“I’m sorry.” I attempted to smile. “I can’t do that. This is my job.”
“You’re going to be eaten alive here. You know it, too. I can tell by the fear in your eyes and the way your hands tremble.”
His scowl deepened, his knowing eyes digging into me and learning all my secrets.
“Stop it,” I hissed.
“Stop what? Stop telling the truth?”
I stepped away from him, the fear of the truth consuming me. If he knew how weak I was, that meant the rest of the inmates knew it, too.
“What’s your name?” I tried to gain the upper hand and move past his scary words.
The side of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. He’d rattled me and he knew it.
“Fine, ignore my warning, but if you want to make me feel better, Miss Nurse, all you have to do is give my cock a nice, long kiss.”
His crude words rolled around in my stomach, but instead of letting them bother me, I pressed on.
“Name?” I said forcefully, my teeth locked together, making my jaw ache.
He chuckled. “You’re fucking delicious when you’re angry. You know what they say—red on the head equals fire in the hole. I love a hard, angry fuck.” He reached up with cuffed hands and ran a finger over his mouth seductively. “I suppose you should know what to call out when I’m making you come. My name’s X.”
Again, I swallowed my nerves, my eyes scanning the room for the nearest officer. He was being so crude and disgusting, yet somehow, it was completely different from when the men on the block did it. I couldn’t explain how it was different. It just was.
“No. What’s your real name?” I asked.
“I said… my name is X,” he answered through gritted teeth.
My eyes followed his features from his dark eyes to his throbbing jaw. He was obviously not enjoying my question.
“Okay, let’s try this again.” I shifted from one foot to the other and blew a stray piece of hair from my face. “What’s the name your mother gave you at birth?”
His jaw tightened even more. It was so tight I was sure he was grinding his teeth down. His expression darkened even more, and his dark skin reddened in anger. I’d hit a nerve, and I suddenly had the feeling I was about to get attacked. No one pushed X, obviously, and yet there I was, pushing him like an idiot.
He sucked his bottom lip in, closing his eyes as if to breathe away his anger. His nostrils flared and his shoulders tensed.
My flight-or-fight response kicked in. Running away from the big, scary inmate was probably the best idea I’d had all day. But before I could move away from him, his eyes opened and his mask slipped once more, revealing softer eyes—eyes full of pain—full of hurt. I could practically see the sad memories I’d invoked swimming through his mind.
“Christopher Jacobs,” he whispered.
He looked down at the shackles on his feet and his cuffed hands in his lap. I took the moment to breathe. Something had shifted in our little space, and it was as if I were examining two different men.
“Thank you, Christopher,” I said with a smile.
Again, he looked up at me, his eyes taking in my expression before he nodded.
My eyes shifted across the room to Dr. Giles. His face was one full of shock. His brows were dipped in confusion. Obviously, no one had ever spoken to X. Or at least, he’d never spoken to anyone.
“Why are you here today?” I asked, scribbling his name across the top of the form.
“Fighting.” He held out his hands, palms down and flexed his fingers so I could see his knuckles.
The cuffs around his wrists rattled, and he tugged at them a bit. His right hand was covered in blood and his knuckles busted open, revealing the tissue within.
How was it possible to hit someone so hard and do that kind of damage to yourself? I couldn’t imagine being that strong.
After I jotted down a few notes, I placed the clipboard on the table beside the bed. “I need to check you out and make sure you didn’t suffer any other injuries. Is that okay?”
“No problem. You check me out all you want, baby.”
His eyes devoured my face once more, checking for my reaction to his words. I’d never had anyone look at me the way he did. It was unnerving. It was, in a way, flattering, yet it made me uncomfortable at the same time.
I shook my head with disgust and stepped away. Leaving him, I went to the desk and retrieved my stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. When I got back to his side, I realized there was no way the cuff I had was going to fit around his gigantic arm. Instead, I wrapped the cuff around his forearm and placed the stethoscope against his large wrist.
