by Elle Thorpe
His gaze raked over my face as if he were drinking it in, committing it to memory. “I’m fucked. All the evidence points to me, even if that video of my confession doesn’t stand up at trial. My public defender is useless. You know what he told me? He told me the best I could hope for was to not get the death penalty.”
I couldn’t breathe. “No.”
He didn’t say anything. His silence was the worst confirmation of all.
My fingers trembled. “There’s got to be something we can do. I can’t just leave you here.”
His arms tightened around me, and he pressed his lips to the top of my head, inhaling. “Do you truly believe me?”
“Yes!”
He cupped my face and tilted it to look up at him. Whatever he saw there in my expression must have convinced him.
He nodded. “If you really want to help, find me a good lawyer. A really good one, Mae. Because I need a miracle.”
A thumping on the door broke us apart, and I spun around, staring at the door with wide eyes.
“Did you fall in? Do you need a rope?” Rowe’s annoyed tone filtered through.
“Fuck, I hate that guy,” Heath muttered.
“Me, too.”
“You’ve gotta go before he gets suspicious.”
I didn’t want to. I dug my fingers into Heath’s biceps, not wanting to leave him behind. “Come to my class. I’m here three times a week, and at the women’s prison the other two. I need to be able to see you.”
There was more banging from the other side of the door.
“No. Don’t come back. It’s not safe.”
“I don’t care. I need to see you. I’m going to get you out. I’ll get you the lawyer. The best one money can buy.”
He shook his head like he couldn’t believe that. He kissed my forehead, his soft lips against my skin, branding me. I wanted to push up onto my toes and kiss him properly. But he spoke before I could.
“Seriously, Mae. It’s not safe. Don’t come back.” He reached across me and unlocked the door, yanking it open and giving me a little shove before I could respond.
I stumbled out into the corridor, an intense loneliness instantly pressing down on me.
“I’ll bring matches next time, shall I? Seriously. Probably a good thing there’s no other women employees in this place.” Rowe smirked at me.
I didn’t even have a witty comeback. All I could think about was getting him as far away from the bathroom as possible so Heath could leave it. I hurried toward the reception area, leaving Rowe to follow me.
16
Rowe
Mae power-walked to the main exit, like she was trying out for the Olympic Games. At the security doors, she fumbled with her pass, tapping it against the black reader attached to the wall. It didn’t do anything except frustrate her. She whirled on me, irritation etched into the frown between her eyes.
I strolled casually after, not caring I was making her wait. I moved in close behind her, trying not to notice the delicate scent of her perfume. Shit. How long had it been since I was close enough to a woman to smell her scent?
Way too long.
No point dwelling on that, though.
“You have to put the exit code in first, and then tap your security pass.” I leaned around her to punch in the code, but my fingers froze over the keypad.
“What? Don’t tell me you forgot it.”
“Of course I didn’t forget it,” I snapped. Fact was, tendrils of Mae’s long blonde hair ghosted across my cheek, the delicate touch taking me by surprise. That, combined with how good she smelled? I was pretty sure my brain had short-circuited temporarily.
I got the door open for her and escorted her into the cool night air.
“Um, thanks for tonight, I guess?” She paused. We’d picked up her stupidly sized purse and other belongings from her security locker, and now she held them to her chest like they might keep her warm.
I resisted the urge to take off my jacket and offer it to her. “Why thank me? This isn’t a date. I did my job. I sat through your boring lecture, I didn’t fall asleep, I escorted you from the premises without anyone shanking you.” Just like the warden had told me to. In hindsight, I should have realized the new employee was a woman. He’d never asked me to escort any other new employee to the door.
I could almost hear the grinding of her teeth as she bit back a retort. “Well, thank you anyway. I’ll see you next shift. I’d attempt to make my class more interesting for you, but I suspect your favorite pastime is playing video games in your parents’ basement. Right? I can’t really cater for that level of intelligence in anyone over eighteen.”
It was an effort not to laugh. I had to admit, I kind of liked her spunk. Her verbal sparring skills were on point. And it wasn’t often somebody challenged me in that department. But that didn’t mean that this—her working at the prison—would work out. It wouldn’t. I already knew exactly how this would end, and it wasn’t well. Better that she just leave now before any real damage was done.
Or before anyone got hurt. Because that was the real concern here.
“That is if you even come back,” I mumbled under my breath.
Apparently, I didn’t mumble quiet enough.
“Oh, I’ll be back. See you tomorrow.”
I stifled a groan of irritation and turned away as she strode across the darkened parking lot. At the small window, I watched her get inside an old BMW, put her bag on the passenger seat, check her hair or makeup in the rearview mirror, and then finally get the keys in the ignition. I cracked my knuckles when there was no sign that she’d locked the car around her. “For fuck’s sake,” I mumbled while she drove out of the security gates. Her taillights disappeared into the darkness.
“Who was that?”
I spun around at the question, instantly recognizing the other guard. “New schoolteacher,” I told Colt. “Can you believe that? Warden is out of his mind hiring her.”
“Why? She not qualified? Or you just being a sexist prick?”
