by Elle Thorpe
It was only now that Heath looked at me. I gave a tiny shake of my head, trying to tell him that it wasn’t worth going head-to-head with Rowe over. I was fine. Rowe didn’t scare me. And though he’d held my wrist tightly, he hadn’t been trying to hurt me. A flicker of guilt rose at the fact I’d actually liked his hands on me.
Heath got my message. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”
I could see exactly how much it hurt him to say that.
Rowe’s gaze slid slowly from Heath to me. “Whatever you two are playing at, it won’t last. I’ll see to that. I know there’s something going on. One wrong move and you’re gone.” He turned to Heath. “And you’ll be put in solitary. Got it?”
Heath didn’t answer. He just stared Rowe down, not giving him an inch.
Something passed between them, something hard, hot, and full of alpha male energy that was so tangible it practically crackled.
Heath’s fingers clenched into fists at his sides, and I instinctively knew that if these two men had met each other outside this environment—at a bar or on a football field—they would have been throwing punches within minutes.
Or slamming each other up against the wall in a kiss that would have seared my eyeballs to watch.
That was the feeling that sucked the air from the room right now. A pure intenseness that could have gone either way.
But here in prison, with Rowe as guard and Heath as prisoner, there was only one way for that energy to flow.
It swelled and peaked and overflowed into a storm of hate.
A trickle of panic rolled down my spine. Heath didn’t need to be making enemies in here. And neither did I. I knew I couldn’t touch Heath, though my fingers burned with the need to. So instead, it was Rowe’s wrist I reached for. “Come on. I’m late for my first day, and you already made it pretty clear I can’t go anywhere in this prison without you. Let’s go.”
Rowe stared down at my fingers around his wrist, and then back up at me before pulling from my grasp. He pushed open the door, waiting for me to go ahead of him. “Get on with it then.”
I couldn’t help it. I glanced over my shoulder once more at Heath, but his expression had completely shut down. He spun on his heel and disappeared down the corridor.
14
Heath
I stalked away down the hall, shock at seeing Mae here, of all places, coursing through my body. Every step of distance I put between us just felt wrong and unnatural. Leaving her behind, alone with that asshole guard, went against every fiber of my being. I couldn’t stop seeing his fingers wrapped around her slim wrist.
I hated that he could touch her and I couldn’t.
I hated that she could touch him but not me.
“Got a bee in your bloomers?”
I stopped in the doorway of the recreation room and looked over to see who had called out to me. DeWitt. The same big man who had been one of my cellmates on intake. He and I, along with the young kid, Vincent, had all been moved to the General Population area on a trial basis. If we were good, we’d get to stay there, where prisoners could mix more freely, at least at certain times. If we got ourselves into trouble, we’d be sent to the cells while we awaited our trials.
But while Vincent had been placed in a separate row, I now had the unfortunate displeasure of being DeWitt’s neighbor. The two of us had been assigned side-by-side cubicles, each containing nothing more than a bed with a lumpy mattress and a small writing desk with a hard plastic chair.
Tonight, he sat at a circular table in the middle of the common area, surrounded by three other men, identical tattoos etched into the skin of their necks, marking them as members of the Saint View Sinners. Officially a motorcycle club, but in reality, they were a whole lot more than that, with connections rumored to run deep and right across the country.
That was what DeWitt had been talking about when he’d questioned if I knew who he was. I hadn’t noticed his tattoo at the time, but even If I had, it wouldn’t have mattered to me.
I had nothing to lose.
He’d regarded me cautiously ever since. Giving me a wide berth, just the way I liked it. Only now, he motioned me over.
I went because it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. He pulled an empty chair up beside him and patted it. “Sit. Play a round with us.”
“Pass.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t insist. “Fine. Keep pacing the hallway like a caged rat.” He dealt a fresh round of cards to his friends like I wasn’t standing there watching them. A few guys across the other side of the room laughed at an Everybody Loves Raymond rerun on a tiny TV mounted on the wall.
“You seem to know everything that goes on in this place.”
De Witt paused in his dealing and glanced up at me. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”
I hated the idea of asking him for anything. But I desperately needed to know why Mae was here. “What’s going on in the room down by the bathrooms? That Officer Pritchard is down there with a woman.”
DeWitt shrugged. “One of the guards from the women’s prison? Who gives a shit?” He went back to his game.
“Not a guard. Civilian. She doesn’t have anything to do with the prison system.”
That got his attention. His grin turned mocking, and he started a little dance on his seat, rocking his shoulders, his hips thrusting like the complete perv he was. “A civilian, you say? Pritchard got himself a prison groupie? Lucky fucking prick. Those bitches must be willing to sit on anyone’s dick.”
One of DeWitt’s friends sniggered. “You fucking blind? He’s so fucking attractive, I’d sit on his dick.”
They all burst into laughter. But it only grated on my nerves.
