by J. L. Drake
“Too busy feelin’ up something that wasn’t yours.” Zay snickered.
“Don’t see you stickin’ it to her either.” Fox spat at his feet, and Zay tossed a right hook. Fox was flung back into the computers, sending shit everywhere.
“Zay,” I kicked the now blind IT kid who had fallen into shock, “get rid of him. Fox,” I blocked his way when he went to leave, “get your fat ass to California and get rid of that fucker Links.”
Chapter Four
Trigger
“I always wanted to know what it would be like to fight the unstoppable cocaine king,” Inmate number 5768048 said quietly before he turned and spat in my face. I never cared enough to learn his name. I just knew he went after Rail. Therefore, a point must be made.
My jumpsuit was folded down over my hips so my torso was exposed. The rain pelted off the tops of my shoulders and raced across my chest, creating a slick surface for when the fucker grabbed at my waist. He was predictable; they all were.
He reached to stab me in the gut, but I knocked the four-inch blade from his grip. He twisted, grabbed my middle, and slammed me back into the cement wall. The impact felt great, exactly what I needed to awaken the starving demons.
Before I went for his thigh to crush the muscle, I tilted my head and made eye contact with the guard whose trust I’d gained the other day. He monitored the yard that week. With a slight nod, he assured me with his fingers I had six minutes.
Perks of the weak.
The asshole yelped and buckled under the pressure, and once he was down, I bent at the knee and slowly sank my shin into his windpipe using my body weight. His eyes bulged, and his hands clawed at me, but he couldn’t get a grip, and he couldn’t push me off.
I scanned the perimeter. The inmates in Block C watched, and their hands waved from the bars in the windows. My gaze went along the gutter that was unable to keep up with the rainfall, followed it to the corner, and stopped twenty feet from the ground.
I pulled him to his knees and dragged his nearly unconscious body across the yard to the heavy flow of rain that poured from the gutter. He started to wave his arms around when I pinned his head face-up between my knees. He bucked and choked on the water as it filled him to the brim. His rapid heartbeat slowed beneath the pads of my fingers, and his struggles weakened.
The light from his soul started to dim, so I leaned forward over him and blocked the rain so it poured around us like a curtain, cutting us off from the world.
I slapped his face and saw the light shine slightly brighter. He was still there. I just needed him to hear me.
“I’m untouchable, behind bars or not.” I grabbed his throat and shook him back to me again. I held his gaze for a moment longer. “Never go after one of my men again.” Then I let him drop and raced around the corner and through the kitchen where a dry jumpsuit waited for me.
“We good?” Brick asked under his breath as he slapped mashed potatoes on a plate. He tossed it at Rail, who gagged over the green beans he was in charge of.
“Yeah.”
The siren blasted through the speakers, and the guards started to yell.
Here we go.
***
“You play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.” Sam glanced out of the corner of his eye and nodded at the guard who was listening to us.
“So, I get burned.”
“Trigger, the judge is leaning toward three life sentences. Stop playing with your life here.”
“Sounds to me I may not have a life to care about.”
Sam shook his head. He looked beat, but he wasn’t in here, so I couldn’t have cared less. He had one job to do and he fucking sucked at it.
“Tess?” I changed the subject. I didn’t get caught, and I wouldn’t. Just like I didn’t go to the hole. I had power here.
Sam pushed his chair back and waved at someone. A strange feeling crept over me as my trust in him was suddenly shaken. Sam had never brought anyone to the jail before because that was my rule.
My gaze shot to the man standing in front of me. He waited for me to give him permission to sit. I gave a tight nod.
Sam handed him the receiver, and I waited to hear what he had to say.
“Good?” he rasped.
I didn’t respond.
“Okay.” He pulled out a file and held it up for the guard to see as he pressed a small piece of paper up against the glass. In black Sharpie was a single word. Tennessee.
My fingers twitched with mixed emotion.
Morgan’s face dropped, and the stress lines embedded around his eyes deepened. “I had to try.”
