TAKING HIS SEED: The Jagged Rebels MC

by Zoey Parker

  But he was still a goddamn human being, and if he was going to die, he'd die as a man instead of a dog.

  Using the last of his strength, Kurt launched himself at Gable with a snarl. Gable stumbled backward, his eyes comically wide—he clearly hadn't expected this response, and he fumbled with his baton, trying to yank it from his belt. Kurt's fingers closed over it first, wrenching it out and raising it over his head as Gable fell backward into the hall.

  Kurt was on top of Gable in seconds, clawing at his eyes with one hand as he raised the baton with the other. Gable cringed, terrified, and raised his arms to protect his face. He was too slow—Kurt's nails hadn't been cut or filed in almost a week, and they were sharp enough to leave a series of deep gouges under Gable's left eye.

  The first time Kurt brought the baton down, it connected with Gable's forearm. Kurt hoped it would snap a bone or two, but Gable's bulging muscles cushioned the blow. He was still trying to get up, but Kurt straddled his wide chest, pinning him to the floor.

  Gable yelled for the guard in charge of Ad-Seg. “Leroy! Help! Bellows's gotten out of his cell!”

  Kurt swung the baton again, and this time, it hit Gable squarely between the eyes with a thwack. Gable went cross-eyed for a moment, let out a groan, and fell back to the floor, unconscious.

  The alarms started to honk, and above them, Kurt heard a strange roaring sound, like what he used to hear when he'd listen to the inside of a sea shell as a child. It took him a few seconds to realize it was the voices of the other inmates in Ad-Seg, howling and cheering through the slots in their doors.

  “Take 'im down, Bellows!”

  “Yeah, that's right! Fuck him up! Fuck him up! Fuck—”

  “You're the fuckin' man, Bellows!”

  “Right between the eyes! Put his lights out for good, the cocksucker!”

  A door at one end of the corridor slid open and a squad of corrections officers marched in wearing riot gear. They rushed over to Kurt, pulling him off of Gable and prying the baton from his hand. Kurt felt a series of kicks and punches to his torso, but the pain barely registered, dulled by a strange euphoria.

  Gable had come down to gloat and treat Kurt like some kind of trained pet. In response, Kurt had scarred his face and probably given him a concussion.

  Good. Fuck him.

  Because Keith had been right. These people could take everything away from Kurt, but they couldn't rob him of his soul. No one could snatch that away from him. He could decide to give it freely, but instead, he'd chosen to stand his ground.

  The guards dragged Kurt back to his cell, threw him down on the flimsy plastic mattress, and slammed the metal door. From the jagged agony in his side, he could tell that his injured ribs had been re-broken.

  But he didn't care.

  He was too busy laughing triumphantly, until tears spilled down his cheeks.

  Chapter 30

  Sarah

  The day after Gable was attacked by Kurt was Sarah's day off.

  Sarah had celebrated when she'd heard what happened down in the hole. She knew Gable had gone down there to bully Kurt into playing by the rules, and when she heard about Gable's injuries from the other guards, it took all her self-control not to throw her head back and laugh. She was just sorry to hear that Kurt hadn't been able to give Gable a solid kick to the balls while he was at it.

  She knew the effect that Ad-Seg could have on prisoners—both mentally and physically—and she'd been scared for Kurt, knowing that the claustrophobia of incarceration was already difficult for him. But when she found out that he'd still had enough strength to throw himself at Gable and snatch his baton, she was relieved.

  Just hang on a little while longer, Kurt, she thought to herself. There's still a chance for us to get out of this together.

  When she got home, she realized that she still hadn't bought a pregnancy test. The news about Kurt and Gable had distracted her again. It was probably for the best, though. Given what she'd have to do the next day, it would be better for her not to have the results hanging over her in case they turned out positive. She'd need all her focus if this was going to work, and then she could pick up the test afterward and deal with the results then.

  She didn't sleep well that night due to nervousness, and when she woke up the next morning, she threw up again. She tried to tell herself that it didn't mean anything—that it was just anxiety, that anyone would throw up repeatedly if they found themselves in her position.

  Those thoughts weren't much comfort to her. For the hundredth time, she wondered what would happen if the test came back positive, and for the hundredth time, she tried to shove those thoughts away.

  Sarah threw on some casual clothes, got into her car, and drove to the nearest rental car company. Gable would recognize her vehicle if he saw it, and if this plan was going to have a snowball's chance in hell, she knew she'd need to be careful and cover her tracks. She rented a plain-looking white sedan for the afternoon and drove to Saint Felipe de Jesus High School.

  Then she parked across from the school, got the camera on her phone ready, and waited for the final bell to ring.

  When it did, the front doors of the building were flung open and a sea of teenagers in school uniforms flooded out, screaming and laughing and shoving and jeering. Sarah looked at them carefully, singling out a long-legged girl of Mexican descent whose hair was tied back in a ponytail. She waved goodbye to a couple of her friends and then crossed the street, adjusting her pink backpack.

