Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  My heart slammed into my ribs so hard that it knocked the wind out of me. Being green-lighted meant someone had money on her head, as in the person who took her out was in for a massive payday. “Who knows?”

  I tried to remain calm even though my body was so tense I was sure it was ready to snap in two.

  “Everyone knows. The first person who succeeds in killing her gets the dough. And X, it’s a lot of fucking money, man.”

  “Who issued the hit?”

  I would find them, and I would squeeze the life from their body. They wanted to turn me into a monster? Well, they’d won. I was going to be the biggest, meanest monster they’d ever met, and I’d kill any motherfucker who thought it was okay to mess with what was mine.

  “No one knows.”

  I ground my teeth together so hard that my jaw ached. Scoop had better not be fucking lying to me. As if sensing my thoughts, he held up his hands in defeat.

  “I’m serious, bro. I have no fucking clue who did it.”

  As I stood from the table, my tray slid off and crashed to the floor. I had to do something to stop this. I needed to get to her and warn her before anything happened.

  Looking around the cafeteria, I could feel the shift in the environment. Everyone knew what was going on, and everyone wanted that money. I could see the thirst in their eyes—the sick desire to end her life and get paid.

  Taking my seat, I waited until the chaos died down. Scoop stared at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had. Once no one was paying me any attention, I stood again, snatching my empty tray from the dirty tile.

  I headed straight for Jose, only he had no idea what was about hit him. He was in deep conversation with his thugs, laughing about something they were whispering about. His goon squad saw me as I approached him from behind, but it was too late. I reared the tray back before crashing it over the top of his head.

  He fell to the floor like a dead fish, and I dropped the tray to my feet. Standing stock-still, I waited to get pummeled. The only thought that went through my head as the rest of Jose’s crew came my way was Lyla. I had to get her out of Fulton. And if getting my ass beaten half to death was the way to do it, then so be it.

  CHAPTER 19

  LYLA

  X WAS A rollercoaster ride—one that turned my stomach inside out and made me fear for my life—and it was amazing, crazy, but so freaking amazing. The terror and excitement of him was intoxicating. Addictive.

  One minute you were scared, looking down the length of him and considering backing out, but the next, it was gut wrenching and exhilarating. As the ride ended, you sat there in a euphoric state and you were automatically ready to go again. And again. And again.

  What the hell had he done to me?

  I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head since my first ride. Feeling him inside me, quivering in pleasure, was indescribable. He filled me, swelled and expanded, pushing my walls and stretching me to my limits, and then I’d shatter, effectively ruining me for any other man.

  I craved my next dose of him at all times of the day. The desire was palpable, thick in the air all around me, and I feared that the other inmates would see it and react. I feared they would sense my arousal and play on it, but luckily, I was able to tuck that part away from the rest of the world and release it with Christopher.

  My shift switch was hard on me, considering I’d spent the day daydreaming about Christopher instead of sleeping. Dragging into Fulton, I cursed the loud bars when they clanked opened and closed, silently praying my night would go by fast. I prayed things would run smoothly.

  So much for wishful thinking.

  The alarms blared, and I cursed them. Deep-seated hate for the freaking alarms moved through me. I’d come to hate them more than my own alarm clock at home. My body was still fighting me, arguing with my new hours. I’d switched to night shifts for the week, and I wasn’t adjusting too well.

  Coffee had become my best friend. Even though I had only been at work for an hour, I was ready to go home. As I yawned, I walked around the desk and waited for whoever was going to be dragged through the doors.

  The past few days a lot of inmates had been fighting, and it seemed that every inmate who passed through the doors looked at me funny. Some stared at me as if I was a prized pig, while others let their eyes roam over my body as usual. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood for any crap. I was exhausted and still half-asleep.

  When the alarms finally stopped, I breathed in a sigh. “Thank God,” I muttered, massaging my aching temples and sipping my coffee.

