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Chapter sixteen

Nadia

Present Day

T here are two types of people in the world, those who only need one alarm to wake up, and those who set five. Each with different music, just so they can hear it and hope that they get up in time.

I am the latter.

It’s the third time ‘ Comanche’ by In This Moment has played before I roll over and slap my phone off the nightstand. The hunk of plastic thudding against the floor only to start blaring the next song.

“Ughhhh, shut up! I know, I know!”

While I live alone, and it may seem odd, I talk to my belongings like they have minds of their own. Sometimes, I feel that my phone does, and it mocks me just for fun.

Throwing my blankets back and swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my arms reach high over my head for a long stretch. A few audible pops here and there relieve the tension in my shoulders and upper spine while my bare toes skim the shaggy black rug that I have running down the length of my bed.

It’s five in the morning and I have to be clocked in for shift change at seven. I’m on the day shift this week, and I believe it switches over to night shift tomorrow—which is what I prefer, but I can check the schedule when I get to the prison, lest I am wrong.

Getting up early has never been my forte but the swap allows all the officers to have some sort of life outside of the prison. I don’t have much of one, but I got to see Ivy and Wren last night for a girl's night that ended on a weird note more than anything. Oliver is out of the country on another parental-funded vacation; they still haven’t divorced so Oliver’s steadily milking it for everything it is worth.

Here I am, trying to find the silver lining. It’s somewhere out there.

Dropping back onto my bed, I stare up at the ceiling for a little while longer. I have about ten more minutes before I really need to get up.

Drawing in long, deep breaths, I now how calm I feel lately. Some of the lingering distaste I have for the earlier part of my life is beginning to fade and I don’t quite know why. But I will not start complaining about it; it’s nice not having that ever-present cloud lingering over me anymore.

When my phone starts playing Gojira, I jump and shuffle back to the edge of my bed. Sliding off it, I snatch up my phone and turn off all of my alarms. If I hear them play one more time, I may just throw the thing out my window instead.

Time to get this shit started.

After a short shower and pulling on a crisp uniform, I am out of the apartment and jump into my truck. I think this thing is going to need an oil change soon but that’s neither here nor there. Honestly, I probably need to do several things to it: new tires, deep cleaning, a tune-up. All of which will have to wait though, I need to make some extra cash first.

Sliding the key into the ignition, I crank the old pick-up and pull out of my parking spot, headed in the direction of the prison. The steering wheel slides effortlessly through my grip every time I turn corners, and it automatically straightens up—at least the alignment is good.

I love driving, maybe one day I will go on a road trip.

I have a little time to spare on my way, so I stop by my favorite coffee shop. I snag a cookie butter-flavored Frappuccino–my favorite—and one of their chocolate croissants. My mouth waters at the dueling sweet and savory flavorings. This day doesn’t quite feel like the rest, so I’m going to go into work in a good mood, if it’s the last thing I do. I’m so tired of always being in a shitty tenor. No one is standing in my way except me now. Some days are difficult to get through, but I can keep letting things rule me or I can turn it all around and use that energy for something more, something better.

While waiting in the drive thru, I toy with my phone, scrolling through the messages I have with my dealer. He’s mad that I’m missing a payment for the bag of coke I left on Kace a few weeks ago. I’m going to have to take it out of the commissary funds I relocated. Technically, the coke I s his even if he doesn’t use, and that debt needs to be paid.

Good show of turning over a new leaf, Nadia.

I admit, planting that on him was a shitty thing to do, but that’s what happens when you piss me off. He didn’t have to say that shit to me, bringing up my past like he knows a damn thing about me. He’s just a dick and I’m just a wet hole; no feelings involved. Just pure lust born out of captivity and desperation. And maybe a lot of anger.

Yes, that’s exactly what that was.

He made me feel something out of the ordinary, and part of me is so mad that he wielded my trauma as a weapon after placing a crack in my exterior. So, I planted the drugs and got him sent off to seg for a week, serves him right.

