by Sophia Gray
The bell dinged, and the fighters returned to their corners.
“See? What did I tell you?” Bull cawed triumphantly. “You've got him! Just a few more taps in the next round, and he's going down!”
Hank shook his head. “Something's wrong with him.” At the other end of the ring, he saw Roberto chewing out Manolo, who didn't seem to hear a word.
“Damn right there's something wrong with him,” Bull agreed. “He's a wetback who thought he could step into the ring with a white man and win.”
Bull's words turned Hank's stomach, and so did the thought of beating up a man who could barely stand. “No. Something's really wrong. We should stop the fight.”
“You're about to stop the fight. Hard. Now go out there and show him the face of the Master Race.”
Hank felt helpless. His gut was telling him that this would end badly, but he knew he wasn't in any position to go against Bull and throw in the towel. If he was going to survive in here, he had to see this through.
The bell dinged and Hank stood up dutifully, ready to end this.
This time, Manolo didn't even bother to lift his arms. They hung at his sides, swinging like pendulums. His knees were shaking, and his head was moving from side to side, as though he was trying to clear the cobwebs.
Hank stepped up to him and threw a punch at his stomach.
Manolo's entire body began to convulse. The veins in his face and neck stood out, and he was wheezing and choking. He lurched forward and his mouth guard fell out, followed by a torrent of thick, ropy vomit and saliva.
Hank jumped back just as Manolo fell forward onto his face and stopped moving.
There was an uneasy murmur from the crowd as DiNovi crouched next to Manolo, flipping him over onto his back and examining him. After a few moments, DiNovi looked up, his eyes wide.
“He's dead.”
The Aryans erupted into cheers and applause while the Sinners took to their feet, shrieking and cursing and accusing. Hank felt a stab of fear, wondering whether the two factions would simply crash together like tidal waves, tearing each other apart. Could this be enough to start a riot? Jesus, what the hell happened here?
What had he done?
Chapter 14
Beth
Roberto's scream of anger and grief echoed off the walls of the gym. Seconds later, it was joined by a chorus of prisoners' voices yelling and swearing all at once—a sound like the ocean, like waves crashing against the shore.
Waves of panic rippled through Beth as the first few prisoners started attacking each other over the fight's outcome. She'd barely had time to process how suddenly Manolo had keeled over and died, and now she found herself in the middle of a hurricane of violence. No matter which way she turned, it seemed like she was inches away from a wall of enraged convicts ready to destroy anything in their path.
They're going to riot, her mind yammered as she pulled her baton from her belt. They're going to take over this gym and take the guards hostage, and there'll be nothing to stop all those inmates from raping me, oh God, oh please, not this, not this, get me out of here...
As if on cue, she felt a hand on her ass and whirled around, raising her baton. She was just in time to see the face of a Sinner named Hooper leering at her lasciviously before Hank grabbed him from behind, choking him out.
“Thank you,” Beth said breathlessly.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Hank urged her through gritted teeth. “Now.”
Beth turned to run, but her path was blocked by a pair of inmates grappling with each other. One was Hank's cellmate Ram, and the other was a gaunt Sinner whose name Beth didn't know. The Sinner slammed Ram's head against the floor with a sickening crunch, and Ram's body went limp.
An alarm started to honk loudly, and the doors of the gym opened. Armored members of the Emergency Response Team flooded in, using their plexiglass shields to push the prisoners apart into groups. Most of the inmates immediately put their hands on their heads when they saw the guards in riot gear coming toward them. A handful of them didn't, and seconds later, they were facedown on the floor with heavy boots pressed against their necks and backs as batons pummeled their kidneys.
“Lockdown!” Butler hollered. “Go back to your cells at once. This is your one and only warning. Anyone not in their cells in five minutes will be spending the next month in the infirmary or the hole.”
The ERT guards hustled the groups of prisoners to their respective cell blocks. Beth saw that Hank was holding his sides in pain, and his face was starting to bruise and swell. After the punishment he'd taken during the fight, subduing Hooper had probably taken the last of his strength.
Beth walked over to Butler. “Hall is in bad shape. I'll take him to the infirmary.”
Butler's lip curled into a snarl of contempt. “I'll take him to the infirmary, along with Ram. You take these prisoners back to block G and lock them in good and tight.”
The convicts started to file out of the gym. Just like that, the maelstrom had blown over as quickly as it had started. As Beth led her prisoners out, she glanced over her shoulder and saw ERT members hovering over Manolo's body.
What had happened? Beth hadn't watched a lot of boxing matches, and she was extremely relieved that Hank hadn't been crippled or killed—but even she could see that something strange had taken place, based on how rapidly Manolo had crashed and burned after the first two rounds.
She led the prisoners to their cells, locking them in. When she got to Foley's cell, she realized he was still wearing a dress, and she felt a pang of concern for him as she locked him in with the three Sinners. Given the gang members' pent-up aggression after the aborted riot, she could only imagine how they'd take it out on Foley once they were alone. Still, there was nothing she could do about it.