  Dr. Giles laughed at me. We’d gotten super close since I started at Fulton. In a strange way, he was like a father figure. Giles treated me like a daughter, and I trusted him. I’d even broken down and told him about my instincts when it came to Christopher’s innocence and all the details surrounding his case. He didn’t ask why I was digging, thankfully, but if I wasn’t mistaken, he believed me.

  Christopher was innocent. The more I read over his case and the more I dug deep into the history of those involved, it became clearer and clearer. Charlie had even begun to connect the dots in the case, and it was obvious that the mafia had more to do with the death of Sarah Rizzuto and Michael Welch than Christopher did. The closer we got to breaking open the case, the more excited I became.

  I couldn’t wait until the day he was released from Fulton and we could be together. I wanted him, and it was obvious he wanted me. I didn’t just go around having sex with anyone. I cared about him. Emotions I hadn’t expected to happen had, and every time he looked me in the eye, I knew he felt the same.

  The doors buzzed. Dr. Giles and I stood and waited for the crazy that was sure to come. Five COs entered, dragging Jose Alvarez behind them. It was late and the inmates were at dinner, which was obvious by the splattered spaghetti sauce all over his khakis.

  He was cursing and grabbing his blood-soaked head in agony. I shook my head, not feeling any pity for him. After being at the prison for so long, I was slowly losing all my sympathy for the inmates. Thick skin had taken the place of my soft nature. I’d learned I couldn’t let these men get the best of me whether it was physical or mental.

  I almost turned away since I was sure Giles could handle Jose on his own, but then everything stopped and my heart fluttered when X entered the room. He was bruised and banged up, but I didn’t see any blood. His eyes flickered around wildly until they landed on me. He was wide-eyed and panicked. Something was wrong.

  The officers took their places. As Dr. Giles went to deal with Jose, he motioned for me to go check X. Going to his side, I asked him with my eyes if he was okay. He shook his head, letting me know he needed to get me alone.

  Douglas and Reeves moved from the curtain and took their places by the nurses’ desk while I examined him. The moment they were out of earshot, he whispered into my ear. “You need to get out of here.”

  The words cut through me like a knife. Something in his voice was cold and off-putting. I gazed up at him, taking in the worry on his face. He looked around every few seconds as if waiting for something bad to happen.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked, checking his neck and head before beginning to work down his chest and arms.

  My mouth watered as I lifted his shirt over his head and revealed his hard chest. The memories of how he took me hard and fast heated me from within. His muscles rippled with each bit of movement, and I had to resist running my fingers over his chest and down to the small line of hair that escaped into the top of his pants.

  Ever since our first time, he was all I could think about. I wanted him. My body craved him even more so now. Tiny twinges of desire lit my insides on fire, making my pussy clench and melt. I took a deep breath, letting my fingers glide over his skin, and his eyes softened.

  “Lyla,” he said in annoyed pleasure, covering my hand with his own and stopping my exploration.

  Loosening his hold, I continued to run my fingers professionally over his back, enjoying the feel of his firm
body beneath my touch. My palms slid over his hot flesh, making my stomach tighten with desire. I imagined it was my tongue tasting the saltiness of his skin, and my mouth watered for just a tiny taste of him.

  I wanted to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth. Drive him crazy with my tongue until he exploded down the back of my throat. These were thoughts I didn’t usually have. Actually, I never thought about giving blow jobs, but I wanted to pleasure him the way he had me so many times already.

  Sweat glistened on his skin, making his tattoos look wet. They were strong and bold like the man who wore them. It was a major turn on for me.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice strained full of need.

  “I’m examining you.”

  He swallowed hard, his eyes heating with lust and pent-up desire.

  “Did you hear what I just said, Lyla?” He turned my way, his eyes begging me.

  As I came around the side of him, I examined the bruises that were coming up on his arms and chest again. They were deep and just looking at them made me wince. As I gingerly touched them, he looked at me with tenderness.

  “You’re in danger. Someone knows you’ve been digging in my file.”

  My hands paused, and my heart skipped a beat. I glanced over at Douglas and Reeves to make sure they weren’t paying us any attention. Douglas was on the phone behind the desk, but Reeves glanced my way and cocked a knowing brow.