I’ve been down to solitary a handful of times and seen the conditions the inmates live in while they are there. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a whole new attitude—others do when they come out. A part of me hopes he’s learned a valuable lesson while another part likes to think he’s strong enough to deal with the conditions of seg.

Pulling up to the drive-thru window and handing cash over, I take my drink and moan softly when I take a sip, the sweet concoction flooding my mouth.

So damn good.

Back on the road, it’s going to take me about thirty minutes to get to the prison then another ten to get from the parking lot, through the first checkpoint and metal detector before I can get to the locker room. I received a text from Zurita last night saying I have a meeting with the warden at the beginning of my shift.

I wonder what the hell Durden wants. This man is rarely on the premises, let alone wanting to see guards. He usually sits down with my supervisor’s supervisor, two heads above me. So, this is out of the ordinary, and kind of puts me on edge. It makes me wonder if someone, like Zurita, caught on to the shit I was doing with Kace the other day.

God, I hope not.

It’s one thing getting in trouble for fucking in public, but to get caught with an inmate is a whole different issue. That’s a life changing event and not in a good way. That’s my guard license being revoked, that’s sexual assault charges, that’s jail time. My whole damn life would go down the drain.

That said, Kace was right. The worst that could happen to him would be a charge, but that is also the worst that could happen to me.

Fuck.

What the hell was I thinking!?

I wasn’t, that’s for sure, but do I think about much of anything nowadays? I sell drugs in a maximum-security prison and rob inmates. If you were to ask anyone off the street, they’d say I deserve to be locked up right along with the men I guard.

I don’t have much of a life outside either; this is all I know other than living vicariously through my friends. I mean, Ivy is off doing her Instagram-social media-influencer thing, and Wren and Riley moved out of Hazelwood and have started a business together. They’re all in successful relationships too, while I’m over here in a never-ending rut.

Pulling up to the prison, I swoop into an empty parking space and jump out, grabbing my backpack on the way. It’s muggy today. There was a storm that came through last night and it dumped just enough rain to increase the humidity, but not enough to knock the temperature down.

I’ll be glad when fall gets here, this shit is for the birds.

Inside, I drop my backpack on the table for the on-duty guard, Liza, to search as I step through the metal detector with my hands lifted to show that nothing is in them.

“Morning, Nadia, have a good night?” Liza asks.

“Same ol’ same ol’, but I did manage to try that Chinese place you were telling me about. You know the one with the dumplings?”

“Oh, Dumpling Obsessed? Aren’t they so good!?”

“Absolutely, the fried pork ones are to die for. I’ll have to go back, thanks for recommending them to me.”

I love Liza, she has such a good heart. She started off in the ding wing, but got spooked by one of the crazy inmates so instead of letting her get hurt, the administration put her on door duty. Luckily for me, she gets distracted easily and always ends up missing the hidden pocket in the lining of my backpack. I sewed it in when I first started dealing, and it lets me get powder in so I can leave it in my locker versus bringing it in with me every day.

“Here’s your bag, you’re good. Listen, maybe we can go snag some of those dumplings together? I got a brother…”

Oh God, please don’t do this.

“Maybe. I’ll let you know.” I say hastily.

I watch as her face falls. I’ve never cared about hurting another woman's feelings, but I’m glad cutting her off hurt because I’d be damned if she tries to set me up with anyone.

I’m too damaged to have anything healthy with anyone—even if I crave it. Besides, there was a certain inmate that I cannot get out of my head. Even if we are both pissed off at one another and will never have the chance to have something meaningful, Kace still won’t exit stage left and vacate my thoughts.

Speaking of, I need to see him today.

I miss him.

Like normal, I drop my satchel off at my locker and pack a few baggies of blow into my tactical vest, before making my way to the warden’s office. It is down the same hall as the guards' office, so it doesn’t take me too long to get there. Before I left the locker room, however, I checked my appearance. The entirety of my blacked-out correctional officer uniform is pristine and pressed, and my gear is all in place, my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and my headset is on and ready to go. If there was one thing I wasn’t going to get yelled at for, it is my appearance.

