Animal: A Prisoned Spinoff Standalone

by Marni Mann

  “Another beer?”

  I nodded and cut the burger in half, shoveling in my first bite.

  Wynter, Mina, and I would eat at some really nice restaurants around San Diego. The two of them might not eat a lot in quantity, but everything they put in their mouths was of the finest quality. Fancy food wasn’t really my thing. The thought of raw fish going down my throat made my stomach churn, I didn’t have the taste for seafood, soup didn’t fill me up, and the spiky purple lettuce that came in salads made me want to gag. So, when I went out with them, all I would eat was meat. I’d had some of the most expensive burgers in this city, and the best ones were at places like this.

  And this burger fucking rocked.

  “Looks good,” Dark Eyes said.

  In here, I didn’t put the napkin on my lap or wipe my mouth after each bite. I picked up my beer with my greasy fingers and took a sip. Then, once I swallowed, I looked at him.

  “It’s awesome.” I felt a glob of ketchup on the corner of my lip. “I know it’s there.” I tongued around the spot. “I’ll get to it.”

  I didn’t know why I was goading him into small talk or why I was pointing out the mess around my mouth. I needed to keep my lips shut, get the burger in my stomach, and get home before I said another word.

  “Get to it, leave it—I don’t care. I’ve been looking at your burger because I’m fucking starving, and I want to know when the bartender is going to deliver mine.”

  That voice again. Good God. It was like I was the meat, and his words were gnawing into me.

  I turned back to my plate, staring at the ketchup-coated disaster I’d made. “It’s worth the wait.”

  “There’s this place down by the bay. Shit, what’s the name of it?”

  I peeked at him while I chomped.

  “Rudy’s, it’s called. They’ve got the best burgers in the city.”

  I shoved in a fry and pushed it to the side of my mouth, so I could say, “Is it a place like this?”

  “Worse.” He picked up his beer and held it toward the light. “At least they use clean glasses here.”

  “Mmm, my kinda place.” I laughed.

  “Here you go, buddy,” the bartender said, setting the burger and fries in front of him. “Ketchup, ranch?”

  “All of it.”

  Dark Eyes got in his first bite, and I watched him, waiting for his response.

  “Oh, hell, you’re right. This is good.”

  “Told you,” I said, my mouth full again.

  The bartender returned with a whole plate of condiments and refilled my empty beer. When Dark Eyes got low on fries, the bartender brought him more even though he hadn’t asked for it.

  “I’ll be coming back here,” he said when we were alone.

  “It’s become my favorite. But I’m going to check out that place, Rudy’s. Seems like I’d like it there, too.”

  He didn’t say another word as he ate. Neither did I. And, because I’d had a head start, I finished before him. With nothing left to inhale, I finally took the napkin and wiped my face. The amount of ketchup I removed from my mouth was almost embarrassing.

  “One more?” the bartender asked as he held up my glass.

  “Just one,” I answered. “Don’t let me have any more after that.”

  The burger helped, but I definitely had a buzz.

  “How about you?” the bartender asked Dark Eyes.

  “Yeah, I’ll take another.”

  I was only a few sips into the cold draft when I started to hiccup.

  It was a sign that I needed to get out of here.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. It was the same amount I brought every time I came here, so I knew it would cover what I’d ordered and leave him with a seventy-dollar tip. I slapped the cash on top of the bar and turned around.

  “Tell me you’re not driving,” Dark Eyes said as I slid to the floor.

  I had planned on taking a cab, but maybe the cool air would help settle some of the thoughts in my head. Thoughts of this gorgeous man and all the wonderful, dominating things his hands could do to my body.

  “Nope. I’m going to walk.”

  “You’re not going to do that either.”

  “Huh?” I shifted my sweater, so it showed more of my shoulder. “Like hell I’m not.” Then, I walked myself straight to the door. As I opened it, I heard movement behind me, and when I looked, he was standing there. Close. Really close. “What the fuck?”

  “Listen…”

  I couldn’t imagine what he needed to say to me or why I so desperately wanted to hear it. But, when I tried to take a step, I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t move. I was frozen until he gave me an answer.

  “Listen to what?” I asked.

  “I don’t even know your name. Miss…”

  “Cheeseburger.”

  His hand went to the top of his head, like he needed something to hold on to. “You’re not serious.”

  “No, I’m not. I just don’t see a reason to tell you anything about myself.” I hiccuped.

  “Fine, don’t tell me your name, but I’m telling you, you’re not walking home by yourself. Not at this hour. Not in this neighborhood.”

  In the daylight, this area was fine. After dark, it wasn’t the safest in San Diego. So, part of me understood his concern. Still, I couldn’t have him come to my place or even the front door of my building.

  “I’ll be okay,” I promised.

  “I know. Because I’m going to call you a cab.”

  “You’re definitely not going to do that.” I looked down the sidewalk, seeing the people who were walking on it. It was busy enough that I knew I’d be safe. “I’m only ten blocks away.”

  He moved through the doorway and took a few steps past me, looking over his shoulder and saying, “Then, I’ll walk with you. Or behind you. But you’re not going to be alone.”

  Somehow, he had chosen the right direction.

