I sat on the floor and cried to make my eyes puffy. I dug my fingers into my biceps, squeezing and clawing, leaving nail prints so deep they would bruise. Bashing my head against the wall made my brain swim.
But I didn’t have long; those footsteps would return soon. Darling’s, Randal’s, one of the other guards, I didn’t know.
I picked my lips, scratched at them until they were raw and bloody. Then I slumped, let my body fall and remained motionless.
Had to be realistic.
And I still had his cum on my shirt. Idiot had walked away with the evidence drying on my clothes.
When the hatch slid open, the guard preparing to tell me to stand back, I whimpered, curled in on myself further.
“Inmate?” the guard, one of the female ones, questioned, shining her torch through the gap.
“Please,” I cried. “I need help.” I peered up at her, meeting her eyes through the hatch, and saw the moment she connected some dots.
She thought I looked ravaged, beaten. “Stay there,” she said before muttering something into her walkie talkie. “I’m just calling for backup.”
How fucked up was this system that a woman bleeding and begging on the floor needed backup?
It was fair, though. I’d manipulated guards into private spaces with me before. Never women though, I would never hurt her. She was safe with me.
Seconds passed before another guard arrived, and it was all a bit of a blur. I played it well, slipping in and out of consciousness, asking for help, begging them not to let it happen again.
They asked what had happened, and I just let myself drop.
Seven
Penny
Ismiled at the beeps.
Beep, beep, beep.
They weren’t my own beeps. I wasn’t that unwell. But someone in here was beeping away at a nice, steady pace. Their heart calm, their pulse stable. Must be nice. To let a machine take over, to switch off in such a deep way that you can’t even breathe by yourself.
The infirmary was one of those places an inmate could almost pretend you were alone. A curtain went two-thirds of the way round my bed, and yes, my arms were handcuffed to the metal frame, but I couldn’t see anyone, and no one could see me. At least not at every moment. Because they had me on suicide watch.
I pulled a stupid face just because, then winced at the pain it caused. Right. Bloodied lips, banged up head.
I sighed and tried to go back to sleep, to enjoy the aloneness of it all before someone came a-knocking. Which was never long in here. Turns out they didn’t trust a bunch of criminals with unattended medical equipment, handcuffed or not.Especially when they tried to end their sentence early.
“Ah,” the sweet voice of a nurse said as she stepped into my little space the second my lids closed. “I thought you’d be up soon. We’ll have some questions for you.”
I peeked open one eye and looked at her. She was maybe fifty, with a warm smile and the arms of a potato farmer, sturdy, grounded. I liked her. I decided Sally was great the last time she’d tried to help me. First impressions mattered, and hers was a soft smile and firm eyes as she waited for me to react. Giving me the space I needed to study her.
“Thanks, Sally,” I muttered, trying to open my eyes in the light.
Her warm smile deepened, and she patted her tag. “You banged up your head pretty good, girl, mild concussion.”
From banging my own stupid head on a wall? Fuck me.
“Do you feel up to talking?” Sally asked, sitting on the plastic chair to my side. “You can tell me, and I can relay the information if it’s… sensitive. I made sure no one examined you. You aren’t washed, but you’re- no one examined you, Penny.”
I knew what she was trying to tell me — that they didn’t check if I’d been raped because it would be an invasion of my privacy. I respected her for that. For even attempting to defend my honor in any way. But it spoke of bad things here, so why wasn’t it investigated? Why weren’t the guards who looked after me while I was down there investigated already?
The prison system wasn’t too worried about autonomy, after all. Just covering their own backs. I smiled at Sally. “I’m okay,” I said. “I wasn’t… he didn’t.”
“He?”
