I let it ring out, dread unfurling in my stomach. I’d forgotten about that.
Noah
“I’ve been watching you,” a voice grates from beside me. It’s an emotionless voice. Calculated. Cunning. I know the type and I know who it is. Because I’m everything he is.
He’s been studying me since he came in. Out of everyone he attracted my instant attention because it was like seeing a version of me in the future. His eyes were what you would call soulless, frozen pools with dead calm murky waters lurking below.
His fighter’s body was littered with tattoo’s and scars. His eyes assessing and dismissing everyone but me. For three hours so far, he’s been reading me. No one in their right mind would tease this guy, I want that, a life of people avoiding me. Except for her, of course.
I don’t reply to his statement. I think of Avalon’s bikini in my hand, whatever comes at me I will survive it... if she is on my side.
“You remind me of me in my younger days,” he drawls, leaning back making himself comfortable on the hard bench. “I’m only offering my help because of that fact.”
I stare ahead. Thinking of her pressed against me. Her softness, her smell.
“You’re going in, aren’t you, mate?” he presses. I close my eyes for a second to picture Avalon’s cheeky grin.
“I need a man on the inside, if you choose to be it, you’ll walk straight into protection. No one will mess with you. Think about it, son,” he doesn’t touch me, he just stands up and moves to the opposite side of the cell. Leaning against the wall, he closes his eyes. His posture radiates danger.
He’s giving me time to think about his offer. I’ll be going in, I can’t afford a lawyer, I wouldn’t talk to one even if I could. I’ve heard of what a man on the inside is expected to do. I know what it’s like not to have a gang for protection. In that way it’s tempting because terrible stuff can happen in prison... but if I take that easy path, there’s a good chance I’ll never leave that life. I’ll always be ‘called’ upon. I’ll spend half of my life in there.
“Noah Reed,” an officer is waiting at the cell door, a clipboard in his hand.
I stand.
We go through the whole rigmarole, the officer is glad I don’t talk, just accept. I don’t bother listening to the terms of the bail, all I hear is that I will be in here over the weekend. My court date set a few days away due to the backlog.
“Do you want to make a phone call?” The officer asks.
I find myself nodding before I think about it. Her number flashing in my mind like a neon sign.
The officer’s brow creases as he pushes over a phone. I dial.
It rings and my heart accelerates, I cannot wait to hear her voice. The voice that will save or condemn me with its answers.
A recorded message plays and my heart sinks back into the cold depths it climbed from. I want to give up, accept that my life will never be full of contentment or happiness. Maybe that’s the way it should be.
My ‘friend’ in the cell looks up at the sound of the keys, his cold eyes narrow and a smile forms on his face as he looks me over.
He knows.
eat me
Noah
Two days have passed.
I think.
There’s only three of us in the cell now. A drunk guy snoring like a cat being strangled.
And him.
I’ve done everything not to look his way, even though it’s inevitable. I can feel the pull.
Even completing more pushups and sit ups than I can ever remember doing in my life hasn’t assisted. Counting the bricks under the chipped render is also a useless effort. My thoughts keep coming back to Avalon and the choice I’ve already half made. Know I will surrender too. I know I shouldn’t think of her, but it’s like trying to hold back a wave. She’s the only one ever to break through the wasteland I’ve created around myself, the only person to ever make me want to create happiness for them. The only person to cause me to desire something more.
She’s going to be long gone when I get out. Long gone.
Gone. It’s a word that makes my head burn, my stomach churn and my fists clench. He said yesterday that he didn’t have to ask me what I could do, or how far I could go. It was evident in my eyes. She deserves more.
But what could take her place?
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. It’s what I will become.
I sigh and rub my hands through my hair, one still clutches her bikini top. Teasing the fabric out I inhale her scent for the millionth time before finally stowing it in my pocket. My fantasies put to rest. I must face reality.
He senses my weakness immediately, moving with surprising grace to the bench next to me. It creaks with his weight.