  She matched the description Keith had given Sarah, but still, she had to be sure. She peered through her camera, zooming in on the name embroidered on the front of the girl's shirt: Selena Gomez.

  Sarah nodded. So far, so good.

  Selena peered around quickly to make sure no one was watching her. Then she walked over to a blue two-door convertible, getting in on the passenger's side.

  Gable was waiting behind the wheel. When Selena got in, Gable leaned over, putting an arm around her and giving her a long kiss on the lips.

  Sarah started to snap pictures.

  Selena gently touched the bandages on Gable's cheek and forehead, looking concerned. Sarah couldn't hear their words, but she saw Gable making some kind of “Aw shucks, it's not so bad” gesture before he kissed Selena again. His arms shifted, and it was hard to tell, but it looked like he was sliding one hand between her legs.

  Right across from the school? Sarah thought smugly, continuing to take photos. You brazen son of a bitch, Gable.

  It almost seemed like Gable must have heard Sarah's thoughts, because he withdrew his hand and turned his car on. Sarah quickly took a few final shots which included Gable's license plate before he drove off.

  So there it was.

  Sarah had hard evidence that Gable was having a relationship with Roberto Torres's 18-year-old cousin.

  If word of this reached the prison, it would be a race to see who would eat him alive first—the Sinners for having sex with their leader's barely legal relative, or the Brothers for betraying their whole racist ideology by fucking a Mexican girl. This info was so juicy, Sarah could hardly believe it was true. She had to check and re-check the pictures, just to make sure.

  But now what?

  Sure, she could try to corner Gable alone during her next shift and lord it over him, warning him to stay off her case and stop screwing with Kurt. That didn't seem smart, though. It would just put Gable between a rock and a hard place, since the Brothers would still expect him to follow their orders. If Gable was trapped like that, there was no telling what kind of desperate moves he could make. Worse, if he knew she had this evidence against him, that might give him enough time to think of how he could slime his way out of it. Sarah would be back to square one—and it would be even worse, since now she'd have Gable as a real enemy.

  She could go to the Brothers or the Sinners with the info, but again, what then? In the best-case scenario, they'd have Gable killed. Then he'd be replaced by some other guard who was loyal to the Brot
hers, and their abuse of her and Kurt would continue. Again, she'd be back where she started.

  No, this kind of thing had to be used carefully, with surgical precision. It was like having a gun with a single bullet in it—a powerful weapon, sure, but she had to make her one shot count.

  Maybe Kurt could help her come up with the best way to use it. Now that she had compromising information about Officer Leroy in Ad-Seg as well, she'd be able to visit with him.

  But first things first.

  Sarah dropped off the rental car, then went to a drugstore on the way home and bought a pregnancy test. The clerk, a middle-aged woman with frizzy gray hair and thick glasses, studiously kept her eyes down as she rang up the purchase. Even so, Sarah thought she saw the clerk shake her head almost imperceptibly.

  When Sarah got home, she took the test, then sat on the lid of the toilet and waited for the results. Finally, two lines appeared on the strip.

  That was it, then. She was pregnant. It wasn't what she'd been hoping for, but even so, it felt better knowing for sure. It didn't even feel like much of a shock, and she realized that on some level, she'd been steeling herself for this ever since she first noticed the blood on her sheets.

  She went to the bedroom, stretched out on top of the blanket, and stared at the ceiling.

  How would Kurt react?

  The truth was, she couldn't even begin to guess. His entire life had already been turned upside down since he'd gone to River Oak. Contemplating a two-year sentence was one thing—lots of short-time prisoners were released with babies waiting for them at home, either from sex before they'd been sent away or during a conjugal visit. But now that he was facing the possibility of a life sentence, what would the thought of having a child on the outside do to him?

  And despite what they'd shared in the infirmary, how could she even know for sure that he would want her to have his baby? Their whole relationship had been chaos and uncertainty from the beginning. He was clearly still mourning his wife and child. How could Sarah possibly hope to fill that void for him? What if he rejected her for trying?

  Sarah didn't have any answers to these questions, but she knew one thing: She was going to keep this baby. She couldn't bring herself to abort it, or give it away for adoption. It was a part of Kurt, and she wanted it in her life, if only because it was probably the closest thing she'd have to being with him.

  She hoped Kurt would understand that, even if he didn't want any part of it. She hoped he wouldn't be upset with her for her decision.

  Eventually, the sun set and Sarah's eyelids grew heavy. She fell into a shallow and restless sleep, dreaming of how things might go when she saw Kurt again tomorrow. None of the potential outcomes seemed good.

  Chapter 31

  Sarah

  The next day, Sarah woke up early to get a take-out bag of breakfast from a diner down the street. Then she went to River Oak a couple of hours before her shift was due to start. She wore her uniform to avoid attracting attention, and whenever someone noticed her and asked what she was doing there so early, she mumbled something about needing the overtime and scuttled away quickly, trying to keep the bag of food behind her back.