His heartbeat was hard and steady, thumping in my ears as he eyed me suspiciously. The wild strands of hair that escaped my ponytail fell against my cheek, and I felt him shift. As he leaned over me, his breath brushed my ear and cheek, sending goose bumps down my back. He was close, and instead of smelling rotten like the other inmates, his scent was fresh—like the outside air and clean laundry.
I breathed him in, enjoying his manly scent before recalling myself.
What the hell was wrong with me? My actions were unprofessional and completely unacceptable. Not to mention, he was just as rude and perverted as the rest of the men on the block.
Pulling the stethoscope from my ears, I undid the cuff around his forearm. I jerked when his whispered breath skimmed my cheek.
“So how’s the blood pressure?” he asked.
I jolted nervously and stepped away. Again, he grinned as if knowing my thoughts.
I busied myself, grabbing the clipboard and recording my findings. “Good,” I stated in my most professional nurse voice. “Sit tight; I’ll be right back.”
After I left his side, I took a deep breath. I needed to get my shit together, and I needed to do it sooner rather than later. Looking over my shoulder at him, I caught him staring at my ass. His eyes flickered back up to me. If I wasn’t mistaken, he blushed. It was a confusing action. One that I was sure I’d seen incorrectly.
I collected some supplies—gauze, antiseptic, and gloves—and then I walked back over to him. He didn’t look me in the face this time. Instead, he eyed my supplies and held out his hands once I put on my gloves.
I cleaned his large hands, removing blood from them before stitching up the gaping wounds.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” I asked, the words coming before I had a chance to think them through.
I felt him stiffen.
“I have to,” he responded.
“You don’t have to fight. You could walk away.”
He chuckled, a sound that was as dark and menacing as his knowing stare.
“Why is that funny? You think it’s funny to walk away from a fight?”
“You’re clueless, Red. I don’t think it’s funny; I think it’s impossible.”
“How so?”
I flipped his hands over, cleaning some minor cuts on his palms. They were smooth and dotted with calluses, but they were probably the only spot on his body without scars. Apparently, when you kept a closed fist, it protected your palms. I admired how large and strong his hands were as I ran my gloved fingers over them.
The muscles in his arm flexed, making the hard muscle in his forearm pop. Clearing my throat, I tried not to notice how totally beautiful his physical form was. I hadn’t been turned on by a man in a long time. Not since before my dad died. Back then, I was young and able to take time away from the worries of life. But I found myself thinking crazy things when I looked at X’s lean figure and tatted skin.
It was irrational. I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself.
“If I don’t fight, I die.”
I paused and looked up at his face. My eyes moved over his tight features and lingered on the ink that crawled up the side of his neck.
I hadn’t thought about the fact that he could be protecting himself. Who in their right mind would even try to fight such a large and scary creature? I’d always thought X wa
s the instigator. It didn’t make any sense for anyone to go against him without good reason, but evidently, I’d been wrong.
I wasn’t saying he was a saint. Obviously, he wasn’t since he was in prison for multiple counts of murder, but maybe, just maybe, he was protecting himself from the people within the walls of the most dangerous place I’d ever spent time.
I nodded my understanding since I didn’t trust my voice.
As I dried his hands with clean gauze, I slipped back into professional mode and tried to forget the last few minutes of conversation. I couldn’t afford to think of the inmates as anything but chained animals. Softening to these men couldn’t be safe, and I wasn’t about to put myself in any more danger than I already was.
Closing my eyes, I ran Dr. Giles’ warnings and rules through my head again.
Inmates are pros at lying and faking symptoms. It’s difficult, but if you examine the patient thoroughly, you should be able to determine whether they are actually hurt or just trying to earn a reprieve. You’ve already learned how to be a nurse. Now you have to learn how to take care of manipulative and dishonest patients.
I couldn’t let myself be fooled. I had to remember who the man in front of me was. He was a criminal, one I was sure was trying to manipulate me.
