Page 21

Chapter nineteen

Kace

Present Day

L ike the first time we fooled around, we go a week or so without speaking. I don’t know if I should be thankful that this is becoming a pattern for us, or not. On one hand, it’s nice to detach from the intensity and consuming nature of whatever is brewing. Yet, on the other, I want to yank her back to me because I feel like she is getting too far away. If I let her continue to do that, she may turn on me and bite the hand that—well, I don’t feed her anything besides my cock, but you know how the saying goes.

I will say, however, that the longer she steers clear of me, the more I wonder about what happened to her, and that’s where I am at now. I’m bound and determined to learn more about Nadia. We may have exchanged entirely too many glances over the past few years, and entered into many heated exchanges, but she’s mine now, and though, I cannot provide for her in a normal sense. I can give her something someone else took from her—safety. Well, as much as I can, being bound to the restrictions of prison.

Like a glutton for punishment, though, I need to talk to her. I have nothing to say, but hearing her voice would be nice after not getting to put up with her bullshit for the past week.

Stepping up to the guard booth, I knock on the thick glass window to get her attention. She’s inside typing away on the computer, I assume she is putting together a report for an incident earlier today—something about the homies jumping one of the kinfolk. Not any of my business.

When she snaps her head up at me, those once bright silver eyes, now hallowed out by the darkness of this prison, glare up at me. I watch as she shoves the keyboard away and steps around the desk to the door and unlocks it. Her right hand instinctively dropping to her baton before wrenching the heavy metal door open.

If we ever have a zombie apocalypse, she would be safe in her little panic room.

“What do you want, inmate?”

“Just to see your pretty face, of course.”

“That doesn’t entail talking. You can look through the glass like all the others. So, what do you really want?”

“Damn, give me some credit, your highness. I came to talk to you, that’s all. Can you escort me to the rec yard, or do I need to fight someone first before you come out of your hole?”

“Kace, do not fucking test me today. I don’t have the patience to deal with anything, let alone the animosity between us.”

She thinks there is animosity? That’s far from the truth. I might have been relatively harsh on her last time we were together, but she earned that by getting me sent to seg. I was only returning the favor.

“Your voice sounds normal. I take it you followed my instructions on how to care for your throat?” I ask lowly, not wanting other inmates to eavesdrop. My mouth curling into a slight smirk as I arch a light-colored brow.

She went still; her mouth snapping shut. She looks like she wants to pop off and say something, but she knows better now. With her eyes raking over me, from head to toe and back up, she shakes her head and proceeds to ignore my question.

“Let me finish up this report and I’ll go with you.”

“Yes ma’am.” I say, my smirk growing.

Leaving her be, I sit down at one of the tables. Matias is playing cards with a few of the guys he spends a majority of his time with. About three tables down to my right. He’s kicking their ass; the man is good at what he does and entertaining as hell too. You can tell he was the class clown in school.

To the left, one of the new kids is hold up with a pencil and a piece of paper, maybe writing home to whoever he is thinking of—instead of using the phone like normal people. The prison has landlines that are set up like pay phones, which I am sure most people have no clue how to use. If you don’t have money on your books, you can call ‘collect’ and get the person on the other end of the phone to foot the bill.

There are the visual phones, too, which is kind of like sitting in visitation and talking through a handset and a glass window. Then, of course, there are burner phones that you can get a hold of while in gen pop. They typically come with payments that you don’t really want to make. Such as finding drugs for the person who is currently hiding the phone, sexual favors for others, and then other things such as cigarettes. It is all dependent upon what that person wants, and if you can talk them into passing the phone on.

After about a week or two of the phone circulating, it’s pulled, damaged, and replaced when a new shipment comes into the prison. Which solidifies my suspicion regarding guards here who are peddling, but I only care about one of them.

Yeah, I care about her. I probably always have, to a degree, but I’m not afraid to admit that shit now.

It takes a little bit for her to finish up, but she eventually does and approaches my table. I can feel her before I see or hear her, like my body is attuned to my cruel sentry. There are worse things, I tell you. Feeling your woman without the need for words is definitely not terrible.

While I haven’t entirely decimated her yet, I want to. I don’t want her to walk this planet thinking there isn’t, at minimum, one person that is completely infatuated with her. She has the pull of a black hole, and I can feel her drawing in every ounce of my being.

“Let’s go, inmate,” Nadia calls out.

Slapping my hand on the table, like Matias does, I push away from my seat and walk over to her. I was half expecting her to put me in some sort of restraint, but she doesn’t—we’re making progress.

Making me proud, baby girl. If only you knew.

At some point over the past few years, she changed her shampoo to something equally girly, pomegranate or some shit. Today, however, she smells like she did when I first met her—citrus and honey. I’m not saying that she ever smelt bad; no, nothing like that. She’s just rekindling a lot of memories that I have since pushed down. Especially the ones where she turned on me and started acting like a fucking terrorist.

