Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KACE
ONE MONTH LATER
Over the past month, I’ve been on edge looking over my shoulder and hoping I don’t get caught. The nervous energy that buzzes through me is becoming unbearable, and I’m worried if I don’t talk to someone, I won’t be able to hide it anymore.
As I walk into Stephen’s office, he greets me with his nurse smile. That’s probably problematic to say, but healthcare workers—nurses, therapists, all of them—just have that reserved smile used specifically for patient interactions.
Or maybe it’s just me. Like he knows I’m about to bring him an issue.
Which I am.
I flop down in the chair that sits in front of his desk. “I know I’m not your patient, but can we have some HIPAA talk or whatever y’all call that.”
“You’re not my patient, Wright, and if you’re going to tell me something that could be”—he winks and does the quotations with his fingers—“endangering inmates, then I have to report it. So no… no HIPAA talks because I have a bad feeling I already know what’s going on.”
My eyes have to be the size of saucers because what do you mean he knows without me telling him.
“My advice would be to quit. Immediately. You three are too good to be in here and deserve to live a happy life outside these walls. I told you they were good men when you started, and I think you’re a good guy too. Get out while you can.”
The advice makes me smile, but I still keep my mouth shut for fear that if one thing comes out, I won’t be able to stop.
“A little birdie told me they’re getting out on good behavior very soon. So don’t fuck this up, Wright.”
I don’t know who his “little birdie” is, but I’ve had my suspicions for a few weeks that something might be going on with him and Thomas—the newest therapist at PCI—with all of the meetings Nathan and Colson have been dragged into.
The meetings that I had to stand guard at, instead of getting to be nosy like I wanted.
It was driving me batshit.
Makes sense now.
Walking down cell block 2 and turning to A, my mind floats back to the first time I patrolled this hallway. The bridge of my nose stings, and my throat has that clogged feeling, but I can’t cry in here even if this is my last day. I can’t show weakness around the inmates.
You had your knees to your chest getting your ass pounded…
That was in the cell, though, so I don’t count that.
I get to the last cell at the back of the hall, but I’m met with emptiness. Not the kind of empty that indicates they’ve gone to the gym or something. Everything is gone.
My heart is racing. All I wanted to do was say bye to them before turning in my resignation, but now my mind’s floating to the thought that someone knows. Or maybe another prisoner already reported it and they’ve been placed in solitary confinement.
But all I can do at this point is to get the hell out of dodge.
I knock on the door of my supervisor’s office.
“Come in.”
The poor man sounds miserable. And this is only going to make his day worse. I hand over my resignation letter, and he doesn’t even have to look at the paper to know what it is. “But why? You were becoming our most valued CO.”
“I don’t want this to be the rest of my life. But I appreciate the compliment and the opportunity to work here.”
The sad look on his face almost has me second-guessing my choice, but I can’t handle this any longer. The guys will be getting out soon, and the last thing I want is to be arrested and sentenced to prison before we can actually have a life together.
He questions, “I can’t get at least two weeks?”
“No… my other job has unexpectedly taken off, and I would be dumb not to take this opportunity and run.” I turn to leave his office and immediately return all the gear.
And before I know it, I’m walking out the front doors for the last time.
I’m not paying attention to anything as I walk to my car, head down trying to pull up Picsta and figure out what the hell is going on. At the sound of an obnoxious wolf-whistle, my eyes automatically roll to the back of my head.
I sure as fuck won’t miss this shit.
Until I hear the words that follow.
“Oh, Princessss.”