Chapter Thirteen
ELIJAH
F ighting with Tiny had landed me in the infirmary overnight while they kept me under observation. They tried to tell me it was standard, in case of concussion, but I knew they were waiting to see if I’d lost my shit and was about to attack other inmates randomly.
Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.
With the top of the bed raised, I lay back, only wearing a pair of bottoms, dozing for a while as I waited for a shower and to be discharged back into my cellblock. My torso is covered in some pretty colorful bruises, shades of deep purple, yellow, and black mixed with smears of blood caking on my skin. Feeling achy and tender was nothing new, and in fact, I welcomed the pain. It reminded me just who I am.
Someone approaches my cubicle, pulling back the curtain quietly. My skin bursts into a million little prickles as someone looks over my exposed flesh freely. Even with my eyes closed, I can tell it’s her.
“Enjoying yourself there, Bishop?” I chuckle, wincing a little as I move too much.
“You cut your hair.” Cracking open one of my eyes, I watch as she blushes, the skin on her cheeks tinged a soft pink, which spreads quickly. I smile, pleased that she likes what she sees.
Nurse Rancet lingers behind Ava, watching us both out of the corner of her eye as she tries to appear as if she’s engrossed in her paperwork. Houdini was right, she was very handsy and used every opportunity she could to touch me. If I’d shown her an ounce of interest, I have no doubt she’d be on her knees sucking my dick before I’d even blinked. But it’s not her I want.
Instead, I want the prison officer who looks like she’s been caught with her hands in the cookie jar, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other. I can’t imagine she’s spent much time in the infirmary before. It hasn’t escaped my attention that they tend to give her light duties and keep her away from dangerous situations…probably some strange courtesy to her father.
“Creed, I’ll grab some forms for you to sign but there’s not much else I can do here,” Jacob Meredith, the prison doctor, says in a serious voice as he dismisses Nurse Rancet from the room.
While I thought we didn’t have anyone planted inside Ogmore Grange, coincidence placed Jacob in my path, ready to stitch up my wounds. Jacob wasn’t directly Family but his niece was married to Carlo, one of our newer Captains and it didn’t matter how tenuous the ties, we were still bound together.
I return his frown with a smile, patting his arm. “That’s fine Jacob, you patched me up-what more do I need?”
“Elijah…” the doctor starts, but I nod towards Ava, and Jacob’s mouth snaps shut as if it’s the first time he’s noticed the woman standing at my bedside.
Her eyebrows pull together, and she gets this adorable little scrunch to her nose as her gaze ping pongs between us. As Jacob returns to his office, I know she’s wondering what connections I have, or whether I may be forcing him into something sinister. Her thoughts are written on her face and she’s broadcasting them, loud and clear.
Swallowing down a chuckle, I raise my brow in a silent challenge. She doesn’t flinch. Hazel eyes locked with mine as I slowly turn and stretch out, getting to my feet. Stepping closer to her, she looks up at me as I crowd her and her lips part on a small exhale.
“I believe I asked you a question earlier Bishop.” I dip my face lower so that my lips are almost brushing against hers. “Are you enjoying the view?”
She could lie. In fact, she probably should. But she doesn’t.
“Yes,” she breathes, and I can’t help the way the corner of my mouth lifts into a wide grin. She lifts her hand, fingertips dancing over my chest, but not making contact. “You look like a painting.”
“I see...” Cupping her face, I run my thumb over her bottom lip. She stares up into my eyes like she’s transfixed, hypnotized by my touch. She exudes this innocence, edged with something sharper. Something that makes me want to break her, only to build her back up again, because I know she could handle it.
It’s so very fucking dangerous to be this close to her. She smells like cherry blossoms and rain, a light airy mixture that seems to go to my head as I forget just how many people exist on the other side of the curtain.
I had planned to seduce her, to own her completely—body and soul, and given the way she’d kept me at arm's length every time we talked, I expected heavy resistance. Not this.
“Why are you here, Ava?” I murmur.
The woman was almost panting at my feet, her lips parted, eyes glassy as she unconsciously leans closer, body almost swaying into mine. I hadn’t expected it to be so easy.
I keep repeating her name deliberately, reinforcing the fact that I know exactly who she is. Thanks to Cato sending me across the information I requested, I knew a great deal about Ava Bishop and her life outside these walls.
Whispering her name has the added bonus of making her shiver a little every time I say it, and I like that. My hand moves down, and I wrap it around her neck, giving a gentle squeeze. We stand, looking at one another. Connected on a whole other level. Up this close I can make out constellations in her freckles and pick out the flecks of green and blue in her hazel eyes.
