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Grabbing the pen I tossed, I clicked it, pointing it in her direction. “All right, Benedicta, but I’ve got my eye on you.” Making my notes and dropping the pen in my cupholder, I had my eye on a number of things. For now, I liked how her name rolled off my tongue, old school and beautiful. Unfortunately her expression took on a cynical edge, her defenses erecting a high wall before my eyes.
“It’s Cruz. I don’t want to be that familiar with you or anyone else.”
“Four years, seven months, and twenty nine days is long time to be without an ally in here.” I steeple my fingers, watching her, waiting.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Our conversation seemed to make her turn in more on herself, and I was sorry to see her go. I hadn’t learned much of anything from her except that I was in trouble if this attraction got out of hand. I didn’t need to torture myself stroking my dick in private to avoid throwing her up against a wall.
She jumped up when a knock on the door sounded. Garcia helped himself to the door and took Ms. Cruz by the arm, leading her out. I said nothing as she stumbled away and didn’t look back. I watched them walk down the corridor and out of sight. Letting go of a heavy sigh, she’d just have to learn to trust me.
Alone, I pored over her file again. I was going to meet with the other women on the roster today, but first, I had to wrap my mind around what she’d told me. It wasn’t so much in what she said, but the implication that left a big fucking door wide open. She had said she imagined it was a mess, not that she knew or had even seen it in person. She told me she was convicted and that it didn’t matter, like she had given up on herself when the system clearly did. I didn’t like the questions it raised or the nagging in my gut. Cursing, I knew Benedicta Cruz was going to be more trouble than Maris had ever been.
Five
Nene
“Always liked the newbies.” He smelled my hair pressing against me as bile rose in the back of my throat. Garcia, as I quickly learned, had a desire for hurting others. He rubbed his greasy motherfucking nose against me, making my skin crawl. Acid bubbled low in my stomach. Luckily, I hadn’t eaten anything at lunch so nothing was going to come up.
“Don’t touch me.” I tried to dislodge my arm from his grasp, but he held firm, squeezing until my skin was pinched and my eyes leaked weak tears. I would feel those bruises for days and no one would care.
“That’s just it, new girl. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want.” His breath danced across my skin like razor blades ready to cut deep. “You play nice, and things will go so much better for you. Don’t play nice, and I’ll make your life a living hell for the next five years, bitch.” He shoved me against the wall, rubbing his erect dick against me. It wasn’t any consolation knowing his pecker was as small as his brain. Just because he was small didn’t meant he couldn’t hurt me in other ways, but it made sense why he was such an asshole.
Four years, seven months, and twenty-nine days.
The mantra repeated in my head, and each day would be one less to suffer through. He knew nothing about me. Bile rose in my throat burning my nose. I found the energy to finally hit someone out of self-defense, but he let me go. I rubbed my arm, working out the pain, and he nodded to the corridor filled with bunk beds.
“Sweet dreams.” He pushed me down the hall.
“I’m already in hell.” I hissed back taking a step away behind the barred partition.
Garcia sauntered off leaving me to make my way back to my cell. If I had a shank I would stab him over and over until the smug expression was off his face. Never had I felt a level of revulsion and violence before. Apparently, I had to come to prison to get crooked.
I thought about Warden Sheppard. The way he stood in the cafeteria watching, waiting. His body seemed poised to anticipate something, but what I didn’t know. There was an edge to him buffered by his low voice when he spoke, refined and in charge. He was the complete opposite of Garcia. I didn’t know yet if that was good or perhaps worse but there was a gentleness in him I found unexpected in place like this. It had been a longtime since I’d felt a spark of anything sexual. I was beginning to think that part of me might have died when I was incarcerated and I hadn’t missed it until now.
“Nene, you okay?” Turning abruptly, Sharee leaned up from her bunk. No. I would never be okay. I would never be the same. I would never trust again.
I would-just-never-be.
I wiped my good arm over my face clearing it of tears and pushing all thoughts of the warden behind me. “Yeah, I will be.” I lied climbing into my top bunk across from her and rolled over facing the wall. The grayish blue paint was drab and far from a fancy hotel. I pressed my nail against the paint and made an indentation. I’d count the days if it killed me, making a small slash, bending my nail from the pressure. Day one down, I let my eyes drift shut and released my mind into sleep.
***
The next morning came too quickly, but I relished the time passing. I had learned that my remaining savings, a few hundred dollars had been used up for legal fees. I wasn’t sure how they managed that, but my funds for the commissary were zero. Not that I wanted anything, but a clean pair of underwear, or flip-flops for the shower would have been nice. Pads were provided once a month; I only had to wait for a guard to get them for me. I figured I’d be bleeding through my toilet paper pad before then, but Sharee got some from the pregnant girl in our room since she was pretty plugged up the next few months anyway.
More favors I owed.
Countless debts racked up.
Showers were first this morning for my block and then breakfast, the day was broken up in segments and my sticky, damp shoes squeaked on the tiles. Hopefully, I would be able to go outside later and have the sun dry these things before my toes started to rot. I said hopefully because the sun drifted behind clouds and the sky got dark, raining down huge droplets into the yard creating mud puddles from the window where I viewed outside. Going out wasn’t happening today.
Lunch was pretty much the same. Our little table of newbies crowded together, and the Tribe members eyed us up and down. I bet they were picking out their next victim to attack. They had upgraded the woman named Maris to sitting with them after she dumped my tray. Either that was good for me or bad. I hadn’t given it a whole lot of thought, considering day two was starting out decent.
Sharee pointed at me with her spoon having licked the pudding off the end of it. “Listen, Nene. Word is that you pissed off some Tribes. Watch your back around here.”
“I got the message loud and clear.” I pushed the food around on my tray again. Nothing appetizing about chicken parmesan that looked like someone made a crime scene of the breast patty and no cheese topping it. I stabbed the green string beans with my flimsy plastic spork. Overcooked but firm enough to eat. At this rate, I’d die of malnutrition before my parole hearing and save the taxpayers a bunch of money.
“Here, take mine. The smell is making me sick.” Raina, the pregnant girl pushed her green beans onto my tray mumbling about texture and foods she was craving.
“It’s probably her shoes.” Sharee commented and dumped her beans onto my tray and taking my slaughtered chicken patty instead.
