Chapter 4
Four
CO Darling kept himself out of my way for a week. I didn’t see him, not even in the shadows or in passing in the halls when I was being herded about.
He was like a ghost. But I daredn’t ask anyone where he was. Maybe his work schedule had shifted; maybe he’d requested to be moved away from me.
But I was getting restless for more from him, from anyone. My skin itched, and my mind had too much time in that calm space, when nothing was going wrong, when monotony was eating at my neurons.
Randal wasn’t pestering me anymore either, so any form of entertainment had dried up. Mandy was being cool, focusing on her little gang rather than our old feud, and prison life was just chugging along.
I hated it.
My mother often told me I had the devil’s idle hands.
She meant it in a kind way, because I always had to be occupied, and if I wasn’t busy doing something good, my hands wandered to the bad.
She tried, filling my time with crocheting or baking, sending me off to soccer practice or making me join the swim team.
None of it worked to fulfill the itch in me.
Even if I battled it, made myself sick with it, the devil’s hands clung on.
Like now. Even though I was playing a game of cards with a group, it wasn’t holding my attention at all, and my mind was drifting. The women in the game were getting pissed with me for falling behind, losing focus, messing up the rules.
After yet another round of tuts coming my way, I’d had enough.
“Hey, Mandy!” I yelled across the yard, having to raise my voice to beat through the wind whipping through. There was a storm rolling in, wind and rain pelting us in our heavy beige coats. The wildness of the weather fed my soul, setting everything on edge.
Mandy ignored me, or didn’t hear me, sitting there looking a little bored too, while one of her buddies, a slight woman with short cropped hair and the melty meth face I hated to see, waffled on about something or other.
That wouldn’t do.
I twitched. Itched. Both. Stood up. “Mandy!” I shouted again and still, nothing. Nuh uh.
My hips twisted, I began to stand, when my eyes snagged on Darling.
He was here today. He was back. Where had he gone?
He was positioned on the other side of the yard, manning the fence between us and the other, less worrisome, groups.
We needed to be kept apart from them because they had lesser crimes and shorter sentences, and we liked to mess with them.
I froze, watching CO Darling stride up and down, giving me a passing view of his round ass or his muscled front with each go round. And not once, not once did he look at me.
He ignored me. Mandy ignored me. Or didn’t hear me.
So I hopped up, slammed my hand over the playing cards and said, “Better luck next time, folks.” Before sauntering off, casual as anything, one of the cards twisted up in my palm.
Mandy still thought she had the upper hand on me for that shit in the mess hall a few weeks ago, sitting there lording it over her little group. I hated it. Hated everything about her for riling me up and now ignoring me. Both of them.
I felt Darling’s eyes on me as I moved across the concrete yard, not even bothering to be subtle. I moved fast, determined. This was for me, but a little bit for him, too. I wasn’t stupid enough to deny that, even as my stomach rolled with anticipation.
I wanted him to look at me. See me. Want me. Only then could I—
Mandy, if rumors were to be believed, was in here after drunk driving and drug running, a nice slew of things that all built up to the shit show of a person who wasn’t getting out of here any time soon.
Like me, then. All of us in here murderers, for the most part. Intentional or not, they liked to group us together so we only hurt each other. My eyes darted to those on the other side of the wire fence, protected by Darling, petty crimes, less than a year old sentences.
They never looked back through the fence.
I reached Mandy and her friends, and before any of them could react, I yanked her red hair back and shoved the playing card down her shrieking throat.
My fingers squeezed into her mouth as she gagged and squirmed, desperately trying to fight me off, but I just pushed the card in harder, trying to jam the whole fucking thing in her throat before she could take another gasp of air.
I’d never killed a woman before, but in here was slim pickings and my heart hurt with the need to do something, to itch my skin. And dying with your breath constricted — that was the worst way to go.
“Swallow, bitch!” I shouted with a cackle, climbing onto her when fingers grasped at me to push me away.
Mandy was turning purple, her eyes bulging, but I didn’t let her hands free, not even when some asshole pulled a fistful of my hair back, making my scalp strain and my eyes water, my stomach heated, angry and churning.
I kept going. Always did. I locked in like a snake coiling around Mandy’s flailing body, fingers in her mouth, stretching her jaw.
She had all these people close by, and hardly any of them were taking me on, all her friends backing up, getting distance, apart from whoever had my hair.
I laughed again when Mandy wiggled one hand free, her claws coming up to attack my face, deep sharp nails digging into my cheek as I pushed and held on.
Blood poured right away, coating my lips, dripping from my chin, but I didn’t try to get myself free; I just jammed my fingers into her mouth deeper. The capillaries in her eyes burst, and the sound she made was fucking immense, like a choking, gagging wheeze.
Nothing was getting through to me, until warm, thick arms banded around me and heaved me away. My fingers freed from her mouth as I tried to curl into her teeth and yank a few out.
“Get the fuck off me!” I shrieked, fighting against whoever the hell had me. They were male. Sturdy and bigger than me. Strong, big and tall — he held me with my feet off the ground, and his breathing was steady like it was no hardship at all.
The intensity within me shifted from anger to panic, and I tried to fight him off.
“Calm down, inmate,” Darling’s voice growled in my ear as I started losing myself even more.
No. Even though it was him, even though I had his attention. No. Not like this.
Using my feet, I slammed into his shins, hammering at them and twisting my arms behind me to fight back at him.
He couldn’t hold me like this. No one could hold me like this, not a man. Definitely not a man. I battled, wishing I had more cards I could shove into his unmentionable places instead of down Mandy’s throat.
With annoying ease, he fought with me, managing to get an arm around mine again, pinning my elbows to my waist. I saw red, nothing else, and after a beat, let my body weight drop. As I slid down his front, surprising him with the move, I sank my teeth into his arm. Hard.
“Fuck!” he barked when I broke his skin, blood dripping down my chin, mixing with my own. God, it was delicious. Not the metallic twang of it, but that it was his lifeblood, the stuff keeping his heart beating, coating my teeth. He was human. Bleedable.
I bit down harder as he yelled, wanting more of it — his pain, his life, his attention — until he released me.
I dropped all the way to the floor with a limb bending crash, then scrambled to stand, holding my hands out in front of me like I had a weapon.
My heart raced in my chest, my stomach squeezed.
But inside? Everything was calming down. Gentle.
CO Darling glared at me, blood dripping down his arm, soaking his gray shirt. The other COs were circling, some crowd handling, some coming for me.
I looked at all of them, all for me, and grinned. I must have seemed wicked, red coated teeth, hair a mess and clothes askew.
But when I met Darling’s eyes, expecting horror, anger or something worse, I was shocked. It wasn’t any of those things. He seemed pleased. Just for a second, something flickered over his eyes. A kindred kind of glimmer that made me pause.
Then I was on the floor, a knee at my back and hands squeezing into cable ties.
Fun over.