Walking in front of her, I lead the both of us towards the rec yard. Inmates we pass thinking nothing of it as they move out of the way like Nadia was parting the Red Sea or something equally biblical. It’s wild to think she has that sort of power here, but when you have the things inmates want, they’re more likely to respect you out of fear. Losing their plug is detrimental in their eyes, and as shameful as it may be, Nadia is good at running. She’s good at everything she does.

Pushing the door open, I hold it open for her to walk through then head to the far right. There were a set of benches bolted down to the concrete that we can sit at. The summer is finally starting to give way to the fall—a slight chill in the air—so it makes it nicer to sit out here, especially for what I have planned.

I want her to open up to me, I need her to. I want to know everything about this woman, and I have more than enough time on my hands to crack her wide open.

Facing one way on the bench, Nadia sits down and faces the other, like were watching each other’s back out here. I suppose, in a way, we were.

“What do you want, Kace?” she starts off, not one to beat around the bush.

She’s so impatient.

“Remember the other day where I gave you two options, and you took the latter? Well, there was a third, but I figured it would be best to discuss it when I wasn’t ready to break you.”

“You going to tell me what the hell it was or continue being vague?”

“I want you to open up to me. Tell me what the fuck happened to you that has you so uptight and… vengeful.”

“Fat chance, Kace.”

She goes to push up, but I quickly turn, and grab her wrist, yanking her back down to the bench.

“Don’t do that shit, Nadia. It’s time to talk. Tell me. I’ve watched you for years. I know there’s something there, I can see it when we are together, and the only way I can be safe with you is knowing what to avoid.”

I didn’t want to come into this so strong, I wanted to give her the time and space to talk about it without pressure, but the damn brat always wants to do things the hard way—her way. Fine by me, as long as it gets done.

This time, Nadia allows the weight of the oncoming conversation to press down on the both of us. I know it wasn’t something savory and she knows I won’t give up. I need to know. If I am going to figure anything out for the two of us, it is imperative she trusts me.

“I’m not special, Kace. Things happen to people all the time,” she starts, pulling her wrist from my hold and sitting back down.

“I understand that, but to some people you are special, and you deserve to be heard. So, out with it.”

“You’re a dickhead, you know that?”

“Don’t fucking deflect.”

God, getting her to do anything besides bullying me is like pulling teeth.

She grits her molars; I can see her jaw flex out of the corner of my eye as well as watch her arms lift and cross over her chest–very defensive like—but she eventually relents.

“My mom abandoned me when I was little, left my dad to raise me. He raised me to be a hard ass from the get-go which ended with me getting in a lot of trouble when I was a teenager. Mostly fights—standing up for those who were bullied.”

“You? Really? Queen Darkwater inmate Punisher over here?”

“You want me to talk to you or not? If you’re going to be a sarcastic prick, I can cuff you here and leave.”

That makes me smile. I—dare I say it—love when she gets snappy. Makes defiling her mouth later worth it.

“My apologies, please continue.” I yield.

“Like I said, he was hard on me. In school, I started getting sexually assaulted by my school principal. He never fucked me, but he would be rough when forcing me to suck his dick.”

I nearly choke on the guilt that runs through me at that admission. I can’t stop myself from turning to look at her rather than just viewing her in my peripherals.

“Nadia… why…”

“Don’t, don’t do that Kace. I… I didn’t feel like I had a choice in the matter when I was younger. It was take it or be kicked out of school. He would have told my dad everything I had done, and dealing with my dad was worse, in my opinion.”

“What the fuck do you mean he was worse?”

“Well, he didn’t violate me at all, if that’s what you’re thinking, but the emotional and mental abuse existed. I always fought to do things to make him proud. Make him happy for having me but that wasn’t the case. He blamed me for my mom running off, and when you’re abandoned and the other parent blames you, it’s hard to get past that. It fueled a lot of hatred.”

Nadia goes quiet after that, like she was trying to keep herself from becoming too emotional, and as proud of her as I am for being so strong, I want to console her too. She will probably bite me if I do anything of the sort right now.

“The principal ended up ripping my tonsils and I bit his dick off. His wife divorced him after finding out he was assaulting a student, but I never pressed charges or anything. People don’t listen in the town I come from. I had a good year or two after that, spending most of my time with my friends until graduation and the night he hit me.”

She continued.

“He slapped me around, nothing major. Then forced me to get a job after one of my friends was killed in a car accident. I worked to get away from him, but he would take the money I made, and that was before he started blaming me for being a whore. His coworkers would come into my job and flirt with me then tell him. When he finally accused me of fucking one of them, I did to spite him. He already took my cash like he was a pimp, might as well get railed like I was owned by one.”

The way she shrugs like what happened to her meant absolutely nothing grates my nerves.

I have nothing to say. I mean, what do you say in instances like this? ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t seem to cut it. Though I can never understand her pain or the shit she went through, I hurt for her. I know she told me not to go where my brain automatically wanted, but it was hard not to.

I did to her what her attacker has and that makes me want to puke. I may not have hurt her the way he did, but I did take advantage of her mouth. Fuck, I handcuffed her where she couldn’t fight back.

