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If Gia had ever doubted the seriousness of the charges levied against Riker, the visit to the prison slammed down on her consciousness like a grim sledgehammer. As Prosper and Gia had stepped off the shuttle bus and drew closer to the entrance of this first part of the prison, a faded red metal Amnesty Box came into view—last chance for the visitors to dump any prohibited items before they were searched.
Before they were searched?
Rows and rows of rusted, dented lockers stood against a long wall. They were to be used by visitors to deposit all of their belongings— guests had to surrender everything except for the ID necessary for entry and the few permissible items that were allowed to be given to inmates. When Gia shoved her cell phone and purse into one of the secured units, she felt a momentary sense of panic. It was as if she was giving up her last connection to the outside world.
Gia thought of Riker time and time and time again as she navigated her way through the stages of entry. She thought of him on his Harley—free and easy on the open road with the wind whipping through his hair and the sun shining down on him. Riker’s body was always warm, even on the coldest nights. It was as if it were soaking up every bit of light and heat and wind and —life!
How anyone could take being imprisoned in this huge, impenetrable, grim fortress was hard to imagine. But for a man like Riker, every moment must feel like a bullet straight to the heart. Whatever the crime, he was certainly paying the price for that now.
After being electronically body scanned, and sniffed with alarming intimacy by a very large, fierce looking police dog, Gia came face-to-face with her first corrections officer.
“Your ID please ma’am.” The guard said to her. After she presented it, he pointed to a space about two hundred feet away ahead where visitors were taking off their shoes and going through a metal detector. After doing the same, Gia and Prosper were each given a small white card. Printed on the card was the visitor’s name, the inmate’s name, and the visitor’s photograph. After the tickets were handed out, the throngs were then directed to two different parts of the visitors’ center. Here, they stood in line yet again, for another fleet of buses to arrive and take them all to different parts of the complex.
By now, Gia’s back was on fire and her feet were so puffed up and swollen that each step was painful. Even though her body was emitting perspiration in record amounts, Gia’s mouth was as dry as sand, and she was having trouble keeping her balance. When she stumbled over her own feet, Gia drew the attention of a young guard.
“Ma’am let’s get you off your feet.” He motioned her to the chairs against the building.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Gia would have loved to sit down for a minute, but she saw the next round of shuttles approaching the gate and she wanted to be on them.
“Ma’am, you don’t look like you’re feeling too well. Let’s sit you down.” He said with quiet persistence.
She looked at Prosper for help. But to Gia’s disappointment, she found no help there.
“Gia, he’s right. You look like hell. Take a load off and sit for a few.”
“But what if we don’t get on the shuttle bus this time around? How long will we have to wait for the next one? I don’t want to lose my place in this whole process.” Gia looked around again at the large crowd. Aside from herding them all in like cattle, she really had no idea how the system worked.
The officer patiently explained, “The shuttles come every twenty minutes and you will be chosen in groups to get on. After you get off the bus, it’s more of the same. You’re just going to be sitting some more, standing some more and waiting some more. And honestly, ma’am, you don’t look like you’re up for it. I should be sending for the medic and a wagon to get you out of here. I know you don’t want that. What I am trying to do is give you another option, ma’am, but I’ve got hundreds of folks I need to move along. So, I’m done here. If you don’t sit and rest for a few minutes, then I’m going to deny your visit and put in that call to medical. Now, please, take a seat and I’ll make sure you’re the first one on the next round of shuttles.” Then the officer gave her a hard look, shoved a cold bottle of water into her hands and walked away.
Prosper looked relieved. “Gotta agree with the young fucker, Gia. You’re not gonna do Riker, yourself, or anybody else any damn good by getting sent back out. And trust me, that man meant what he said. Now, it’s already been a long ass day, hydrate yourself and take a load off. If we stay here, we’ll be in the front of the line.”
When Gia gave a slight nod of capitulation, Prosper led her to one of the hard metal chairs. Not the most comfortable of seating arrangements, but then nothing about this place screamed hearth and home. Gia leaned her head against the cool of the cement wall and looked again with awe at the throngs of people lined up. It seemed that visiting day at prison was an equal opportunity event. There were people from all walks of life in that line, all ages, all genders, all races. And every one of them had the same weary, age-old look that screamed disappointment at life. The air in the visitors’ center crackled with tension, defeat and barely controlled violence. Gia sipped on the icy water and tried not to think about it.
The officer kept his word and Gia was first on the next shuttle. Then she and Prosper waited in yet another line for the guards to unlock the imposing brick building in front of them. They had to show their identification cards again and remove their shoes again before going through yet another metal detector. Then to ensure the same person came out as went in, their hands were stamped in blacklight ink.
Finally, Gia and Prosper made it through the long, exhausting, labyrinth to the last holding room. Visitors milled about and waited—some sat in the plastic chairs, some bought snacks from the vending machine, some stared blankly at the cheap TV on the wall that blared mind-numbing daytime television. The space reminded Gia of a doctor’s office or the emergency room in a hospital—except that the inmates’ names were called instead of your own.
They were only allowed to go in one visitor at a time, and when Riker’s name was announced, Prosper went in first…
“Denied fuckin’ bail.” Prosper scrubbed a hand over his face. “I gotta tell you, I didn’t see that coming. Hell, I didn’t see any of this coming. And that, in and of itself, gives me a fucking headache.”
Riker leaned in across the metal table of the prison visiting room. “It was a set up. They knew I was coming—they were fucking waiting for me. And now they say that I’m a flight risk? Where the fuck do they think I’m gonna go? Cocksuckers. You’re keeping an eye on her, yeah?”
Prosper nodded. “Goes without saying, brother.”
“Nothing goes without saying when it comes to the safety of my kid and woman.” Riker’s body tensed, and he had to clench his hands together to stop himself from putting a fist through the wall. “Boss, this shit? We never had a bust of this fucking magnitude happen before. You know it and I know it. Someone is talking.”
Prosper’s mouth formed a hard line. He glanced over at the officer standing guard in the room and kept his voice low. “First goddamn Rooster turning on the club—now this. I hate to think that the authorities have ears on us through one of our own, but I’m not gonna be stupid about it either. I’m having all the chapters look into their recent recruits and patch- overs. I can’t believe that if we do have a rat that it’s a long term member, but I suppose at this rate anything is possible. Regardless, it’s just a matter of time before we find out who the fucker is before he can do any more damage. I’m calling in every marker we have out there in order to make that happen. You ain’t gonna do one more fucking day in here than you have to.”
“I’m facing a lot of time if shit goes wrong…” Riker began.
“Shit ain’t gonna go wrong.” Prosper interrupted with a snarl.
“I’m facing a lot of time if shit goes wrong.” Riker repeated. His eyes narrowed, and laser focused on Prosper. “I want Gia and the kid taken care of.”
“You think you got to ask that, brother?” Prosper frowned.
“Not just taken care of by the club. I wantyourword, boss. I want you to promise me that you’ll take her on as your personal responsibility. Get Gia and my baby the fuck out of here, send her to Italy or some other fucking place. I don’t want a woman tied to me when I got nothing to give but a couple of damn hours a week visitation. She deserves more, my kid deserves more. You understand me? Whatever the fuck it takes, I want her shed of the club, of me, and of this life. I offered her better and you’re gonna help me make sure she gets better.”