  Shit.

  “Really,” I said as I caught up to him, “I’ll be fine. This is unnecessary.”

  He said nothing. He just fell half a pace behind me while I hurried down the first block. He clearly was the protective type, and he wasn’t going to listen or take no for an answer. Not that he had to. The man was massive—tall, broad, muscular, the kind of body that could do large amounts of damage. So, it would feel really strange to turn around and start barking orders at him. Besides, I couldn’t pull it off anyway. I didn’t have Wynter’s personality or her attitude.

  And the truth was, I enjoyed his presence.

  Way more than I should.

  He was near me because he wanted to be. Not because I had teased him with my body, seduced him with my whispers, drugged him with a mysterious white powder. It had been a long time since someone outside The Achurdy was this close. Too long actually.

  I’d hooked up with a few of the deer, but they had been nothing more than booty calls. None of those guys wanted anything serious. They had twenty women at their disposal, and they’d been with all of them.

  This felt different than the deer’s attention.

  This felt raw.

  “Jae.” He uttered only a single word, but it had so much meaning. It was so personal in a space that was so cold.

  Even though he had finished speaking it seconds ago, it still echoed inside my body.

  Jae.

  It was a nice name. One that none of my marks had been called. For some reason, that was important.

  Afraid of the way I might respond, I said nothing. I couldn’t trust my mouth. Not with the way his eyes were making me feel. I held his stare for much longer than I should have, only breaking it because we were approaching a crosswalk.

  As we waited for the light to change, I pointed at my place. The high-rise stuck out with so many shorter buildings around it. “I’m right there.” Even before I looked, I already knew his gaze was still on me and not on my apartment. “I’ll be fine walking the rest of the way alone,” I spoke so softly, ye
t I was trying so hard to be louder.

  “I’m sure you’d be fine, but I’m still walking with you.”

  “I…” I couldn’t find my confidence or the snark I needed to use to get this man to back down. I knew what I had to say, but the words just wouldn’t come out. That was because I didn’t want to say them. I wanted to be my own person, make my own decisions. But that choice had been taken away from me. So, I tried to channel Wynter as I gritted my teeth and said, “Don’t.”

  “Don’t?” He turned his head a little to the side, showing me the stubble that ran across his jaw and his heavily hooded midnight eyes. “Come have a drink with me.”

  “You’re not—”

  “Listening to you?”

  He took a step closer, and I stopped breathing. He was less than two feet away, and I could feel him. It was as though he were touching me, but his hands were at his sides.

  “I heard you just fine. But, now, I’m asking you a question.”

  I shook my head. I shook it hard.

  Wynter could be coming home at any second and drive right by us. She could see us and then jump out of her car and make a huge scene. Any of the girls who lived in the area could do the same. I had to get away from him and get my ass home.

  “I can’t.”

  “Are you sure about that? Because I think you want to come with me, and I think you’re going to.” He pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons on the screen. “Someone is going to pick me up here in five minutes. Come with me, or go home. It’s up to you.”

  To my left was a small shop. The front door had an awning over the top that provided so much darkness, I could barely see the door. It would be the perfect place to hide and wait for his ride.

  But then I glanced in front of me, at the building that was only three blocks away.

  Finally, my eyes made it back to Jae.

  I needed to give him an answer.

  And I needed it to be the right one.

  Beard

  The morning I was scheduled to fly out to Miami, Bond showed up at the prison. Since the three guards were all in Venezuela, both sweepers were too busy to leave, and Inmate #1516 needed to be transferred here, Bond had offered to bring him in. We didn’t ask for his help that often, but when we did, he never said no.

  Because my flight was scheduled to leave only an hour after Bond landed, we didn’t have much time to catch up. Just a couple of minutes where he told me about the mills and I briefly mentioned my investment with Layla. Then, I took the boat to the airport and boarded our private plane.

  It surprised the hell out of me when Bond walked on a few minutes later.

  “Care for some company?” he asked from the entrance.

  I was in my seat, belt across my waist, drink in hand, with a tablet on my lap. I shut the cover over the screen and crossed my boots. “Sure. Come on in.”

  The plane sat ten. It had a four-seater couch on one side, a row of two single seats, and two sets of two that faced each other. I was sitting in the two sets of two, and Bond took the spot across from me. He dropped his briefcase on the space next to him and put his belt on.

  “I thought you were going to hang out with Shank for a few days.”

  “Something came up, and I have to get back. I figured, why not ride with you?” His eyes told a whole different story.

  That was one of the things about my job; I’d gotten real good at reading eyes. I knew when someone was lying, when they were holding back. And I usually knew what it would take to get them to spill.

  For Bond, all I had to do was ask him. “What’s the real reason you’re flying back?”

  Before he had a chance to answer, the flight attendant came and said to Bond, “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Scotch. Neat.”

  She’d be coming back with a tumbler of liquor, and before the flight was over, he’d be getting his dick sucked. Drinking and coming were the only things to do on these long-ass trips, and this chick was always more than eager to help with both.

  With his scotch now in his hand, Bond set his shoe over his other thigh and looked right at me. “I wanted to check in on you. It’s been a while. I want to make sure things are as they should be.”