Crisp, neat, and clean.

Marching out of the office and down the hall, I stop by Rose's desk and gave her a little greeting. She’s a cunt. Don’t let her fool you with her smile; she reminds me of a secretary in a principal's office and we all know how I feel about those types of people.

I stand to the side as she goes to let the warden know that I am here waiting for him, my hands comfortably sitting at the front of my tactical belt while I look around. A few minutes later, she emerges and gave me a wave.

“He’s ready for you, Pierce.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

Short and simple, like I like it.

Striding up to the partially open door behind her desk, I poke my head in and announce my presence.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Ahh, Officer Pierce, yes. Please join us,” the frumpy man said, clicking the end of his pen and sitting it down on his desk, getting comfortable behind the mahogany. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lean forward onto his elbows, fingers lacing together into one solid fist.

Stepping inside, I close the door behind me and move to one of the seats in front of his desk; the other occupied by a man I do not recognize. He has on a dark grey button-up shirt which is tucked into a pair of black slacks, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing a few tattoos that are peeking out from his biceps. His dark hair is slicked back, but not in a Jersey Shore, overly gelled, kind of way. It was just… meticulous, polished, guarded.

Taking a seat, I look him over while his own deep chocolate-colored eyes stare back at me, assessing one another. Once comfortably seated, I pull my gaze away from him and look at the warden, unsure of what’s going on.

“Nadia, this is Detective Nash Whitlock. Detective Whitlock, Officer Nadia Pierce.”

Okay, what the hell is going on?

“He is from Internal Affairs.”

FUCK.

“Nice to meet you, Nadia,” the detective speaks.

“Likewise. What does Internal Affairs have to do with me, Sir? No disrespect, Detective,” I add, giving him my attention for a moment before looking back toward the warden.

“None taken.”

“The detective is here because there is an ongoing drug issue within this facility, and we received a tip that you might have an idea of what is going on.”

That fucking snitch! I’m going to kill Kace with my bare hands.

“I wouldn’t say I know what is going on, but I have noticed some certain behaviors taking place.”

Liar.

I can feel my blood pressure rising, and if I don’t know any better, I’d say that my face and ears are pink from being put on the spot like this—the fact I’m the dealer is irrelevant at this point. He’s here for me, even if I haven’t dropped to my knees to confess and beg for forgiveness.

Looking at the warden, I attempt to keep my body and position relaxed so as not to raise suspicion. They likely already think that I play a major role in the distribution, or they’d never call me in here. They woulda had a meeting with the entire group of officers, trying to see who was uneasy enough to crack under the pressure.

My eyes flick over to the detective, his own dark gaze staring at me like he can see straight through me like a pane of glass. We hold eye contact for almost too long until he leans to the left and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small notepad and a pen. Proceeding to jot down a few notes and not bothering to look at me again as the warden flies into my impromptu interrogation.

“And what is it that you know, Officer Pierce? The Detective is a busy man; he doesn’t have all day.”

“Clearly,” I mutter, the warden scowling at my reply.

“I’ve had my eyes on a few of the AB members here. Nate mostly, he has been trying to recruit heavily for the AB.”

“What does that have to do with moving cocaine through the prison, Officer?” Detective Whitlock asks.

“I don’t know how versed you are with the prison population, but the AB, at least in Darkwater, likes to rape new inmates, and I will give you one guess on what hole they use,” I snap.

He finally looks back to me, his brows pinching together in the middle, unimpressed with the snark I was laying on thick. I just know this guy is going to be a problem.

“He targets new inmates. They’re an easy means of importing blow, Detective. Moving on, I think they’re mules, especially the ones that come in a few at a time and end up in the AB ranks.”

“You think we’re going to buy that, Nadia?” the warden huffs, rolling his eyes as he leans back in his chair.

“Honestly, I don’t give a damn what you buy. It’s the truth. Look at the inmates when you walk into gen pop. Most of the users are white, and we know the AB wouldn’t deal with other races.”