Internally giving myself a shake, I cleared my throat once more. “Well, Mr. Jacobs,” I said to him, trying to get our professional relationship back. “You’re all stitched up. Do try to contain yourself from here on out. I’m not sure you have any more room on your body for more scars.”
Again, he grinned. “Have you been looking at my body, Ms. Evans?”
I blushed. I felt it. It was hot and tingly as it rushed over my cheeks and down the back of my neck. I’d basically told him that I’d been staring at his body. I’d all but said I liked looking at his naked chest and strong, supple muscles.
Quickly, I changed the subject. “I’ll get some triple antibiotic ointment, and then you can go back to your unit.”
I turned and fled to the supply closet. Once inside, I pressed my back against the wall and covered my racing heart. This couldn’t go on. I couldn’t continue to treat this man.
I didn’t look him in the face when I returned to his side. I’d patched him up, done my job, and now it was time for him to leave. Putting on fresh gloves, I rubbed the ointment onto his cuts, feeling his eyes cut through me the entire time.
I didn’t breathe again until the COs had taken him from the room and returned him to his cell or to solitary. I wasn’t sure where he was going and truthfully, it was none of my business. Christopher Jacobs, or X, was not my business. I was done even thinking about him, and I’d make sure Dr. Giles knew I wasn’t comfortable treating him anymore.
CHAPTER 7
x
SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING to me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was changing. I didn’t like change. It wasn’t safe to change in prison. You had to stay vigilant, stay strong, and make sure the inmates knew not to fuck with you.
My mind was beginning to wander. It was filling with visions of red hair and emerald eyes—of a slim waist and wide hips—hips that could handle a large man like me. Daydreaming was forbidden in my world. I couldn’t afford to lose focus on daily life. Losing myself in a dream world about a pretty nurse and her perky tits was a sure way to get myself killed.
At night, once it was lights out, I’d pump my cock hard and imagine how sweet she’d sound as she came all over me. I’d blow my load to the imaginary sounds of her in pleasure, and then I’d wake up the next morning hating myself for it. I couldn’t keep this shit up, yet I couldn’t help myself. She needed to go, but I wanted her to stay. It was fucking selfish.
The fighting escalated. I found myself in the infirmary almost every other day versus the usual two times a week. I’d watch her flitter around the room, sweetly taking care of the dirty inmates who stared at her ass and fucked her with their eyes.
It was wrong, but even I allowed myself the privilege of watching her lithe body move around the space. Every time I saw her, she grew more confident in her job. She smiled more at the nicer inmates¸ and the ones who were just there for their meds or to have their blood sugar checked.
The lucky bastards.
Being bathed in her sweet smile was a privilege they didn’t understand. I understood it all too well. It got to the point where I craved her smile, but somehow, no matter how many times I went to the infirmary, she never tended to me. Probably because I was such a sick fuck the last time I spoke to her. I was doing what I had to do to push her away. I hadn’t meant to get so fucking turned on by the dirty talk.
Instead of Red, I’d get stuck with Dr. Giles or on the days when Ms. Evans wasn’t there, I’d get one of the less attractive nurses. Finally, I learned her schedule—four days on and four off. It was twisted, and honestly, it was a form of stalking, but it didn’t matter to me. She became the thing I looked forward to.
She leaned over her desk, her perfect, heart-shaped ass sticking up, and I felt my mouth water. I imagined pulling her scrubs down and fucking her until I unloaded deep inside her. My dick twitched, ready to stand at attention, but once I saw two other inmates eyeing her ass, the anger seeped back in and my dick deflated like a fucking balloon.
One inmate cracked a smile at the other and licked his lips provocatively while the other one rubbed his hands together and pretended to spank the air like he was spanking her ass.
I cringed just thinking about their filthy hands on her perfect skin. The thought of their dirty mouths anywhere near her made my skin crawl with rage—raw and extreme—so hot it made me want to claw at my skin and rip it away from my body.