“She’s not fucking him.” I was sure of that. The thought of Mae being a prison groupie was completely absurd. She had to be here because I’d refused to take her phone calls or to see her when she tried to visit me. Shit. That was on me. I should have just taken the call and let her yell at me. Now she was putting herself in danger to do it, and that was the last thing I wanted. I had no idea how she’d gotten past the security walls. She was completely insane. This was no place for her, or any woman. The men here weren’t just criminals. They were dangerous. A woman here, especially one as beautiful as Mae, was a recipe for disaster.
“Oh, wait.” DeWitt swiveled in his seat, turning to look at me. “They in the schoolroom? The one at the end of the corridor? Damn. If they’ve hired a woman, maybe I’m suddenly in need of some education.”
I put the pieces together and groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. My shoes squeaked on the floor as I paced back to the room Mae had disappeared into, and I paused on the outside, listening. Her voice filtered through the door, muffled, but still a balm to the aching in my chest.
I plastered myself to the wall and let the stifled sounds of her lesson sink into me like sunbeams on a cloudless day. She worked here now? How the hell had she swung that? Every word she uttered had me wanting to bust down the damn door and kneel at her feet to beg for a chance to explain myself. It was one thing to refuse her visits when I couldn’t see or hear her. When her name was just a word on the lips of a guard. But now, knowing she was so close, holding myself back was an exercise in torture. I wanted in that room like I wanted my next breath.
But after our little showdown earlier, Pritchard would throw me out the second I tried. There had to be another way.
DeWitt came up behind me in the corridor, his voice interrupting my frantic thoughts. “She’s your prison groupie, isn’t she? The one you’ve been moping over ever since you got here.”
“Don’t fucking call her that.”
“I know a way you can talk to her. Away from Pritchard. Because he ain’t gonna give you an inch.”
I already knew that. But I also knew that anything from DeWitt didn’t come free. “I’m listening.”
“You’ll owe me.”
I nodded, accepting the debt. Mae was worth it. Getting her out of here and away f
rom these pieces of scum would be worth it.
“There’s a women’s bathroom, just down the hall. That’s the only chance you’ve got of talking to her without Pritchard up in your grill. It’s keypad operated, can’t get in there without the code. Not even a swipe key will help you.”
“Not much good to me then, is it?”
DeWitt’s grin widened. He folded his arms across his wide chest, his yellowing teeth making me nauseous. “Lucky I’ve got a soft spot for you, pretty boy. I know everything that happens in here. Including the code.”
I was immediately suspicious. “How?”
He chuckled darkly. “You aren’t the only one who wants some alone time in this place, you feel me?” He put one hand out at hip height and splayed open his fingers as if they were resting on the back of another inmate’s head. And then pumped his hips as if he were thrusting into their mouth.
Bile rose in my throat. “If that’s how you think I’m going to repay you, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Nah, pretty boy. As much as I’d like your lips wrapped around my dick, I think you’re saving that for someone else.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I saw the way you and Pritchard were eyeing each other earlier. You looked ready to rip each other’s clothes off.”
I shook my head sharply. “Don’t mistake hate for lust.”
DeWitt strutted like the cat who’d swallowed the canary. “Fine. If you say so. It’s beside the point anyway. Now, about that debt. You’ll owe me. And I’ll claim it when I’m ready. Deal?”
I ground my teeth together, but Mae’s voice still floated through the closed door, and I knew I couldn’t just let it go. It was at least a half an hour drive from Saint View Prison back to her place. And if she was teaching here? She’d probably been here for a while. There was a good chance she would detour past the bathroom before she left. I had to at least try.
“Fine. Deal.”
“Pin code is seven-nine-eight-three-eight-five. Probably how many hearts Pritchard has broken on the outside, don’t you think?”
I didn’t care. I was already striding for the bathroom.
15
Mae
Two students.
It wasn’t much of a start, but it was something. And the upside of having such a tiny class? The two men both actually wanted to be there. They’d been polite and respectful learners for the entire time.
I bent over Vincent’s desk and studied the simple math problems I’d first demonstrated, then left for him to solve solo. I put my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, look at that. You did it. Well done.”
The young man didn’t glance up at me, but he had his shoulder-length black hair scraped back into a messy ponytail, so I saw the tiny flicker of a muscle in his cheek that made me think he might have wanted to smile.
That was what my job was all about. Watching it click for a student was exactly why I loved it.
Rowe cleared his throat, an obnoxious sound that he’d been making all night.
“What now?” I sighed in frustration at his umpteenth interruption.
He jerked his head in an overexaggerated fashion to stare at my hand on Vincent’s shoulder.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I removed my hand and waved it around in Rowe’s face so he could see that I’d followed orders.
His expression didn’t change. “Class is over. Go back to your cells.”
The two men both stood immediately, their chairs scraping over the floor.
“Hey, hey, wait a minute. Class isn’t over until I say it is.”
But the two men were already filing past me for the door.
“Sorry, Miss,” Vincent said beneath his breath as he passed. “I don’t want to be disrespectful, but we gotta do as he says.”
I softened and nodded at the younger man. “Of course. Go on. Thank you for your hard work tonight. I’ll see you next class.”