When she got to Bull's cell, he said, “Leave mine unlocked. And when Hank comes back from the infirmary, make sure his is unlocked, too.”
“Butler said to make sure everyone was locked in,” Beth replied uncertainly. “He didn't say anything about making exceptions.”
Bull rolled his eyes. “Butler takes orders from me, and you take orders from Butler. Ergo, you take orders from me, and I say leave the cells unlocked. Now are you going to do what you're fucking told, or do I have to remind you that I've got people on the outside who know where you live?”
Beth sighed and left the cell unlocked. Bull pulled his white curtain over the door.
After that, there wasn't much for Beth to do except pace around the cell block, worrying about Hank. He could have internal injuries, or one of his broken ribs could have punctured an organ. And still, he hadn't hesitated to come to her aid when she was in danger.
She desperately wanted to go to the infirmary and check on him, but she knew she couldn't risk it. Even though there were other guards to watch over G block, she'd seen the look of suspicion on Butler's face when she offered to take Hank to the prison doctor. He already knew she was affiliated with the Warriors. But if he suspected that she was particularly involved with Hank, that could make for bigger problems for both of them.
Her footsteps echoed against the concrete walls and floors. Every minute seemed to last an hour. She could still taste the adrenaline at the back of her throat from the panic in the gym.
Finally, a short, squat female guard named Welker led Hank back to his own cell. She had thinning brown hair, bad teeth, and a nose that resembled a pig's snout. She was one of the COs who worked for the White Knights, and in the locker room, Beth had noticed several neo-Nazi tattoos on Welker's arms and body.
Hank was still shirtless, with medical tape around his ribs. Most of his face was purple from the punches he'd taken. Welker pulled his cell door shut, but left it unlocked before walking away.
Beth looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then she crept over to Hank's cell, sliding the door open and leaning in.
“How are you holding up?”
Hank was lying on his cot with his arms at his sides. One of his
eyes was swollen shut. The other was simply closed.
“I've had worse,” he said. It sounded like he was trying to move his face as little as possible when he talked. “You shouldn't be in here. Someone's going to wonder why you are.”
“I couldn't help it. I had to make sure you were okay.”
Hank's eye opened, and he glared at her. “You need to stop trying to look out for me and start looking out for yourself instead.”
Beth knew Hank was trying to protect her, but his words still stung. She hated how he kept pushing her away and saying it was for her own good, as though she was still some kid who needed to be told what was best for her.
“Thank you for saving me,” she said quietly.
“You already thanked me,” he answered flatly. “But I won't always be there to save you, especially if Butler and the other guards decide you're a problem. Now get the fuck out of my cell before you get us both in trouble.” He closed his eye again.
Beth opened her mouth to say more, but she didn't want to upset him. There was plenty to say, but for now, it was enough to know that he hadn't been injured too badly.
She left the cell, closed the door behind her, and resumed her pacing through the cell block.
Chapter 15
Beth
Hank heard the cell door slide open again, and at first, he assumed Beth had returned. He wasn't sure how that would make him feel.
Angry that she'd disregarded his warnings?
Or relieved?
He hated having to talk to her that way, but if he really cared about her safety, he knew he didn't have a choice. He liked that she cared about him and he wished he could reciprocate, but the closer she tried to get to him in here, the more dangerous things would be for her.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Bull standing at the foot of his cot, smiling down at him.
“How are you holding up?”
They were the same words Beth had used, and as a reflex, Hank found himself giving the same answer. “I've had worse.”
He wanted to tell Bull he shouldn't be in here either, if only to get rid of him so Hank could get some rest. But he stopped himself. Clearly, Bull would do as he pleased.
“Man, every hump in this prison has some kind of nickname,” Bull said. “But after today, I can damn sure see how you earned yours. That was one hell of a fight you just fought.”
“No it wasn't,” Hank replied. Every word made his face hurt, and he felt like if he were forced to say much more, he might lose his temper. “He beat the fuck out of me for two rounds. Then he stopped. Then he died. I barely laid a glove on him.”
Bull laughed. “Wow. With descriptive skills like yours, I guess it's a good thing you're not a sports announcer. Anyway, I realize you're probably not in a very talkative mood right now, so I won't take up much of your time. But I made a pile of money betting on you today, son. And I figured you deserved a cut of it, for representing us so well.”
Bull pulled a thick roll of bills from his pocket, tossing them onto the bed between Hank's legs. Hank looked at it, remembering the sight of Manolo's spasms as he threw up his mouth guard.
“Keep it. All I want is to know what happened in that ring.”
Bull shrugged. “Just what I said. You fought harder, you won, he died. It's fucked up, but it happens.”
