Chapter 3
Three
Penny
Ispent three days wandering the four walls of the cell and mapping out all the places other women had scratched out their pleas into the brick, three glorious lonely days where my mind could wander however it wanted and no one watched me shit. Or tried to talk to me while I was pissing.
It had been a week, maybe two, since then, and I’d worked to keep my head down. Solitary was fine, but only for a little while. Anymore than that and the voices got too loud.
CO Randal leaned over me in the mess hall; his hands braced on the metal table while I tried to eat my dang pie. Pie night was one of the few good ones, the pastry rock solid, but the innards mush — together, somewhat edible.
And CO fucking Randal was getting in the way of it. From someone I’d never seen around before, he was suddenly everywhere. He looked at me with hunger now, with knowing, like I was about to fall to my knees any second and finish what we started. He thought he had the power.
I heard one of the other inmates whispering about the attention he was giving me, suspicion strong in their tone. They giggled about it, wondering if they might get anything from me for it. Whatever they thought I was blowing him in exchange for, they wanted it, too.
In the time since our sort of accidental blow and split, the way he stared at me grew darker, more urgent. He pestered me for another go every time he passed me by.
I looked up at him through my eyelashes, ignoring the glare from the woman opposite me, a braver one who asked me to share whatever favors I was getting and who I’d told to go to hell. “Yes, CO Randal?” I asked, sweet and low, plastic fork braced over my pie.
His eyes narrowed. “Showers.”
“I don’t need a shower,” I told him, enjoying the most coy and innocent act I could muster up. It was laughable, really, that anyone might mistake me for an innocent, but Randal’s cheeks flushed. Anger or horniness?
“They’re empty. They’re due to be cleaned.” He wasn’t very good at this. The other women who traded for favors had much more subtle officers under their thumbs. I knew Randal had been at this before, though, so maybe this idiotic obviousness worked for him.
The other COs in the room meandered about, ignoring him. All corrupt, every single one. Under a warden who didn’t give a shit and Saggy Sal, who we never even saw. Their boss spent most of his time somewhere else.
“Clean them, then,” I told Randal, tipping my head.
Randal groaned, his hand landing on my wrist, squeezing a bit too tight. “Inmate, come with me now or face the consequences. You can’t refuse the commands of a correctional officer.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I very well could, debating how to hurt him with the plastic fork I had in my grasp, when I was interrupted before I could even start.
“What’s going on here?” CO Darling, my savior from this dusty dick, appeared with all his gravel-voiced charm.
Randal released my hand and stood, turning sharply to his senior officer.
Because he was, I saw it on CO Darling’s badge.
He was a senior correctional officer, a corporal or whatever, here to whip everyone into shape where Sal couldn’t.
“She wasn’t listening,” Randal said. “Insubordination. I was about to take her back to solitary.”
“And we take them all to solitary when they snip at you?” Darling asked, frowning, looking between us. “These are criminal women, Randal. If you can’t handle them being assholes, maybe this isn’t the job for you.”
A smile spread across my face as I settled back, my pie no longer of interest, desperate to see how this little power play might go. CO Darling was… far too intriguing. There was a familiarity in him, not safe, but familiar. I felt an instant connection that made my skin crawl.
Randal took a beat. “No, I can,” he said, like they were hard words to say. “But she—”
“This is the second time I’ve caught you being inappropriate with Karner,” Darling told him, his eyes darting to me. I winked, enjoying the way his muscles tensed up in his jaw. “I will deal with Karner from here on. You are dismissed.”
Randal huffed, and with slumped shoulders and blue balls, sloped away, probably to find another incarcerated woman to harass.
Shit, I needed to nip that in the bud before he had the chance to.
But I forgot about him the second he was out of sight, my eyes all for Darling.
I wanted to learn his first name, his middle name, where he was born, all of it.
And when he gestured for me to follow him, I did without hesitation, making sure to shoot Randal a smirk as we passed by him at his new post by the gates.
CO Darling took me to my cell. Not the showers. And not solitary, thank fuck. The three days in there after Mandy tried to beat my ass had me sorted on alone time for now. Small doses were all my brain could handle before things went… loopy.
I strolled into my cell and turned, expecting Darling to leave me, maybe have a bit of a rant about my poor social skills first or whatever, but he stepped in too, shutting the door behind him.
My eyebrow quirked. “Don’t tell me you’re one of them, too?” I asked. It was disappointment that rocketed through me first. They were all the fucking same. Every single one of them. Yeah, disappointment. It made my veins ache.
“One of what?” he questioned, leaning against the door, letting his gaze run up and down my body like he was looking for something specific. I would feel self-conscious if I’d had any say in what I was wearing. Instead, I just let him look.
It was harmless to both of us. But it was building up the argument in my mind. Was CO Darling just the same as the rest? A handsome face and gruff demeanor didn’t make him safe.
“The pervy COs,” I said. “You know, the ones who expect a blowy or a quick fuck and will give you special treatment? The plot of many a porno. There’s no way you don’t know.”
“I’m not a pervy CO, Penelope.” He said my name like it belonged to him, and all of a sudden I wished he was a bit pervy. I could take from men too, if they were careful. If I was.
“Then what do you want?” I asked, peering at the closed door. “It’s not exactly protocol to lock yourself away with an inmate, Darling.”
He frowned and rose back up, looking behind him to the door. I stood in the middle of my cell like a shriveled plum, waiting for him to do what he came here to do. Sometimes they didn’t start out pervy, but it fell into their laps with time, with boredom.
“I could suck your cock, if you wanted,” I said, testing him. “See how you like it. Swap me gagging on you for a pack of cigarettes.”
“You smoke?” he asked, breezing past my offer. His dark hair was pushed back, though some had fallen free of the gel or the wax he used. It made him look put together, but slipping. Cracks forming in his careful facade.
I shook my head, breezing past his rejection. “Just valuable. I can trade them for shit without having to lick any pussies.”
His eyebrow quirked right up at that, and I noticed a twitch of movement in his pants. I grinned at the man. Typical.
Still hadn’t said why we were in here. I gave him an eyebrow quirk right back and settled to lean on the shitty metal desk I shared, giving him an open invitation to come into my space more.
“I don’t want anything from you,” he replied after a few long seconds passed.
“Then why are you in here?”
Tension grew between us. It was a nice thing, made my blood hot and my veins thick, and when he met my eyes with his, I bit my lip. The tension wasn’t violent, but it was heavy. It was curious. Different.
It all built, heat between us, air vibrating, a balloon about to pop, a swollen gut bursting intestines everywhere. Bile and dry mouths and hot, soupy tension.
“Why are you here, Darling?” I asked again, goading. He held his fists closed tight, knuckles white, veins prominent as he squeezed.
I thought he was about to tell me; to admit he was just like the rest.
But instead, he huffed and left. He fucking left. Just turned on his heel and walked away, slamming the cell door shut behind him.
And I was hooked. The way he looked at me, he would be a better target than Randal the pussy. Randal didn’t know his ass from his elbow, but CO Darling… I had a feeling he was very competent. And when he set his mind to something, he achieved it.
Just what I needed.
I settled into my bottom bunk, my stomach rumbling from lack of food, and smiled. CO Darling was the better choice to get what I wanted. All men were too easy to manipulate, all one step away from grabbing a woman and fucking her into the ground without her consent - easy to twist up, to play.
CO Darling would make a good plaything. Or so I thought.