The man nodded and scurried away.
With the door closed behind my students, I glanced over at Rowe sitting behind a desk in the back, face screwed up like he’d just been given a lobotomy.
“Well, that was boring.”
“So’s your face, but I didn’t comment on it,” I snapped, still annoyed at his interruptions and for dismissing my class five minutes before it was supposed to end.
Rowe looked as if he was biting back laughter. “So, tell me. Do you feel some sense of purpose? Like you’ve done your bit to help humanity now that you’ve taught exactly two inmates what a fraction is?”
“Oh, so you were listening? I dumbed it down a little, just for you.” I gave him a sickly sweet smile.
He pushed up out of his chair, straightening the desk. “Like anybody actually has a need for fractions around here anyway.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want to learn them.”
He headed for the door, and I scrambled to pick up the folder of paperwork I’d brought in. I followed him over, surprised when he actually held the door open for me without a smart-ass comment.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything, just headed back down the corridor, toward the main reception area. We passed small signs marking two rooms to the left as male and female staff bathrooms. At the sight, my bladder reminded me that I’d been here for hours. I stopped. “Wait. Can I use the restroom, please?”
Rowe sighed like it was an extreme imposition but mumbled a string of numbers, giving me the code for the locked bathroom. “It’s how many times I dozed off during your class.”
I flipped him the bird and pushed open the door while he muttered about not taking too long because he had better things to do than babysit me any longer.
“Doubtful. You’re not that important,” I called, walking backward, letting my ample ass bump open the door. The interior darkened as the door closed, and I fumbled for the light switch, while simultaneously engaging the lock, sliding a latch from green to red to show the facility was in use. I didn’t really think that Rowe would let anyone try to enter while I was in here, but I wasn’t going to risk it.
A big body pressed against my back, a hand covering my mouth.
I was too shocked to try to scream. Panic forced the air to disintegrate from my lungs, keeping me silent. But my brain flashed bright-red warnings behind my eyes. Tori had been right. My very first night, and I was about to be attacked in the bathroom. I raised my fist to bang on the door and get Rowe’s attention.
“Stop. It’s me.”
My arm fell limply to my side as I recognized the voice. I slumped back against Heath’s chest, relief-filled tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. His arm wrapped around my middle, holding me tight against his chest, while my knees attempted to give out.
“Nod if you’re okay and not going to scream.”
I did as asked, trying to get my rapidly beating heart under control. It thumped for two reasons.
Leftover adrenaline from thinking I was about to be attacked.
And pure longing at Heath being this close.
He slowly peeled his fingers from my mouth, but he didn’t let me go.
I turned, taking a step back so I could gaze up at his face. “You smell different.”
He frowned. “Prison soap. It’s not exactly the expensive stuff.”
It didn’t matter to me. He still smelled good. He still smelled like safety and comfort, and now that I was out of his arms, I just wanted back in them.
His gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?”
“You wouldn’t see me.”
“Because I didn’t want you to see me here. Not like this.” He sighed in frustration, then changed tactics, a hint of curiosity creeping into his voice. “Why would you even want to talk to me?”
“Because I don’t believe you did it. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Guess they didn’t tell you I confessed.”
I wasn’t going to be swayed by
that. “They did.”
“And yet, you’re here.”
I eyed him critically. This wasn’t the Heath I knew. He had defenses up, but I suspected they weren’t to keep him safe. He’d never been one to care more about himself than others. This was just another attempt to push me away. To get me to leave this thing alone. But I couldn’t. I had no idea why he’d confessed to the cops. Why he seemed intent on going down for something he didn’t do. But I wasn’t giving up that easily. “Say it then. Say it to my face.”
Heath’s expression was stony. Unreadable. “What?”
I stared him dead in the eye. “I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you did it. Tell me you killed my sister.”
It was only in that moment that it occurred to me that if he said yes, he’d murdered Jayela in cold blood, I was in a very dangerous position. I was locked in a bathroom, and nobody knew he was here with me.
He didn’t say anything.
I pushed at his chest. “Tell me you did it.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
Relief flooded my system. I was sure for a moment that I would lose my legs out from underneath me again. A sob burst forth, and I clutched at the fabric of his jumpsuit, staring up at him, and words vomited from my mouth. “Then why? Why did you say you did? I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the things I said to you that morning. I was in shock. I had no idea what was going on. I should have never said anything to them. This is all my fault. I told the police… But then I tried to tell them it wasn’t you. I knew it wasn’t. Something in my gut just said that it couldn’t be.”
A tear dripped down my face, and he pulled me tighter against his chest. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. They beat the shit out of me. They forced that confession into my mouth and gave me no choice but to say it. He would have killed me if I hadn’t.”
I pulled back and stared at him in horror. I hadn’t noticed them in the dim light of the corridor earlier, but in the brighter fluorescent light of the bathroom, there were the tinges of old bruises, now nearly healed around his jaw and eyes. I traced them with my fingertips, sick that my words might have caused his pain. “What can I do?”