“I know it happens.” The pain in Hank's face kept sinking deeper and deeper with each word, until it felt like the front of his skull was one massive bruise. “I killed someone in the ring once before. I know what that looks like. It doesn't look like it did with Manolo, where the guy just stops fighting back after two rounds and collapses in a pool of his own puke.”
“He probably just had a bad burrito or something. Who knows? As far as I know, it was a clean fight, period. Try not to get too hung up on it.” Bull pointed at the roll of bills. “And seriously, keep that. I know you're feeling a little off right now, but when the bruises and ribs start to heal, I'm betting you'll be glad you've got it. Now get some rest. We'll talk more after the lockdown's over.”
And with that, Bull left, pulling Hank's door shut and whistling to himself as he returned to his own cell.
Hank looked at the money for a long moment, then kicked it off the cot and closed his eye again.
Chapter 16
Beth
The lockdown lasted for four days. During that time, there wasn't much for Beth to do except keep patrolling block G and do random cell checks for weapons and contraband. The prisoners stayed in their cells, except for when groups of them were carefully escorted to the cafeteria or the showers. Butler and the other guards made sure that Knights and Sinners ate and bathed at different times, to prevent more fights from breaking out.
Since the lockdown kept the guards idle for the most part, the more experienced ones started to exchange tales of the riot fifteen years ago. To this day, no one was entirely certain of how it had started. Some said an inmate took up too much time on an exercise machine in the gym, and another prisoner got impatient and shivved him over it. Others insisted that it had been meticulously planned by a few of the convicts as cover for an escape attempt, and that the attack in the gym had been staged.
All anyone knew for certain was that the convicts had held six guards hostage for almost three whole days before the governor ordered the Emergency Response Team to breach that section of the prison with tear gas and assault rifles. When the smoke cleared, nine prisoners and two guards were dead, and a third guard took a bullet in the spine which left her paralyzed for life.
The stories scared Beth, especially after the glimpse of chaos she'd gotten after the boxing match. The idea of an entire section of Bluebonnet raging like that for days at a time was terrifying. According to the veteran COs, the hostages had been severely brutalized before the ERT intervened. Even the ones who survived never returned to work at the prison after that. Welker said that some of them later committed suicide or spent the rest of their lives in mental institutions, but based on the relish in Welker's voice when she told these sordid tales, Beth figured she was probably exaggerating for dramatic effect.
Beth kept drifting over to Hank's cell to check in on him. Each time she did, he glared at her and maintained a stony silence. But she still couldn't help herself, and she was pleased to see that Hank's face was healing, albeit slowly. The swelling had subsided, and the bruises had gone from purple and black to yellow and brown.
From what Beth had heard, Ram was in much worse shape. He had a depressed skull fracture which had nearly killed him, and it would be at least a week before he made it back to the cell block.
On the third day of the lockdown, as she walked past Bull's cell, he poked his head out. “Hey, D'Amato. Come in here for a sec.”
Beth entered Bull's cell, and he handed her a slip of paper and some cash. “I want you to go get me some new porn. I've written down the kind of stuff I'm into, and a couple of my favorite stars. About five DVDs should be enough.”
She raised an eyebrow, gesturing at his collection of discs. “I'm not doing that. Besides, it looks like you've got plenty of them already.”
“Yeah, I've seen all of those about a hundred times. I'm bored with them, and I want new ones.”
“Well, that's too bad, because I'm still not going to do it.”
Bull's lips smiled, but his eyes were cold and flat. “You know, I'm in this place for life. Actually, three lives...three life sentences. I'm going to be in this cell every hour of every day of every year until I die, and I'll never have sex with a woman ever again.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Beth answered sarcastically.
Bull's grin widened. “You should be. See, Butler told me all about you and the Carnage Warriors.”
Beth felt like a net was tightening around her heart.
“Don't look so surprised,” Bull continued. “Butler's got no secrets from me. And then you come and drag Hank off on his first day, with some bullshit excuse about bringing him to the warden's office over his pa
perwork. But according to the warden's secretary, you never brought him there, and his paperwork was fine. After the fight, a few of the guys in here saw you go over to his cell for a few minutes. The same guys also say you've been hovering around the door of his cell a lot since then, looking in on him. It doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out that there's something spicy going on between you two.”
Oh fuck, Beth thought. I was so sure I was being careful. What have I gotten us into now?
Bull nodded, as though he could read her thoughts. “Yeah. In a place like this, everyone knows what everyone else is into, and word travels fast. Bottom line: You were sloppy, and you're in deep shit. I own you. I could tell you to strip down to your bare pussy and let me fuck every hole in your body. And then I could do the same thing tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, for as long as we're both in here. And if you refused, I could have Butler turn you in to the cops for the false info on your paperwork. Or I could withdraw my protection from Hank and the rest of the Warriors. Or I could have him killed. Or I could contact my people on the outside and have you gang-fucked and stabbed to death. Or all of the above, if I were in a really bad mood.