My eyes narrowed at the inmate serving, but she looked sheepish, begging me to say nothing. So I didn’t. It wasn’t her fault, anyway. No doubt she’d been told how much to serve us. They’d thrown her and all the other kitchen workers onto the front lines of our famished wrath. I gave her a terse smile and carried along the queue.
But Mandy.
Fucking Mandy. I was almost at my table when Mandy threw her tray into the face of that same meek server, screaming for more potatoes, losing her rag after days of growing tension.
Damn, I would have put money on it being Mandy that snapped first. I had seen so little of her lately, but still heard of her antics from others, or rather, because I eavesdropped on their gossiping. It wasn’t just me she had issues with, finding fault in almost everyone.
And today, the poor server girl, who couldn’t have been older than twenty-two, just trying to get by.
The girl screamed, backed away, splattered with hot stew over her face, and Mandy bellowed.
And then mayhem.
A swarm of angry, hungry women with nothing better to do than lose their shit over smaller portions of food. We were lightheaded and bored, a dangerous combination. It took only seconds for most of the mess hall to react, to throw their own trays or grab a fistful of their dinner and chuck it at the panicking guards.
I smiled, and with an excited yell, jumped onto the rickety table before throwing my tray across the room. I wanted the best view of this shit, to lose myself in the chaos and enjoy not being the cause of it for once. It fed me better than the terrible food ever could.
“Fuck this!” Mandy shrieked, going red in the face, surrounded by her little followers. “Fuck you all!” She clambered over the serving counter and shoved a fistful of the remaining potatoes into her own mouth, letting it spray and slobber all down her front as she continued bellowing.
“Yeah!” someone else shouted, following Mandy over the counter, copying her and grabbing at thefood, swallowing it or throwing it while the disorder grew. Chunks of chicken stew, sprays of watery vegetable medley, and cartons of almost sour milk squirted.
The servers backed away, likely agreeing with us, getting the same treatment, but unsure how to proceed. Were they the bad guys? No. Might they get the blame? Maybe. I bit my lip as I watched everything unfold from the safety of my feet on the table, but something crept up my spine, an awareness.
The guards were quick to action after the initial surprise, sweeping through the space in relative control. Radio calls made, batons out, voices loud as they fought off the hungry women and tried to maintain order.
I laughed again, not knowing where to look as guards dove into the fray, getting smears of food on their faces, their uniform.
Darling was across the way, by a door, looking at me with an… interesting expression. It was black, full of something I couldn’t place.
Oh, there we go. There was that prickle. I gave him a wicked grin, and he smirked back, his eyes dark andheavy, lustful. Surprising.He made no move to help his colleagues.
As the insanity increased, with screams and shouts and elbows bashing into noses, I dropped to the floor and weaved through the crowd, all of a sudden not worried about being hungry.
This needed to happen. Maybe it was the chaos of the moment spiking my adrenaline, or because I saw a thing I could do because of it…
But I needed him alone, for a few minutes at least. I was getting desperate. Itchy. He avoided me, acted like we werenothing,and I hated it. He had the power to decide when I existed to him, and it wasn’t okay.
When I reached him, I didn’t look at him, refused to acknowledge him at all as I walked down the corridor toward the gate. A frisson of excitement rippled through me when he trailed behind me and opened the supply closet with his keycard, slipping inside. Not sparing me a single glance as he moved, almost like he was just going to collect the damn mop and bucket. But I knew what it meant.
I followed him into the darkness, stepping into the shadowy space without a thought in my head beyonddoing as he directed me. It was manipulation, that’s what I told myself as I let myself be led into the dark. If I pretended to always do as he said, he’d trust me. Want me more.I’d started this, but it was clear it was his to finish.
That look he’d given me across the mini riot was all I needed to fall to my knees for him. And I was so ready to have him under my thumb at last.
“Inmate,” he husked, shutting the door and propping a broom handle across it so it would be impossible to open from the outside.
“Officer,” I responded. Maybe this was his kink? Maybe that’s why it had never been hard to get him on board with this fuckery.
He turned to me. “This is so fucking wrong, but I just couldn’t be away from you, little killer.”
I tilted my head, surprised at his words, at that nickname. He kept using it, tricking me into thinking he thought about me when he was alone in his bed. I struggled to make up my damn mind about him. Was this even worth my time? Would it work?
“What do you mean?” I asked, unable to resist pushing back.
He huffed out a breath. “Just… turn around.”
I did it. Yeah, I fucking did it. I turned a beat after his demand, and yelped when he shoved my torso forward, making it so I had to brace my hands on the wall or smack my nose into it. It was dark in here, but that didn’t seem to matter to him as one hand landed on my hip and the other on the bottom of my spine, pushing down so my back arched.
“Mm,” he groaned. “You feel so good bending to my will.”