“When I was your age, I had nothing, mate. No one. Nothing but a shithouse family and pain in my gut. Now? Now, I have everything. A real family so to speak, power, cred, money. I have a purpose. A reason for living. A reason that dwarfs the pain. When you go in - if you work for me- you won’t be just another useless, dead, inside bum. You’ll have a purpose too. People that will be on your side. You’ll be needed.”
Finally, I turn to him, surrendering everything with a millimetre nod. I see no other option. He smiles at me and claps me on the back. What does it matter? I noticed he didn’t say ‘women’.
“You’ll be glad son; you’re made for this type of work. I can see it clear as day.”
I close my eyes, resigned now to my choice. Funnily enough, last time I was in here all I could think about was Seth and his Dad, bringing them down, this time, I realise I haven’t thought of him once before this. I hate him still, but I don’t care anymore. It seems stupid compared to what awaits me.
‘Rocky’ continues to serenade me with stories of his ‘jobs’. Turns out his nickname is ‘The Dentist’ for reasons that become gorily clear when he gets into the juicy details. He starts to churn out things I could do to earn myself a fear-inspiring name. I should feel sick, I should feel repulsed, but I feel... nothing. I will probably not feel anything ever again, and I’m relieved about it because it hurts.
Thinking of not seeing her again... fricken hurts. Feeling nothing is much better.
Dad was right, it’s best to clamp down emotions and sink them to the bottom of oblivion, they only make you weak. I know the world I’ve just been deemed entry to, I can’t possess any weakness. I can’t have someone that they will hunt to bring me to my knees. Because I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.
Rocky spends the next hour or so teaching me, plying me with in-depth instructions into the prison ‘message’ service, how to make weapons and the black spot locations to carry out jobs. Which prisons, which gangs, which codes, which everything.
With every new topic, I feel further and further from my old life. The information he has passed on to me is dangerous enough in itself to possess. It’s time to stop looking back. To look forward, embrace the weapon that I will become.
Ice floods my veins matching the rest of my body when I fully accept the choice is finally made. Avalon is something in the past. I keep repeating that to myself hoping I will believe it within minutes.
From now on she will just be thought of in the quietest moments, the darkest moments. The glimmer of warmth in my cold life.
“Noah Reed,” another officer, an older one is at the barred door. “This way, mate. Change of accommodation.”
Rocky bestows on me a look that communicates a barrage of things. One is to shut my mouth from what he’s divulged. I nod my understanding. I have plenty of practice in keeping close-lipped. I won’t talk again. Ever.
The officer leads me out to a different part of the station, an older section. “We’ve got a few being processed, so as we know you’re staying a while longer you can stay in this one. Don’t want you messin’ with the likes of Rocky either. Bad news that one. Real bad. Rotten to the very core.”
That’s what they’ll be saying about me in a couple of years. Again, I feel noth
ing, the only person I really care about won’t know anyway.
I enter the cell without complaint, it’s older than the rest. Signs are dotted around that it’s on the cards to be remodeled.
Time ticks by. I’m not sure how long, time seems to flash by or drip slowly when I’m in my dark place. A skitter breaks my trance. Opening my eyes in the grey light, I see a white paper bag on the floor. I didn’t hear footsteps, so my mind interprets it as the initiation to my ‘employment’ for Rocky. The guy moves fast.
Leaning down to pick it up I’m surprised to find an iced pink donut in the bag, complete with 100’s and 1000’s. I can’t imagine Rocky buying this or anyone that is in his so-called ’family’ either.
When I pull the sugary creation out, I see the words EAT ME spelt out in yellow icing. This must be a joke. There’s no way I’m ingesting that, who the hell knows what it’s laced with. I destroy it with my fingers, frowning when I see a tiny paper rolled up in Glad Wrap.
Ignore the commotion and get ready!
What the fuck?
Ready for what? I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. The only weapon I have is my body. Standing up, I warm up and start to flex and stretch. If they want to test me, I will let them experience just what they are buying.
