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Heaven glanced toward the microwaves, before shifting her gaze over at the registration table. Sergeant Struthers walked in and stood by the table engaging in conversation with the two female officers, who giggled like two silly schoolgirls.
They probably want to suck his dick, Heaven thought, her attention being snatched by a voice in back of her. “I got my eye on you, Lewis,” the male voice said low, causing her skin to prick with goose bumps. She could smell a hint of mint on his breath.
Heaven glanced over her shoulder and into the eyes of the light-skinned officer who’d been over on the other side of the room watching her.
“Should I be scared . . .?” She glanced at his nametag. “Officer Flores?”
He grinned. “Nah, be ready; that’s all.” Then he walked off, leaving her baffled with his masculine, woodsy scent swirling around her.
Be ready for what?
“Girl, that bathroom is a mess,” Bianca said, finally returning to her seat holding two bags of Doritos and two bottles of water in her hands.
Heaven swallowed, glancing up at her. “Girl, please. These hoes coming up in here to visit are about as nasty and trifling as some of the inmates.”
“So I see.” She handed Heaven a bag of chips. “You still like Cool Ranch?”
She smiled. “Girl, you know these are my favorite.” She took the bag, opening them. “Thanks.”
For the remainder of the two-hour visit, the two women talked, laughed, and gouged on carbs the way they used to when they were young girls.
When the announcement was made that visiting was over, Heaven stood to her feet, and Bianca reluctantly did the same. It hurt her to see Heaven in prison garb, but she was relieved to see how good she looked in spite of her current situation.
“It was so good to see you.”
“You, too. Thanks for coming.”
“No problem, girl. I’m here for you.”
The two women hugged, promising to stay in touch. Heaven gave her cousin a wave and watched her leave out the visiting area, while she made her way over to the line for the strip room to be searched.
And across the room, all Heaven felt was the heat of eyes burning over her flesh. And she couldn’t help staring back into the gaze of Officer Flores, wondering exactly what the hell she needed to be ready for.
FORTY
Ready or Not . . .
Heaven found herself feeling a mixture of relief and sadness on her way back to the housing unit. She was relieved knowing she had someone on the outside that she could honestly trust to handle her money affairs, without trying to fuck her over. She cursed herself for not thinking of her cousin sooner. Bianca had always been trustworthy, even while growing up. As teens, she’d entrusted Bianca with her secrets, like getting pregnant while in college, then having an abortion, and her three trips to the clinic with syphilis once and chlamydia twice.
Not once had Bianca judged her or repeated what she’d been told. And Heaven loved her for safeguarding her secrets; never throwing them back up in her face, as they grew older and apart.
Heaven was pissed at herself for not reaching out to her all this time, but was happy her cousin had made her way up to the prison to visit.
As much as she’d needed that visit, it hurt her even more having to hug Bianca goodbye, knowing she wouldn’t be walking out that door with her for many years to come.
With her right hand, she swiped at a lone tear before it had a chance to slide down her cheek. “No tears,” she mumbled to herself. Crying made her vulnerable and a potentially easy target for some wolf-ass bitch lurking in the shadows for new prey. Her list of enemies seemed to be growing rapidly thanks to her still brewing beefs with that Goldie bitch and the rest of her 4 East cronies.
All over some ho who tried to force herself on her.
Heaven shook her head.
Even with the effort administration put on her to keep her and the inmates she’d fought away from each other, Heaven knew if anyone wanted to get at her, they would.
The question was when?
The corridor back to her housing unit was uncharacteristically quiet for a Saturday afternoon, which made her wonder why there wasn’t a lot of movement, or the sound of other inmates within earshot. She’d been one of the last inmates to get strip-searched and had expected there’d be stragglers in the corridors.
But there wasn’t.