When she turned back around, her eyes flashed to me and I felt it in my chest. She straightened her posture and continued to care for the two sick fucks who openly stared at her ass and tits. She was clueless to what she was doing to them. Hell, what she was doing to me. Maybe that was why she was so fucking appealing. She didn’t know she was gorgeous.
I wasn’t paying any attention as Dr. Giles, who was cleaning a new cut on my cheek. My eyes lingered on her. I watched as her almond-shaped eyes shifted as she read the paper she was holding. She pressed the tip of the pen against her mouth, giving me a physical reaction.
It was such an innocent act, but just the sight of something touching her plump, pink lips was enough to send my cock standing high.
It was then I learned her name.
“Lyla?” Dr. Giles called out to her.
Her name was Lyla. It was such a beautiful name, and it matched her perfectly.
“Yes, sir?”
“Could you come stitch Mr. X up when you get a second?”
She blanched and her face whitened. Her plump lips tightened, showing her unhappiness with his request. She didn’t want to be near me, and while that should’ve made me happy, it sent a twinge of sadness through me. I’d acted like a douche for a reason, and I’d obviously done a good job, but still, it sucked.
“Sure.” She forced a smile.
She came my way, her eyes never reaching mine, and then she replaced her gloves with a fresh pair.
I sat still, letting my eyes roam over her face as she stitched up my cheek. She didn’t talk to me this time, and as much as I hated talking, I wanted her to. I didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled or how she kept swallowing her nerves. I hated myself in that moment because I knew how uncomfortable she was around me. Me—a murderer—someone not worthy of her smile.
It was bullshit that I was even daydreaming about a woman like her. I gave up the rights to anyone when I decided to lose my fucking mind and decapitate two people.
Looking away from her, I kept my eyes locked on the wall over her shoulder. I was too dirty to even look at her. Too evil to touch her or to even think about it.
Her gloves snapped when she pulled them from her fingers.
“All done,” she said with a false smile.
She had yet to look me in the ey
e, and I decided I was okay with that. It didn’t matter, and it wouldn’t pay to become too attached to someone.
I was taken back to my cell and left there until chow time. I couldn’t keep this shit up, fighting every day just for the chance to see Lyla. If I did, it wouldn’t be long until I was sent to the hole, but then again, it was worth it. Seeing her was like being in the sun, and that was worth being in the dark for a day or two as far as I was concerned.
I’d hear the things the COs would say about her. They’d talk about her ass and her tits. The perverted things they said made my blood boil—made me want to rip them to shreds the way I knew I could.
I hated the fucking COs, most of them anyway. Officer Douglas was an okay dude, but the rest deserved to be ripped apart for even thinking the foul things they did. Especially since the ones talking the most shit had wives and kids at home.
Lying in my bed, I listened as two COs walked up and down the block talking shit.
“She’s got a sweet little ass on her. I bet she could take a mean fucking,” Officer Stone said while swinging his baton.
I’d never liked Officer Stone, mainly because he looked like a pedophile. This fucker wore glasses that looked like they were made in the seventies and had enough grease in his hair to fry a whole chicken. I swear if I found out he drove a friendly van, I’d snap. I could just picture him luring children in with promises of candy and bikes.
I’d heard from Scoop that he was a shady motherfucker. There had even been hearsay about him raping a few of the smaller guys on the block. One supposedly went on to hang himself in his cell with his bed sheets. But that was before I was on the block, so there was no telling if it was even true.
“Yeah, but I hate escorting her. She makes the inmates crazy. It makes me wonder if the warden knew what he was doing,” Officer Parks replied.
“I bet he wants to fuck her, too. That’s probably why the bastard hired her.”
They laughed. The fuckers laughed, and I wanted to rip their faces off. No. I wanted to rip their heads off. I wanted to see their dead eyes glaze over with the shroud of nothingness.
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