Ten
Simone
The feel of the cold concrete bled through my jeans and onto my butt, which was still planted on the floor. I stared up at Rubin as he towered over me. He stared back with a look that reminded me I was less than the filth under his shoe.
I kept my features relaxed and fought to not let my emotions get the better of me. This had been my idea after all, and I wasn’t naive enough to believe Rubin would be pleasant. Not after what I’d done.
But it didn’t matter.
Keep your head down. Live till the next fight.
Aaron’s oft-repeated words buzzed through my mind like a mantra, and I forced my brain to latch onto them.
Stay alive to find Aaron, make sure both of us were okay.
That was all I needed to do. It was all that mattered, and nothing, not even Rubin’s roller coaster to hell, would get in the way of that.
Because Aaron had to be okay. If he wasn’t…
I pushed myself off the ground, uncaring of how I looked and unwilling to let my thoughts take me down that dark path. Rubin didn’t have the decency to look away as I adjusted my clothes, and I didn’t bother to either. Our deal had been struck, so he’d see it all anyway.
I was curious—and disgustingly nervous—about what he’d think. Then I chuckled. Whether he enjoyed it, whether I did, was beside the point.
My body was simply a receptacle for his hate.
Rubin waited until I broke his gaze to look around the common area. Looking at him, you’d never know that seventy-four seconds ago his fingers had been in my pussy. That didn’t matter now and wouldn’t matter in the future I couldn’t count on.
So I bit back the frustration shimmering under my skin—the rage I couldn’t afford—and turned my mind from the climax I’d been denied.
I stared at his back. What had I gotten myself into? I was frozen for a moment but shook it off. I hadn’t gotten myself into anything. But I was the only one who would get me out. I cleared my throat and then took two steps to stand beside him.
“This might be different, but as I understand this type of design, there are units, basically self-contained pods with cells and interlocking common areas. Are there administrative buildings in all of the different pods?” I asked.
He looked like a hawk waiting to swoop down on an unsuspecting rodent as he let his gaze sweep the room.
I followed, wondering what he could be looking for.
“Yes. This one just so happens to have the warden’s office, but there are other offices elsewhere.
” He stopped in front of a three-foot-tall metal cart stacked with pale yellow trays.
“You should eat something,” I said as I offered Rubin a tiny apple and bottle of water.
He ignored me and grabbed a tray that had a bag of chips, and what I assumed was supposed to be a sandwich.
I grabbed a tray of my own and unwrapped the sandwich. Beggars couldn’t be choosers on the best of days, and these weren’t those.
I took another bite of the sandwich and smiled.
Rubin nodded his head for me to continue.
I smiled brighter. “This brings back memories. Some of them are even good ones.”
“Why does this garbage the warden calls food bring back memories?”
“Because that garbage, dear Rubin, is government peanut butter. Better known as the shit they give kids on free lunch. Or at least they used to. I don’t know what they do now.
” I took another bite. “It came in a five-pound can with a white label and PEANUT BUTTER in all caps. Some of the cans even had a little illustrated peanut. I always thought the ones with the logo tasted better.”
I smiled, and Rubin looked at me, his brow arched.
“We should catalog all of this,” I said.
“We will eventually, but we might not be staying here.”
He lifted the bag off the tray, opened it, took a bite of the sandwich, and frowned. I took a bite of my own. Not the worst, but Rubin obviously disagreed. And I was curious.
“You don’t know what these sandwiches taste like? You’ve been here for a year and a half,” I said, realizing that mentioning Rubin’s imprisonment maybe wasn’t the smartest plan.
But he just shrugged. “I had my own dietary accommodations.”
I huffed. “Oh, so you paid someone to bring you in real food.”
He didn’t bother to confirm it, but instead took another bite of the sandwich.
“I sometimes forget that you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”
Rubin had the nerve to look offended, and I smiled.
“What? I’m just saying. You’ve never put water in your cereal because there was no milk.”
He looked at me but didn’t respond. I shrugged and then let out a chuckle. “I didn’t either. It was easier to just eat it dry.”
I finished the rest of the sandwich then tried to eat the apple, which was hard and tasteless.
“What’s been going on outside?” Rubin asked.
“Everything was pretty much normal until a couple of weeks ago. Then things got bad. We went to ATM-only at the bank,” I said.
Rubin frowned, and I remembered how my bank teller job and eventual promotion to manager had been a point of contention for years.
Even when I had worked for him, I had kept it, and only managed to get him to agree by pointing out it would look strange if I had no employment at all.
I also didn’t bother to mention that Damian had someone come to the branch at least once a week.
No doubt to intimidate me. It worked too, but my pride wouldn’t allow me to quit.
“I’d cover the ATM myself if someone had trouble, and then this morning someone knocked at my door and told me I had somewhere to be, but you probably knew that, right?”
He didn’t respond, and instead put all of the bottled water into a box and stacked the remaining trays on the cart in a corner.
He kept walking, and I followed him outside.
He went to one corner of the outdoor area and stared intently at the bricks.
I watched as he pushed at one of the bricks, which wobbled and then gave.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He pulled out something that looked to be a spoon. I looked at it closely and could see that it was actually three spoons with the ends broken off, wrapped with something.
“Is that homemade rope?” I asked.
“Sort of. It’s toilet paper, twisted up to make a pommel for a knife.”
I looked at it, then looked at Rubin. “Wow, is that my very first prison shank?” I said.
He nodded. “Yeah. Hopefully, we’ll find some more.”
“Hopefully, we won’t need them,” I countered.
He didn’t respond, but I knew that it was wishful thinking just as well as he did. We continued, and I stayed close to Rubin as we went into the cells.
“This place is disgusting,” I said.
“You should try living here for a year and a half.”
Rubin didn’t look at me, but his body was tense with anger that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
I said nothing, and soon we had cleared all sixteen cells in this pod.
Found four more shanks, a bit more bottled water, and Rubin finally faced me.
He’d been almost relaxed as we’d searched the pod, but now he stood tense, the weight of his rage directed at me.
I acted like I didn’t notice. “What now?”
My attempt at ease didn’t fool Rubin one bit. “Now we go back to the warden’s office.”
“Is that necessary?” I rubbed my arms, hating how weak I looked, but unable to hide it.
“Don’t worry, Simone,” he said, the calm in his voice more insulting than an actual insult would have been, “I’ll get you across the catwalk.”
And insult or not, I was yet again left putting my life in Rubin’s hands, leaving me to wonder what he would do with it.