I was a prick, but I wasn’t sexist. Technically she wasn’t qualified. But the board had been on the warden’s back for months about supplying a teacher for the men. We had a state standards inspection coming up, and we’d be marked down for not having all the appropriate programs in place. He would have taken anybody. But I had a good reason for not wanting Mae here. Colt hadn’t worked in the system long enough to know what could happen. What had happened in the past. But I knew all too well.
Because I’d paid the ultimate price. And so had she.
Never again.
“Both.” It was easier to let him think I was pig, rather than explaining any further. I liked Colt and I wasn’t in the mood to pile my burden on to him.
He didn’t push it either; instead, he yawned, covering his mouth with his arm. “Sorry. Tired.”
He looked it. Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath his eyes, and he yawned again as if to prove the point.
“Baby kept you up again?”
Despite how tired he appeared, his face lit up at the mention of his daughter. “Yeah. Lacey thinks its colic. But I don’t know. All four of us were up all night, trying to get Luna comfortable enough to sleep.”
“Why don’t you just take turns? That’s gotta be the upside to this weirdo relationship you’re in.” Colt was almost a decade younger than me, but he seemed older than his years, and we’d struck up a friendship in the last few months since he’d started working here. He had an odd relationship at home, though. He was totally obsessed with his woman but shared her with his two best friends from high school. Like, shared her. In all ways. And none of them seem to mind or get jealous. Six months after I first met him, I was still trying to understand exactly how that worked. But the four of them had a baby together and were battling through their first year of college as well. And somehow, even with all that on his plate, I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone look as happy. I almost envied him. Except I’d been that happy once, too. And I knew how bad
ly it hurt when it all went away.
“I know. We’re ridiculous. But, Luna, man… If she is upset, we’re all upset. There is no sleeping when she’s screaming down the house in agony.” He pulled out his phone from the pocket of his work shirt. “Seriously. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but wait until you’re a parent. You start doing things that once seemed crazy, just because you can’t get enough of that kid’s little face. You have to see this photo that I took of her yesterday. She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I played the diligent friend and watched over Colt’s shoulder as he scrolled through what had to be five hundred photos of a chubby-cheeked baby with the same dark eyes and dark hair he had.
“Anyway,” Colt said, finally putting his phone away. “What’s happening in this place tonight? Anything I need to know about? I only just got on, and you’re the first person I’ve seen.”
He followed me toward the security doors, and I scanned the two of us in.
“You missed the big excitement. Should just be the same old, same old now. But there is something I want to do. Come with me?”
“Sure. Where are we going? And why are you frowning like that? You look like you ate something sour.”
We stomped through the halls, heavy boots on the solid floors, our similar heights making us evenly paced. “I need to check something.”
Some of the prisoners moved about freely, on their way back to their bunks from the recreation room, which would be closed for the night in the next ten minutes when curfew was called. Colt eyeballed two prisoners acting shifty, but I didn’t slow my pace to bother investigating whatever they were up to.
In the General Population housing area, a sea of small cubicles with the men’s beds and personal belongings spread out in front of me. But there was only one I was interested in right now. I strode to row four, passing Mae’s little protégé, Vincent, hard at work with a sheet of Mae’s math problems as I went. My gaze caught his, but he lowered his eyes and went back to his task without comment.
Mae would be pleased he was doing his homework like a good prisoner.
In row four, I found who I was searching for. “Ah. Just the man I wanted to see.”
Heath Michaelson raised his gaze at the same time his cubicle neighbor did.
“My lucky day then.” Michaelson’s neighbor ran his tongue over his fat lips. “The two most attractive guards in the prison. To what do I owe this extreme privilege?”
“Shut up, DeWitt,” Colt said. “You know he didn’t mean you. Quit being a suck-ass.”
“I wouldn’t mind sucking your a—”
Colt might have been young, and just doing this gig to bring in some extra money for his family, but he was an excellent guard. He silenced DeWitt with a single glare. Which was good, because the man wasn’t my favorite, and I wasn’t in the mood for his shit.
Michaelson remained quiet throughout the whole exchange, not moving from his spot on his bed.
“What’s your relationship to Miss Donovan?”
“Miss who?” DeWitt looked confused, his gaze bouncing back and forth between me and Michaelson like he was at a tennis match.
“We have no relationship.” Michaelson’s icy-blue eyes darted up and to the right.
I shrugged like I believed him. But I was pretty sure he was lying. “You right-handed or left-handed?”
Michaelson gazed down at his hands, and then back up at me. “What’s it matter?”
“Just making friendly conversation.”
“Right-handed.”
I thought as much. That eye dart up and to the right was a dead giveaway. It was something I’d been taught at my old job, a little hint that helped determine when prisoners were full of shit. If a person is right-handed, when they tell the truth they’ll often look up and to the left. But when they lie? They look up and to the right. Left-handed people were the opposite.
I went on like Michaelson hadn’t spoken. “She your girlfriend?”
