should he even care?
Bile, and a scream he had to suppress, surged upward.
CHAPTER 77
TANK SPOKE IN a voice that carried. “That fool’s looking to get himself killed. Any leader takes him in is gonna do it just to find out what Starks has going on. Then he’s gonna end him. Damn fool can’t be trusted. Man, y’all just got an education about what not to do. Hope y’all learn from it.”
Starks glanced at the faces of his men and other inmates in the area. Tank’s words seemed to be sinking in. He prayed they took root.
Felipe entered the gym. His steps slowed as he looked around. He spotted Starks and approached him. “Tension’s thick. What’s going on?”
“I just cancelled someone’s membership in my crew. He challenged me.”
“The guy with blood all over him.”
Starks nodded. “That’s the one.”
“He’s lucky he’s still alive to bleed. Or is that temporary?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” Starks replied. “Change of subject: I started working with weights again. Didn’t bother my wrist. No reason we can’t resume our lessons.”