I rubbed my beard and tugged it a few times while I allowed the shadow of betrayal to fall from my shoulders. He had done what I asked and got a goddamn answer.
“And?”
He shook his head. “Someone said they heard a trucker picked up a girl on the side of the road. Said she wouldn’t talk, just wanted a ride and to use the phone. When the trucker went to use the bathroom, she robbed her and took off.” Morgan matched my grin. That’d be Tess. “Seems even the devil can’t hold that little tiger down.”
I opened my mouth to speak when the lines between his eyes suddenly deepened.
“I swear to God, Trigger, I saw your mother in the parking lot when I went to pick up Tess from the hotel.”
What? I pushed that thought out of my head. I couldn’t handle ifs right now.
“Leave tonight, use the safe in my office, and keep Sam in the loop.” I paused. “If you see her again, approach her.”
I stood to leave, but Morgan remained seated. I pulled the receiver back to my ear.
“What?”
The crackle over the shitty speaker of the phone was all I heard for a second, and I knew I wasn’t going like what I was about to hear.
“I know who the second mole is.”
My stomach tightened. I didn’t want anyone to get to him before I did.
“I saw him shoot Links.”
“Okay,” I grunted.
“Took everything I had not to return the favor.”
“He still alive?”
“Yeah, only ’cause I heard him mention he needed to ride to Tennessee, and it had me curious. I left that night and started diggin’. Took a bit of time, but the truckers know all.” He was right. When shit went down, we went to the truckers first. “I wanna follow him.”
More than anything, I wanted Morgan at the club, but if the mole could lead us to Tess or Gus, I needed to know.
“Fine, but check in.”
“I will.” He put his fist to the window as a sign of our brotherhood then left.
Sam dropped down in his chair and started to speak. “Trig—”
“I need to get the fuck out of here, and I don’t care how.” I slammed the phone down.
I stalked through the common room and up to the library to have a moment alone with my demons.
I wove through the aisle of books. It was the only room the guards didn’t seem to linger in. The smell of old pages and musty leather hung thick in the air. I tapped the bottom of the spine, so the book fell into my hands, and I opened it to the middle and pretended to read as I scanned the room with my peripheral vision. Rail and Brick were over by the office. When they looked up, their eyes showed me someone was approaching me from behind.
Something slammed onto the top of my head and stunned me. I nearly lost my footing. The flash of a knife caught my eye, aimed at my neck. As I reacted and grabbed the hand that held it, I saw Wes, my cellmate, crack a lunch tray in half over his thigh and jam it into the fucker’s side.
“Damn,” Rail leaned over and inspected the guy’s side, “that’s gotta hurt.”
The man tried to swipe at him, but Wes kicked the tray in further, ending it.
I half smiled, impressed to see the kid had quick reflexes and a strong stomach.
“You good?” Wes looked over my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
The sound of boots had us all looking for an exit.
Wes waved for us to follow him in the back and into a second office. “In here.” He pointed to a small book cupboard with barely enough room to hold us. We jammed ourselves in just in time.
“Inmate Wesley!” the guard yelled out. “Where are you?”
Wes shut the door quickly, but there was still a small crack visible. I could see the guard as he came in.
“Hey,” Wes responded with a friendly voice. “What can I help you with, sir?”
“What the fuck happened out there?”
My skin tightened at the thought he could out us. It would be suicide, but it happened…
“Shit, I have no idea.” He rubbed his head like he was worried. “Is he dead?” He walked out with the guard, leading him away from us.
“I did hear that Kale guy talkin’ about a hit on the Latinos.” Wes looked around and sighed. “Shit, he was the mark.”
“No one else is in here?” the guard asked as he peered around the room.
“No, sir. I’ve been back there all day, but I never heard anyone come in.”
He pulled his Taser out and held it to Wes’s head. “You know why you work here, right?” Wes nodded. “Because you don’t cause any trouble. Don’t make me doubt my decision.”