A muscle ticked in Heath’s jaw. “No. I told you. We have no relationship. I’m just not the sort of guy who walks by when another man has his hands on a woman he shouldn’t have.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell this asshole that the only reason I’d touched Mae earlier today was to keep her safe. I hadn’t been joking when I’d called her green. She had no idea the sort of men who sat on the other side of that classroom door. I didn’t want her just walking in, completely unprotected and unaware. There was a reason the warden had assigned her protection. She might not realize it yet, but she couldn’t just go wandering around the prison, doing whatever she wanted. As much as it pissed me off, I was her babysitter when she was here. It wasn’t a responsibility I would take lightly. If that annoyed her, or if it annoyed this dickhead, then that wasn’t my problem.
DeWitt leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of his knees. “Ooh. The new teacher is your girl?” He scratched at his temple, attempting to appear confused, but his acting was awful. “I thought the bitch you killed was your girl?”
“Shut up, DeWitt,” Michaelson and I snapped in unison.
I eyed the prisoner. “I don’t like the idea you and her know each other somehow. And I don’t like that you’re lying to me. It’s my job to keep her safe. And I can’t do that if I don’t know all the details.” I leaned in closer, bending over and resting my hands on my thighs so we were closer to eye height. I was well aware of how patronizing the position was. It was how adults spoke to children. And it was a deliberate ploy on my behalf. I knew he wouldn’t get up off his seat. Colt and I would have had him flat on his ass in seconds if he tried it. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m going to find out. And then I’m just gonna be annoyed that I had to do all the research for myself.”
“Guess you’re going to be annoyed then.”
I shook my head slowly as I straightened. If he wanted to play it like that, then so be it.
“Pritchard. This her? You said her name was Donovan, right?”
I turned around and took the phone Colt offered.
“Yeah, Mae…” The words died on my lips when I read over the article that Colt had brought up. The headline shouted “Hero Cop Found Dead” in thick black letters. And beneath it, Mae’s image appeared in a photograph taken with a familiar face.
Jayela.
She’d been a favorite around the prison.
I suddenly realized why Mae had looked familiar the first time I’d seen her. I’d seen her briefly at Jayela’s funeral. Shock punched through my gut. And then I stared hard at the man. I was well used to being around the worst of the worst. Murderers. Rapists. Arsonists who had taken dozens of lives. But a man who murdered a woman, and a cop at that, had a special new level of dislike in my heart. “You’re the cop killer?”
DeWitt’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at Heath like the man had suddenly sprouted another head. “No fucking way. I heard about that. That was you?”
Nobody paid him any attention.
I’d known Michaelson was in on pending murder charges, but I hadn’t looked into who the victim was. I saw hundreds of men’s files every day, there was no point or way of remembering every detail of them. As sad as it was, the victims’ names just didn’t matter here. But Jayela mattered. She was one of the good ones. “What in the hell of twisted games are you two playing? You killed her sister? And yet she’s still trying to visit, and taking a job in this shithole just so she can see you? You got golden fucking sperm or some shit?”
DeWitt chuckled. “I’ve seen him in the shower. His dick is pretty fucking golden. Good chance his sperm is, too.”
I didn’t even want to know what DeWitt had been doing or thinking about in the shower. It was Michaelson who was the real problem here. “You stay away from her. Got it?”
I didn’t wait for Michaelson to answer me. I just walked away, wondering how the spunky, full-of-life woman I’d met earlier today, could be so under this guy’s thumb.
17
Heath
DeWitt waited until the guards were on the far side of the room, occupied by other prisoners, before he approached me again. He loitered around the foot of my bed, not entering my personal space, but hanging around the edges like a bad smell.
I stared up at the ceiling, my hands tucked behind my head, ignoring him. Whatever he wanted, I wasn’t interested.
But DeWitt wasn’t one to pick up on subtle body language. “Psst. Michaelson. We need to talk.”
I lifted my head slightly, just enough to make eye contact. He glanced around, fidgeting, impatient for me to pay attention to him. I dropped my head back onto my hands. “Talk then.” I’d already been here long enough to know that he would anyway. The man never shut up.
He came inside my space and perched on my desk chair. “I just came to say thanks.”
“For what? If you think I did you a favor, you got the wrong guy. I didn’t do anything for you.”
“Nah. You did. I got the right guy. I just wanted to tell you thanks for taking the rap.”
That got my attention. I sat up. “What are you talking about?”
“I know you didn’t kill the cop.”
Shock rippled through me. I knew I didn’t kill her either, but there was no way for DeWitt to know it. Suspicion rose, thick and fast. But at least it was a productive emotion. De Witt might have liked to play the clown in here, but I’d been watching him for days. He was smarter than he appeared. And he had pull that made him either a very powerful ally or a very dangerous enemy. “Why do you say that?”
DeWitt leaned back on the chair, tucking his hands behind his head and grinning at me widely. “I put out that hit on the cop.”
It took a moment for the words to even register through my thick head. But when they did, they flipped a switch inside me. The rage didn’t start small, there was no kindling of a tiny fire that gradually builds in intensity. It came hot and fast. An instant explosion that fueled every muscle in my body.