Slowly, she turns her head away from me, stepping backwards, breaking all contact, and I hate it.
“A spot has opened up in the art workshop if you want it,” she mumbles, her voice still breathy, as if I’d done more than just touch her mouth or her neck. Oh, this was going to be so much fun. She was so responsive, so needy.
“Of course I want it.” I smirk down at her. It was what I wanted all along. It was the reason I was standing in the infirmary, looking like a giant bruise.
Everything was going according to plan.
She falters slightly and I can see the doubt creeping in as the cogs turn inside her head and her horny brain reboots. Narrowing her eyes, she looks at me cautiously. “Why?”
I laugh, debating whether honesty or a lie would soothe her more. Everything was a tactical decision when you were the Left Hand, there was no room for error because that meant failure and failure could mean death. Granted, the stakes here weren’t life or death, but they were important. I wanted her, and I would stop at nothing until she was mine.
Settling for somewhere between truth and flattery, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Because since I first saw you, all I’ve wanted was to be in that class.”
The moment I saw her, on my first day at Ogmore Grange, I knew there was something between us. I’d glimpsed her when they’d led me to my cell after processing.
My eyes had latched onto the petite woman, wearing an ugly guard uniform, standing at the front of a classroom delivering a workshop. She’d had a smudge of blue paint on her cheek and a look of exasperation on her face as she’d tried to reign in the class. She was a tasty morsel in a filthy pig pen.
I remember thinking that she must taste like sunshine and sweetness, because she seemed the type. She was in Ogmore because she wanted to be. My initial assessment has changed little, except for the sweetness. When I close my eyes and think of her now, the flavor is deeper, more decadent.
My dick twitches as she finally breaks eye contact, the rose blush returning to her cheeks. There’s something about making others uncomfortable that gets me off, just a little. I like to see the fear in their eyes, their mind ticking away trying to find an escape route, only to realize there isn’t one. I am every inch the apex predator.
And she was all prey.
My pretty little white rabbit.
“Make no mistake Ava, I’m going to slather every inch of that body in paint and fuck you on the desk. It’s only a matter of how long you make me wait…” I say against the shell of her ear, my lips brushing against the sensitive skin.
Curiosity flits across her features. She’s imagining us, thinking about me and wondering if I’m worth the risk. I’m not—I’ll ruin her life, but I need her to think that I am. I need to possess her.
A door closes somewhere behind us and she steps back as if my words have scorched her. The real world, the prison we’re both in, is encroaching on our moment and ruining the electric charge in the air.
“Take a few days to rest. Join us next Thursday at 10 am.” I expect her voice to be shaky, trembling with need, but instead it’s soft as she reminds us both that she’s the one with the authority here. “And Creed, don’t underestimate me.”
I chuckle. I was underestimating her, thinking I had her in the palm of my hand, but she knew. She was aware of my manipulations and she'd been playing along. That just made the hunt even more interesting.
Jacob returns moments after she leaves with the forms, basically absolving the prison of any responsibilities for my injuries. I sign them, saying nothing as I stand there, thinking about Ava Bishop. What was going on inside that pretty head? Why wasn’t she more afraid of me? She’d seen my scars, the marks on my skin and yet she’d looked angry where others had looked at me with pity, that is until they realized who I was.
“Creed…”
“Jacob,” I say firmly, knowing he’s worrying about me when there’s no need. “Let Jules know everything is fine.”
He nods, his famous frown back as his mouth is pulled into a straight line. Jacob glances over to where Officer Bishop is standing outside, talking to another guard, and concern washes over him yet again.
The doctor says nothing. He knows his place, and is doing as he’s told. Jules’ reach as the head of The Family is much further than the authorities suspect, so while I am in here alone, I’m not defenseless or powerless.
I watch as Ava Bishop finally disappears from sight. It seems I may need to adjust my approach when it comes to her.
There’s a gleam in her eyes when she looks at me and it’s clear she wants me, but I doubt she understands why. She probably tells herself that she’s just curious in a professional capacity as she pours over my file. I wonder if she’s got pictures of me in her apartment, maybe in her workspace?
Lies. Half-truths she tells herself so that she can hide away from the raw honesty of the matter.
She wants me.
Wants me to fuck her.
To own her.
To drive her wild.
The uniform she wears is a farce, nothing but a game of dress-up as she hides behind the role of a prison officer. Underneath it all, she’s hungry for me. Desperate to break free from the prison of her life. Clawing her way out. She’s not so different from me after all.