“Why would I risk it?”
“Smart kid.” He tapped his temple before he turned and walked back to the dead body then raised his radio to call it in.
Huh. I was impressed.
On a nod from Wes, we slipped quietly out of the office and retreated down the opposite hall while the guard was occupied with his radio.
***
The cold air drifted in through the open window of our cell. Night blooming jasmine was a welcome change, since my bed was two feet from the shitter.
“Why did you help us tonight?” I asked, knowing Wes was awake.
“I took an oath.”
“I don’t follow.”
He waited a beat before he answered. “If you don’t ride with me, you’ll never be free.”
I smirked, beyond impressed he hadn’t told me right off the bat.
“Kansas chapter, until I took a fall for the VP.”
I was surprised I hadn’t heard about Wes before.
“What went down?”
Wes hooked an arm under his head. “Same old prospect shit. They killed someone they shouldn’t have and needed someone to take the fall.”
“How long?”
“I have three months left.” He went silent for a moment. “Haven’t seen freedom since I was sixteen.” He cleared his throat. “The day they say I’ll be released will be my twenty-fifth birthday.” I heard him chuckle. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
“You won’t go back to Kansas?”
“Nah,” he muttered. “Nothing there for me. Hell, there’s nothing for me anywhere.”
I understood that comment all too well. I often felt like a nomad when I was younger too.
“I heard about your old lady.” A burn shot up my throat, but I held my tongue. “Any word on her whereabouts?”
Don’t flip.
Don’t flip.
Don’t flip.
Once my blood pressure lowered and the stretch of silence got too long for comfort, I spoke.
“We have a lead.”
“Good. I have—”
“No, I won’t!” Rail suddenly yelled from the next cell.
“What I wouldn’t do to have a solid wall between us,” Brick hissed.
“Like you’re a peach to live with.”
“I know I am,” Brick barked back.
“Fuck me.” I covered my sore eyes and willed something bad to happen to that fucking cell.
“Are Brail always like this?” Wes half laughed at the bickering dicks next door.
“The jury is still out,” I joked darkly.
***
Tess
“You know, Savannah said you were badass, and this proves it.” Keith slid in across the table from me. Mike gave me a wave from the door. I could tell we weren’t sticking around for long.
The waitress came over, but he waved her off kindly before he redirected himself to me.
“Are you okay?”
“Banged up my leg, but all things considered…” I started to move my leg, but he stopped me.
“Stay sitting.” His eyes did a quick sweep behind me. “I know you’re quick, Tess, so I’m not going to play the victim game with you.”
“Good.” I sat a little straighter, happy to be classified as strong rather than weak.
“After I’m done talking, I want you to smile at me then leave. Head outside to the black SUV with the light blue plates and go to the back passenger door and slip inside. Do not look back, do not talk to anyone, but most of all, act natural. Nerves will show.”
My hand immediately reached down to my wrist to fiddle with my bracelets, but they weren’t there.
Shit.
“Are they here?” My palms became sweaty.
“Don’t know, so we assume they are.” He dropped some cash on the table. “Time to go, Tess.”
My knees shook as I planted a fake smile and headed down the row of tables, past Mike, and out into the daylight. I felt way too exposed, but I bit down on my fear and did what I was told. I heard the doors unlock just as I reached for the handle and pulled it open. The male in the seat next to me continued to look straight ahead. It wasn’t until the door was shut that the two looked at me.
“Hi, Tess. I’m Corporal Davie.” A young man offered his hand.
“Hey.” I fumbled with my seatbelt.
“That’s Corporal Quinn.” He pointed to the driver as Mike jumped in the back and Keith got in the front.
“Go,” Keith ordered.
And just like in the movies, we took off, leaving the tiny diner to wonder what the hell just happened.
Keith set an iPad on his lap and pulled a stylus from his pocket. Tilting the visor to look at me through the mirror, he started to talk.
“This might seem too fast, but I don’t want to wait until we get to our next stop.”
