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“Dad…” Jasmine whispers, taking his hand. I look away. This is a private moment. Besides, some of the inmates are starting to shift uncomfortably, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something’s up. I glance around and see that there are only two guards in this room, and neither of them appear armed with more than tasers. More importantly, neither of them are showing any signs of concern, which strikes me as wrong. Can’t they feel the tension in the air?
“I’m sorry, Jasmine,” I hear her father mutter. “Please, forgive me.”
“Of course I forgive you!” she exclaims. “You made a mistake, Dad, that’s all. We all do because it’s only human. You’ll see. You’ll be out in a few years and then we can put this incident behind us.”
Suddenly, Willy sits up, his eyes alert.
“You should leave,” he says, glancing around the room. Has he also detected something off?
“Why do you keep saying that?” Jasmine asks. “We just got here, Daddy. It’s fine.”
“Please,” he insists, his eyes darting around the room shiftily. “Just trust me.” This confirms it for me. I stand up, my hand grasping Jasmine’s elbow.
“Come on, baby girl.”
“Wait, what are you doing?” she gasps as I literally pull her to her feet. She’s stunned and surprised, but there’s a nasty vibe in the air, and I don’t like it.
“We’re leaving,” I growl through clenched teeth, my eyes darting from inmate to inmate, who are now rising to their feet. The other visitors look around, confused. Some of them are trying to speak with the inmates, but they’re not answering. Instead, they ignore their friends and family, their eyes alert. Then, the guards start ordering the inmates to sit back down, but of course, it’s no use. Something’s brewing, and it’s bad.
Jasmine’s eyes grow wide as she looks around the room, catching on that something is seriously wrong.
“What’s happening?” she gasps. “Dad?” But her father is backing away from us, shaking his head. “Logan?” she whispers. “What’s going on?”
I’ve locked eyes with an enormous tattooed prisoner standing a few feet away from us, and I don’t answer. I’m a large man, but this giant is several inches taller and considerably heavier. His body is tensing as his fists clench into two angry hams, the veins in his neck popping. He’s breathing heavily, teeth gritted, and he’s about to attack me. My body responds immediately, adrenaline crashing through my veins as I feel a guttural growl start deep in my system.
Andre the Giant launches himself at me and I forcibly shove Jasmine to the side, out of harm’s way. I’m vaguely aware of her surprised scream and somewhere deep in my psyche, I’m pained by the thought of accidentally hurting her. But protecting her is more important.
Meanwhile, the huge inmate crosses the yard or so between us in just a few strides and collides with me, knocking me backwards into some tables and benches, crushing me under him. Instantly, a siren tears through the entire building as chaos erupts all around us. People scream and begin to run, sending tables and chairs flying. A woman starts to batter at the door with her fists, but it’s locked. Meanwhile, I can’t focus on anything except the asshole attacking me. Jasmine lets out a shriek from somewhere over to my right, but I can’t see her. With a grunt, I push the mountain of violent muscle off me, and the inmate goes crashing into some benches. I launch myself at him, gaining the upper hand and pinning him beneath me, serving him a volley of punches to the face.
“Unnnh!” he cries, holding both hands up to his bloodied nose. “Shit!”
I manage to raise my head for a split second and see Jasmine on her hands and knees on the floor, feverishly scraping together what looks like loose pieces of paper and stuffing them into her handbag with trembling hands. What is she doing? Her face is as white as a sheet, and she looks petrified, but then Jasmine catches my eye and jumps to her feet. But before she can take two steps, another inmate intercepts her, lifting her into the air, preparing for a body slam. Oh shit, my girlfriend’s about to be transformed into scrambled eggs.
“No!” I roar, and instantly abandon my fight with the giant. But he pulls me back down, smacking my body painfully into the floor, knocking the air from my lungs. I can hear Jasmine screaming and pleading with her attacker. Fueled by nothing but adrenaline, I force myself to flip over onto my back, kicking the giant in the crotch just as he launches himself onto me, and he falls to his knees, gasping and choking with pain. From somewhere in the room, the electric sound of a taser tells me the guards have managed to stun at least one of the inmates. But they’re powerless against the teeming, seething mass of chaos, and I lose track of my girlfriend.
By the time I pull myself to my feet, Jasmine’s gone. And so is almost everyone else, including the prisoners. The door swings crazily on its hinges, and the only people left in the visiting room with me are the two guards, dazed and bleeding; the one inmate who was tased; the injured giant I incapacitated; and Jasmine’s father, who sits cowering against the wall.
“What the fuck?” I scream. “What the hell was that?”
But no one answers. Panting and seething with anger, I stumble, my vision red, before my eye falls on the loose pieces of paper that still litter the floor of the visiting room. What the hell is this? Jasmine’s bag lies open, its contents spilled, and there’s a brown envelope from which the papers have clearly fallen.
I reach down to investigate the pieces of paper, and feel my entire body go rigid. These are not nothing. These are photos of my Jasmine, nude and lush, in all sorts of erotic positions. Why she had these pictures in her handbag, I don’t know. But Idoknow with certainty that these criminals have seen them, and that they’ve taken her.
My heart slams into my chest as rage engulfs me. I don’t know where they’ve spirited Jasmine off to, but it’s only too clear what they plan to do to her because we’re in a godforsaken prison, for Christ’s sake. These low-lifes are going to commit a crime of the worst sort, but it’s not going to happen … not if I can get to her in time.
10
Jasmine
The inmates have now successfully broken out of Ardsley Correctional Facility, and all I can hear is the grunting and the panting of the man whose shoulder I lay flung across. And the crunching of twigs and leaves under the feet of the escaped inmates as they run through the woods. I have no idea where we are, and I’ve lost count of the time that’s passed. The sirens have stopped. Either because we’re now too far from the prison for us to hear them, or because the facility has gone into a different mode of alert. There’s no point in the alarm anymore. Does this mean they’re coming for them? For me? Who will save me?
I stopped fighting some time ago because it seems pointless. When they first dragged me off, I screamed and scratched and clawed and bit, but none of it made a difference. All I got out of that was a few slaps across the cheek and a disgusting comment from my captor that the more I tried to injure him, the more I was turning him on. So I stopped.
But where is Logan? Did he see them take me? Is he okay? Right before I was carried off, I saw him battling the largest man I’ve ever seen in my life. Logan seemed to be winning, but he was drenched in blood and it was ugly. I hope the blood wasn’t his.
To make matters worse, my fall sent my handbag to the floor and the contents spilled out all over the floor - including the envelope with the erotic pictures for Logan’s birthday album. I was going to ask Logan to drop me off in town on the way back to the mansion later today, with the white lie of meeting a friend for coffee, but secretly planning on going to the post office to mail the envelope.
Instead, the scandalous pictures now lay scattered on the floor of the visiting room of a men’s prison. To my horror, several of the inmates saw them, and even in the chaos of their outbreak, I could see bulges forming in their coveralls as the erotic snaps made them hard. I desperately tried to pick them back up, but it was useless. My captor lifted me off my feet and carried me off, rendering me helpless as I screamed for Logan.