Suddenly, the hallway is filled with a symphony of bangs and shouts. Smoke fills the air. I press myself against the bars to try and get a handle on what the hell is happening. I can’t see a damn thing through the thickening smoke.
A cop emerges coughing and spluttering through the smoke, “We’ll get you out in a sec, mate! Hold tight!” he says with a hoarse voice. Then he disappears, the hall door clanging shut ominously. Dropping to the ground, I breathe in the fresh air and wait.
A strange slithering noise makes me roll to the side and peer behind me. I’m alert and ready for anything. Initiations are brutal. I see hands pushing something in, it snicks against the cement wall. A snake! Shit! No, not a snake, I breathe unevenly my eyes trained unblinkingly on the window, I’m surprised to see it’s a rope now being threaded through the bars on the window.
Trepidation mixes with something icy as I ready myself for what’s coming. Or who is coming. My heart rate slows as I wait to see my first opponent. This is make or break.
The bars trembles and the brickwork around it begins to shake and jitter as the rope tightens around and becomes taut. They must be using a car or something. The rope pulls and relaxes, pulls and relaxes. The wait escalates the tension in my body to an almost breaking point. I start to massage my hands, flexing and clenching them in readiness as I watch the grid of bars slowly but surely inch from their once permanent position.
The scraping stops and starts, loud against the swirling smoke. Finally, they give, falling to the ground outside with a thud.
Moving into a position I think will give me not only the element of surprise but the upper hand when I attack whoever is coming through, I wait flattened against the wall, watching... every cell ready to annihilate.
A gloved hand grips the edge of the craggy bricks. I see the ends of the fingers curl as the owner’s weight leans forward.
I strike.
The amount of force I lend to the move proves to be way more than needed as the intruder’s light body flies effortlessly through the window and smacks on the cement floor with a bone-jarring thud. I expected a big guy and am confused for a second by the small stature of the body gasping for air in front of me. But fierceness can come in any size package, so can experts. I boot him in the side for good measure before falling on him ready to beat the shit out of him. The black hat flies off as I jerk the bastard toward me revealing a bloodied, long beard and messy hair.
The outburst of foul language belongs in prison, but the voice doesn’t, stopping me dead from laying into its owner with my fist.
I stare unbelieving, gripping the front of her shirt.
That gaze I’ve dreamed about narrows on me, burning with a ferocity I’ve only ever seen in her eyes.
Avalon. Oh shit! Avalon!
My eyes rove over her. I want to chuckle, but my face is rigid. She’s no angel come to save me from my choice that’s for sure. She’s wild, dressed all in black, like some olden day, bandito outlaw or something. The weird beard is obviously fake; adhered somehow on her face.
I still stare, kind of in shock.
She sits up with a barely repressed groan and glares at me under thick bushy eyebrows that are not the colour of her hair or her beard. They’re fiery red like her horse’s colour and very long. “Fricken hell! You bloody bonehead of a dick! That must be the crappiest ever welcome for a person trying to save someone! Geez, don’t bloody ask any questions before laying in! And you aren’t even wearing the bikini! What in hell?” She grunts as she pushes to her knees, clutching at her side for a second with a pained groan.
That gets me moving as I run my hands over her to check she’s got nothing broken. She bats them away but not before I notice her eyes watering from the pain. Fuck, I really hurt her. I move my thumb over her face quietly inspecting her, she’s got a cut on her forehead, it’s not deep but it’s running freely. I pull her bikini top from my pocket and hold it against the wound. My other hand seems to have a mind of its own, caressing her neck.
“If you haven’t noticed, Padre, I’m breaking you out. I don’t have time to get all jiggy with you,” she pushes herself up with a grin, pressing her hands over her beard. The palms of her hands are all hairy as well. “Lucky you had that bikini, or this mission would be taking a very different turn.”
“What? You would replace the bars?”
She nods defiantly.