  She carried the bag to the overseer's office in Ad-Seg, where Officer Leroy sat in front of an array of security monitors with his feet up on the desk, reading an old, tattered issue of Penthouse. Leroy was a morbidly obese man in his late forties, with short, spiky red hair that was starting to turn gray. The monitors displayed the live feeds from the cameras in the corridor, showing that the hall was empty and the cell doors were shut.

  When Leroy saw Sarah, he tossed the magazine aside, licking his chops lasciviously. Sarah wasn't sure whether he was ogling her or the food she was holding.

  “Officer Martin! What brings you down to the bowels of River Oak?”

  Sarah smiled warmly. “Well, I've been meaning to visit you down here ever since I started this job. Ad-Seg is my favorite part of the prison. There's just so much history down here. It must be fascinating!”

  “It sure is, toots. We've had lots of famous bad guys come and go over the years. Come have a seat, and I'll tell you about some of them.” He chortled, putting his feet on the floor and patting his knee invitingly.

  “Actually, there's one in particular I'd really like to talk about. The rich artist who killed his wife and her lover—James Beldin.”

  Leroy fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, loosening his tie. “Why, uh...I mean, what do you want to know about him?”

  “Oh, it's not so much what I want to know as what I know already. For instance, I happen to know that while Beldin was staying down here before he was transferred to death row, you smuggled in some art supplies for him—”

  “Now wait a goddamn minute—”

  “—and that you currently own the last thing he ever painted, so you can anonymously sell it for upwards of a million dollars when you retire in a couple years.”

  Leroy's face was turning red. “That's a fucking lie.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But I'm willing to bet that if word got out among the convicts, at least one of them would have friends or family members on the outside who'd be willing to break into your house and grab it while you're here on duty.”

  “Oh yeah, you half-bright cunt? What makes you think I haven't got it stashed someplace else?”

  “Simple. You have no friends, your family fucking hates you, and the painting's too big for a safe deposit box. Stop screwing around, Leroy.”

  Leroy's teeth were clenched so tightly that the muscles in his jaw were twitching. Finally, he said, “Fine. So what do you want from me?”

  “Nothing too complicated. Whenever Gable and his goons want to come in here without showing up on the security tapes, you arrange it. I want you to do the same for me.”

  “What, now?” he whined plaintively.

  “Yes, right now.”

  Leroy sighed, then dragged the computer keyboard closer to him and started typing. A few seconds later, the screens blinked, then continued showing the empty hallway.

  “Okay, I've tricked the cameras so they'll show a loop of the empty corridor while continuing to stamp it with the current date and time. I'm assuming you want Bellows's cell open?”

  Jesus, Sarah thought. It didn't take long for everyone to hear about that. But hopefully, in just a few short days, it won't matter how many people know about it. We'll be long gone.

  “That's right,” she replied curtly.

  Leroy nodded and hit a button, unlocking Kurt's cell. “Okay. You have five minutes.”

  “If you want to hang onto your little retirement plan, then I have all the fucking time I want, fat man.”

  And with that, Sarah opened the door to the corridor and walked over to the door of Kurt's cell. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage like a fist, and she could hear her own blood rushing in her ears.

  This was it. The moment of truth.

  Chapter 32

  Kurt

  When Kurt heard the lock on the door click open, his entire body tensed automatically, sending fresh waves of pain through his ribs. He fully expected to see a group of guards led by Gable, or maybe Hawkeye and some of the bigger members of the Brothers. Either way, he'd be severely outnumbered, and in his weakened condition, he probably wouldn't last long before they cut his wrists or strung him up so he'd look like just another suicide in the hole.

  Well, fine. Let them come. He'd fight them to his last breath, and at least it would all be over soon.

  As the door opened, Kurt thought his mind must be playing tricks on him again. Sarah was standing there, framed in the pale light from the corridor like some kind of angel. She was carrying a brown paper bag, and the smells coming from it made his stomach do backflips.

  “Is it really you?” he croaked through parched lips.

  “It's me,” Sarah answered, crouching down next to him and opening the bag. She withdrew a styrofoam clamshell and opened it, revealing a greasy pile
of fried eggs and sausage patties. Then she handed it to him, along with a plastic fork. “Here, eat up. I know how they 'feed' the inmates down here.”

  Kurt desperately wanted to hold Sarah and kiss her, but the needs of his body rudely jostled these impulses out of the way. He grabbed the fork and dug into the food, wolfing it down.

  “Try to go slow,” she said softly. “You'll make yourself sick.”

  “How did you get in here?” Kurt asked between bites. “If Gable finds out—”

  “He won't. I took care of it. Besides, I've got something on Gable. Maybe even something big enough to help us get out of here.”

  Kurt finished the food, wiping his mouth on his forearm and looking at her. First Sarah shows up with food, then she talks about a plan for both of them to leave River Oak?