  Bullshit.

  “Say it, Bond. Whatever it is.” I lifted my glass in the air, shaking it so that the cubes hit the sides.

  The girl noticed and signaled that she’d bring me another.

  “Give it to me straight,” I said.

  He didn’t say anything as my drink was delivered, and he remained quiet after she left. The plane then taxied onto the runway, and the pilot let us know we were going to take off.

  Once the wheels were no longer on the ground, several sips of booze already down his throat, he said, “I think it’s time for you to come home.”

  There it was. The words I had feared were coming.

  Had he said this at the prison, I would have left and gone into town. I even would have rented a hotel room and stayed there until he was gone. But I couldn’t do that on a plane. Bond had known that. I had a feeling that had been his plan all along. Because getting me to talk about this shit meant backing me into a corner, and he’d done just that.

  “I do go home,” I said. “Every few weeks.” I looked out the window, seeing the clouds move past, knowing the turbulence would settle as soon as we cleared them. At least the rocking of the plane would stop. But who the fuck knew what would erupt from this conversation?

  “That’s how you’re referring to it now? Home?”

  “It’s where I live, where I sleep, where I get my dick sucked. So, yeah, it’s home.”

  “What about your other home?”

  There wasn’t enough vodka on this fucking plane to get me to open up about this. And there was nothing that flight attendant could bring me that would calm what was starting to brew in my chest. Only the screams would take that away, and those were forty thousand feet below me.

  “Fuck that place.”

  “Let’s talk about why you won’t return.”

  I lifted the notch and pulled the belt off my waist. It’d felt like the thing was squeezing all the food out of my stomach. Then, I yelled toward the back, “Bring me another fucking drink!” Whatever liquid was left in the glass went into my mouth, burning as it went down my throat. “Stop trying to shrink me, Bond.”

  That was what Shank and I called it when his dad tried to go all doctor on us. Most days, I could handle his interrogation. Not today.

  He calmly folded his hands in his lap. “No shrinking here. I’m simply trying to understand where your head is at.”

  No shrinking? From the minute he’d walked onto the plane, he’d been all business. This was the doctor talking to me, not the father figure I’d known since I was a little kid. I hated that he sometimes got the two confused.

  “You know where my head is at. You know why I won’t return. There’s no fucking need to talk about it. Hearing me say the words over and over isn’t going to change how I feel.”

  The chick brought two vodkas this time and set both in front of me.

  “I like the hotel I’ve been staying at, and tomorrow, I’m putting down a deposit for a condo. It’ll be a new home, fresh start—whatever bullshit you want to call it.”

  As soon as I finished speaking, he said my name. The tone he used worked me up even more. He wasn’t being the guy who’d raised me. He was still playing doctor, and I couldn’t fucking stand it.

  “Stop it, Bond. I don’t want to be fixed.”

  He said my name again.

  Jesus, what was he trying to do to me?

  “You—”

  I shook my head. “Enough, Bond.”

  I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to hear any more of this shit.

  “It’s not your home.”

  My teeth gritted together. “It is.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  When I realized my hand was around one of the glasses, squeezing it with all my strength, I se
t it down and pushed myself to the end of my seat.

  “It’s not where you were raised or where you used to spend all your time before you opened the prison or where you used to fly back and forth before—”

  “Enough!” I rubbed my palms over my jeans, trying to stop my hands from shaking, drying off all the sweat that had formed. “That makes no difference.”

  “That’s how you look at it now? That it has no effect on your life? Don’t you think you have some things to resolve? It would help to—”

  “Why are you doing this?” I was yelling. And I didn’t give a fuck.

  “I’m trying to make you see that not all your memories are bad ones.”

  They weren’t all bad; he was right about that. But there were enough dark ones to keep me out of that place for a long fucking time. I didn’t need to relive that shit whenever I went back there. So, I’d keep avoiding it for as long as I damn well pleased.

  “Like the day you walked into my house with all your clothes in trash bags,” he continued. “Do you remember that morning?”

  “Bond,” I growled, now holding the armrests, willing myself to stay where I was and not reach forward to shut his mouth closed. “I told you, I’m not talking about this.”

  He sighed. “Fine. But you need to at some point. You can’t leave a wound bandaged forever. You need to unwrap it and air it out every so often. Because you know what can happen?”

  I stood and walked into the aisle. “Yeah, I know. It can turn you into a prison guard where you torture people for a living. But wouldn’t you say it’s a little too late for that? I already kill, and I already fucking torture. So, it looks like my wound isn’t just infected; it’s fucking gangrene.”

  “I understand it might take some time, but I hope, one day, you’ll consider returning home.”

  Home. Home. Home.

  I couldn’t fucking stand that word.

  “Because too much time passes between our visits,” he added. “I don’t like it. I miss the years when I saw you and Shank every day.”

  There wasn’t an angle he wouldn’t try.

  Not a goddamn thing was off-limits.

  “You know where I’m at, Bond. Nothing’s stopping you from coming to see me.”

  He reached into the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out his phone. “Do you need anything? It’s been a while, so I assume you’ve been getting it from another source, but I can get whatever you need sent right over.”