“Have you seen this with your own eyes, Officer?” Whitlock inquires.

“The raping or the dealing?”

“Either or.”

“No to both. You can certainly talk to the inmates about the raping, but I don’t think they’re going to talk to a pig.”

“Pierce!” the warden shouts.

“I don’t take offense to it, Warden. She’s fine.”

You know, if you would have told me when I was in my guard training, that I would pop off to a real police officer like this one day, I might have balked and called you a liar, but here I am. I sound like the inmates. They don’t trust the guards, and the guards don’t trust anyone outside of these walls.

It’s a delicate ecosystem.

“Do you have anything else to add, Nadia?”

“No, Warden, I do not.”

“Very well. Detective, do you have any more questions? Nadia needs to get to her patrols.”

“No. I will be in touch.”

“Nadia, you’re dismissed.”

Shoving out of the chair, I make my way to the door. I need to get the hell out of here. I had high hopes for today, thinking it was going to be a good one but now I have a blond inmate I need to harass.

If he thinks seg was bad last time, he’s going to hate the time he’s going to spend down there now.

It took several hours before I could get out of rotation long enough to hunt Kace down. The new inmates that were brought in over the past couple of days are failing to thrive; terrible for them but it keeps the population manageable.

I’m back on my shit today, fuck them all.

After escorting the last few to wherever they need to go, I finally get my chance to break away. If I know that asshole like I think I do, he’s either going to be in the library or in his cell— making it easier for me to find him. The rest of the inmates are out in the rec yard, at their job assignments, or off doing God knows what. Ronald, Kace’s cell mate, for example, has an off-site medical visit today—I was sure to check his record before setting out on my warpath—freeing up the cell for Kace to lounge in like some lazy house cat.

Sliding into C Block, I saunter along the corridor, peering into every cell until I make it to Kace’s. Lo and behold, there he is. Kicked back with his ankles crossed, lost in a book like he hasn’t a single care in the world, like he isn’t in fucking prison.

Leaning against the opening to his cell, I cross my arms and watch him, but the longer I do, the more impatient I become. When I’ve had enough, and still haven’t captured his attention, I stride over. Putting my foot on the metal frame of Ronald's bunk, I push myself up. Quickly reaching over, I snatch the book Kace is reading out of his hand and throw it right out the cell door where it goes sliding across the floor.

“What the…” Kace snaps.

The chill that runs up my spine when his angry blue eyes meet my silver ones can freeze the mimetic polyalloy from Terminator 2.

God, this fucker’s beautiful.

“Exactly, what the fuck, Patton,” I spout.

“Why the hell are you in here, Nadia?”

“I’ll give you one guess, if you get it wrong, you’re going to scrub the entire C Block shower with a toothbrush.”

“Not playing your bullshit games, tell me what the fuck you’re doing here or walk your ass right out of that cell door.”

“What if I don’t? What will you do, Kace? Tell the Warden I’m dealing again? Why don’t you just go ahead and tell him we fucked too.”

“Keep your fucking voice down you damn brat!”

Ooooohhh, he’s mad- mad.

Kace shifts across his bunk to the edge, sliding off the top of it and jumping down. His shower slides slapp softly against the concrete floor as he lands right in front of me. Towering as usual, he glares down at me, his hands twitching.

“You deserved that. You sent me to seg over your drugs, so now you’re going to get yours. Call it returning the favor.”

“I thought he called me in there to tell me he found out about us, Kace! That’s a charge for me, even if you instigated it.”

“I didn’t instigate shit.”

“You’re starting to piss me off. IA was there, Detective Whitney or something like that.”

“And I care why?”

What a dick!

Even if he told the warden everything about us, he wouldn’t get reprimanded at all. He is already serving a life sentence, so what did it matter to him? It’s my life that will be ruined. With that in mind, I grin. I know exactly how to make this worse for him.

“I’m going to tell the AB you’re a narc.”