Sitting there, I thought over the entire moment we shared. From restraining her, to pushing her all the way down my length until she gagged on me. While I know I gave her the means to communicate and tell me to stop, I couldn’t help feeling guilty.

“I may not be a mind reader, Kace, but I know what you’re thinking. I enjoyed what I had, have, with you. Even if the first time we were together you royally pissed me off and you were punished for it, I… like being with you. You’re the first man I’ve been with who makes me feel liberated versus used just to get back at someone else.”

“Then will you let me apologize, please? Had I known, I wouldn’t have done that without speaking with you first. I’m not them and I don’t want you to think that I’m using you in that same way. I—“

I come to a stop before saying more, unsure how to truly add to the conversation without sounding like a prick, but if I know her, and how strong she is, I don’t think she will take it badly.

“I do want to use you but in a manner that you consent to. I want to fill you and feel you. I want to taste you. To hear the sounds you make and see you unravel because of me—but I don’t ever want to violate you.”

Fact of the matter is this, she has started to consume my thoughts in ways I never thought she ever would. I find myself thinking more of her than the reason I was in prison in the first place. Or how my days are numbered, and I will die within these walls as an old man. Then there’s the inappropriate aspect of whatever we have going on. It’s thrilling and gives me one hell of a rush knowing I have the power to destroy what she has built for herself. I doubt I will ever have the stomach to do something like that, but it does make the sex astronomical.

Leaning, I reach my arms back to prop myself up, the hard bench now digging into the palms of my hands. I look around before closing my eyes and let what little bit of summer sun we have left blanket my features. Marinating in the warmth and vitamin D while sitting next to the only person I’ve felt drawn to in all of my years.

The longer we sit there, the more I want to know. So, being the nosy fucker I am, I started rapid firing off questions.

“How old are you, Nadia? Do you have siblings? Do you do anything outside of here that brings you joy, like Nurse Cindy? I could listen to you talk all day, by the way.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she smiled which only draws more of my attention to her. When I look, our eyes meet because she was already staring at me.

“I’m 28. No siblings that I know of. It was just dad and I. As for what I do outside of here, I have a few friends that I hang out with, but that’s few and far between. I usually just go home. I like being in my space away from people.”

“You like being alone?” I ask, arching a brow.

“Not alone, but in peace, you know what I mean? My apartment is the only place where I can be whoever I want. People focus on who they have to be, the things they must accomplish in life, but me? I’d rather exist. I want to live life day-by-day and just, I don’t know— be? Does that make sense?”

“I can understand that. In a way, that’s what you get in prison. You are just a name and number on a piece of paper to the rest of the world, but there’s peace in it all. Even if that peace comes with one hell of a price.”

“I never thought of prison that way.”

“Believe it or not, not all of us are terrible. I’m here because of a mistake I made and a pissed off governor. I didn’t go out of my way to harm anyone. There are others who were just trying to keep their families safe. Others who were struggling to feed their children and wound up doing something that only broke laws. A lot of them have never physically harmed someone yet they still landed here. Justice isn’t true justice in this country, Nadia.”

“I understand—I think.”

“That’s where it starts.”

Giving her a brief smile of my own, my eyes drop to her mouth before pulling away and facing out across the rec yard again.

She doesn’t realize the light she has brought to my life, albeit a dark light sometimes, but still illuminating, nonetheless.

“I have a sister. My dad left us when we were little, and I’m 39, since we are sharing.”

“Cradle robber.”

“Grave digger.”

We both laugh then, and fuck if my chest doesn’t hurt hearing that sound. I don’t think I have ever truly heard her laugh before. I knew I was a goner already, but dammit.

Leaning up and coming to a stand, I look down at her, her silver eyes almost doe-like in the way she peered up at me through her lashes. That glance alone sends a wave of warmth through me. I could do this—prison life beyond the seven years I have already been here—as long as I get to see that look on her beautiful face once more.

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

“Get up, Officer Pierce. It’s time to go back in.”

She scrambles up almost as if she were excited to get out of the sun and back inside. Coming around the bench, I make my way back towards the door but detour after passing all of the gym equipment. It looks like chow’s coming soon with how vacant the yard is becoming, which is good for me.

Reaching the end of the fence line, I betray the entire inmate community when I push the chain links out of the way and direct her through the metal webbing. The man-sized hole leads to an area that we all know isn’t covered by cameras nor has a guard patrolling.

I needed to be alone with her, even if it was just for a moment.

Coming to the spot where inmates stand to use the burner, I grab the front of her tactical vest with both hands and yank her to me. Her own reaching out to catch herself out of instinct. Those palms and fingers press into my body through the orange fabric of my jumper.

Staring down at her mouth, I lean in and brush my lips against hers. Choosing to be gentle with her this go around. She’s always been treated harshly, and while she found me safe enough to open up to, I need her to see that I only want to please her.

I am her prisoner, in body and in heart.