“Men don’t have hair on their palms, Av,” I suddenly feel happy and light but consumed with guilt for hurting her.
“Uh hello! I’m so damn tough I grow hair on my palms like all the real tough men do, you just aren’t built King Gee like me. City boys, soft as… I dunno,” she quips indicating for me to give her a leg up to the window. I see her flinch as she pushes herself through. “I’m channelling Ned Kelly here so I can’t blame you for being taken aback and frightfully scared and extremely jealous of my hairy palms of toughness. It would make anyone without hairy palms of toughness quiver!”
Then she curses as her ‘beard’ gets caught on something outside on the windowsill. “Beards are so bloody stupid!” She growls under her breath.
I hear a bit of movement before I see the rope dangle down, I grab on and am pulled up steadily. When I get level, I see Av perched atop Amber and another horse waiting patiently beside her.
“I was going to break out the giant apple and carrot costume to do this,” she laughs as she fiddles in a bag hanging at the side of her saddle. “Can you imagine a cop saying, ‘All units, APB on a carrot and apple escaping on horseback. Warning, both pieces of fruit are bearded, armed and dangerous!’” She cracks up nearly falling off her horse. “Seth’s mum calls me a rotten apple. Seth probably agrees with her at this moment.” She can’t hold in the fiendish giggle that escapes and I wonder what she has done to Seth. I don’t feel bad, whatever it is.
I should stay, I shouldn’t leave because I’m only going to get in more strife and drag Av into it with me.
But... the offer to spend just one more day with her before I go in for good is way too much temptation for me to turn my back on. This day will live in my memory until I die.
She thrusts a bag at me. “Put these on.” Her voice is full of mischief and peering in the bag I see why. On top of the old western style clothes complete with fringed material and swirling embroidered patterns, is a fake moustache and a... mop? A long stringy one - that has been used to an inch of its life!
I pick up the most normal item of the lot.
“What is this made of?” I laugh pressing the moustache on to my lip. It’s bloody itchy.
“Cow hair, horsetail and this stuff I found in Harry’s medicine cabinet mixed with glue. Put everything on quick, mate! I’m starting to wonder if you comprehen
d time is of the essence when escaping!”
I shove the old-style embroidered shirt on, throw the fringed vest on top, plonk the bright red tomato cowboy hat on and stop...
“The mop! That is a crucial piece of your disguise. Put it on under the hat, so it looks like you’ve got-” she falters, “mouse-grey, unbrushed hair?”
It reeks but is dry, thank God. She snaps a photo.
“Get on!” she urges pointing to Peanut. She must be the only person to break someone out of a modern-day jail on horseback dressed like Bushranger Bob bringing a disguise that includes a used mop head.
My heart hurts.
Hesitating for only a second, I put a leg up in the stirrup.
“You have to put the other leg in,” she points. She quickly jumps off Amber to demonstrate. Peanut moves around while I try to mount, so she holds him, whispering sweet nothings as she strokes his long face. It takes a few seconds to get up.
“Hold on,” she raises one of her bushy eyebrows. And then we are off and I’m holding on like hell as the horse takes off like a rocket after Amber.
I dare to flick my eyes down to my white-knuckled, gripped tight fingers, wrapped around the saddle horn. I’m kind of getting used to the feel of the horse’s movement below me now, maybe, because my butt is numb. Which is lucky because I’ve almost fallen off at least twelve times, corners aren’t too easy. Neither is jumping small fences. Av grins as she sits with ease next to me.
I have no idea where we are, we are winding between trees in the bush, higher and higher. We’ve been off the road for at least an hour now and although I’ve heard the occasional siren, nothing has come our way. She stopped about twenty minutes ago and grabbed a bag stashed behind a bush that she strapped to the back of her saddle. I can smell saltwater.
It’s just on evening when the horses slow from the rocking back and forth movement to a bouncy gait and then to a walk. Twisting and following a track only they and Av can see. I like walking on horses, it’s so much more relaxing even though I can’t feel my feet too well.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 7