I knew what he was referring to. I’d been around enough of this shit to get it.
“We were in Vegas for Trigger’s fight.” He started to type on the keyboard, and I tried to focus on the details. I knew I had to be as brief and to the point as I could. “Jace lured me away from my seat, away from the guys. He faked being sick.” I licked my bottom lip and tried to hold back the lash of anger that came with his name. “Zay, who is Allen’s right-hand man, took me to a limo where he kept me until Jace joined us.”
“How did Jace seem?”
“At that point, he was frustrated and annoyed.” Keith nodded. “He made it clear he didn’t have a choice in what he had done.”
“Okay, what happened next?”
I spent the next thirty minutes going over all the details. Keith asked many questions about the house where I was kept, but I didn’t have any clue where we were. It was incredibly maddening to have no idea how you got from point A to point B. All I knew was I was on foot, and I ran for about four-ish hours after the lake before I hit the road.
Tears threatened my eyes, but I held them off, although my voice cracked on Keith’s last question.
“How was Gus before you left?”
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and fought like hell not to cry. “Needing me to get home for the boys.”
“He has two, right?”
“I wasn’t just referring to them, but, yes, Fin and Denton.”
He turned around and removed his sunglasses. I could see the sympathy in his eyes—not the kind that made you uncomfortable, but the kind that showed he understood you.
“We’ll do what we can for him.”
“Thanks.”
“Tess?” Mike bumped my shoulder. He handed me his phone, and it was calling someone. “Thought he’d be your choice, after Brick.”
“Hello.” Morgan’s husky voice broke through the signal.
My stom
ach clenched at his tone. “Morgan.” My voice quivered, as I felt that much closer to Trigger. I slapped my hand down on Mike’s and gave it a squeeze. “It’s Tess.”
“Holy shit! Where are you?”
“I’m with Keith and Mike. It’s a long story, but I’m okay.”
“Jesus, Tess, it’s good to hear that.”
“Yeah, is um…?” I shook my head, trying to say his name.
“He’s in a lot of trouble, Tess, so the sooner I get to you, the better.”
“Will you tell him I’m okay?”
“No,” he said without emotion. “If something happens between now and when I get to you, I’ll be the one to take the blame. Just because he’s in jail doesn’t mean he won’t flip.”
I froze for a moment. To see Trigger in jail would be hard to swallow. He was so big and carried such authority that to see him behind bars, following orders from others, would be a trip, and not a good one.
“Okay, I understand.” I glanced at Mike. “I’m going to hand you over to Mike so he can fill you in.”
“Yeah.”
I settled in my seat, leaned my head back, and let my mind drift to Mike’s husky voice.
You’re safe, Tess. Sleep.
***
“Not too bad for the Army,” I joked when Mike set a bag of clean clothes on the hotel bed.
“You haven’t even seen the best part yet.” He grinned when he opened the mini bar. “Tiny peanuts and tiny whiskeys.”
“So, that would make them micro-mini for you.” I tried to play along, but a giant ball of anxiety was corroding my insides.
“Mmm.” He steadied the bottle for a moment before he set it back in place. “It’s barely even a drink.”
“So,” I eased down into the leather chair, “tell me what we do now.”
“First, we have a good look at that leg. I can tell it’s nasty. And then,” he folded his arms with a sigh, “we wait for Morgan, and you decide if you want to go back with him or to our safe house.”
“I need to get back to the club.” I stumbled. “Not that I’m not grateful, but this isn’t a case like Savannah’s.”
“It’s not.” He pulled a bottle of water out of the bag and handed it to me, along with a couple of tablets. “Take these every four hours, and make sure you watch that leg. It doesn’t look infected, at least not yet, and the cut isn’t deep enough for stitches, but it’ll still leave a scar.” He clucked his tongue as he wrapped my leg then considered his next words. “Sometimes the hard part is at the beginning. You know who took you and why. That makes you lucky.”