  “How do you know?” My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, the penitentiary felt way too small.

  “You’ve been green-lighted.” His jaw was tense, the muscle popping out and throbbing.

  The desire to reach up and smooth the tension out moved through me. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means there’s a bounty on your head. Someone’s willing to pay a lot of money to have you killed.”

  Fear.

  It was deep and daunting. It hitched a ride at my heart and rode its way through my veins, filling my body completely until I was sure I was going to pass out.

  Charlie was right. I’d stirred up a shit storm and now I was going to pay for it. I wanted to shut it all out and crawl into X’s arms. Wanted him to hold me and keep me safe, but he couldn’t. He was too busy being locked behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit.

  Again, my eyes scanned the room, landing on Douglas and Reeves. “I’ll be okay. The COs will keep them away from me.”

  His eyes widened, and his head whipped around at me. “Are you fucking serious right now?” he hissed. “The COs are just as dangerous, Lyla. They get paid for shit working at Fulton. I’m talking minimum-wage bullshit. You don’t think they’ll want that money just as bad as the inmates?”

  The truth of what he was saying hit me, and I backed away from him. He looked at the officers and made a fist as if to keep himself from touching me and keeping me there.

  “Lyla, wait,” he said, begging with his eyes for me to stay.

  But I couldn’t stay. I excused myself, suddenly feeling as if I needed to catch my breath. I retreated behind the door of the storage room, dizzy and disoriented. Someone wanted me dead—paying money to have me killed. I worked with thousands of murderers, and now there were dirty cops to worry about as well?

  My mind spun, and I tried to push it aside. My dad’s face popped into my head, and I silently wished he were still there with me. He would know what to do. He would protect me no matter what.

  Dr. Giles entered a minute later, his face etched in concern. “You okay, Lyla?”

  I gave him a smile I didn’t feel and nodded. “I’m okay. Just getting some things.”

  I picked up a batch of gauze and turned to leave to the room, but Giles stopped me with a gentle hand.

  He looked over my face as if looking for an explanation, but I couldn’t give him one. I couldn’t trust anyone anymore. How did I know he wasn’t one of the people who wanted me dead? Sure, we had a great working relationship; one that felt more like father and daughter than doctor and nurse, but money was money, and money made the world go ‘round.

  I went back into the unit, my eyes clashing with X’s, and he begged me with his expression to leave. I knew it was what he wanted, but I couldn’t. Not yet, at least. There was still so much to do. I had to free him, and I wasn’t sure I could do that outside the prison walls.

  His eyes followed me and gave me a tiny bit of comfort. At least I knew there was one person in the room who would protect me. He wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on me. He’d promised me that much.

  I avoided getting close to him for the rest of my shift. I knew what I would hear if I did, and I didn’t want to have to tell him no. I couldn’t quit yet, and he wouldn’t understand that. I wanted to be with him. In order for that to happen, I had to clear his name. If that meant sticking around the prison for a little longer, I would. Even if it meant life or death.

  When he was finally released to go back to his cell, his eyes consumed my face and I felt sick from the amount of worry and fear I saw in his eyes. He looked like a trapped animal. I wanted to go to him, to soothe his worried brow and kiss him sweetly, but I didn’t.

  Instead, I watched him go, shackled and cuffed, secretly hating that I couldn’t keep him with me. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that I felt completely unsafe. He was my safety net, and he’d just been pulled from underneath me.

  THE NEXT MORNING as I pulled into my apartment, I made sure to lock my door and the deadbolt. I usually didn’t worry about the deadbolt, but I felt better once it was secured. I walked through my apartment and checked all the windows. They were locked, and no one had tampered with them. I took a long, hot shower, enjoying the feel of the steam across my back, and I thought of X and the way his eyes had followed me throughout my entire shift.

  He’d watched me like a lion ready to devour his food. It pained me and haunted me, knowing that he was going to spend his day worried about what was happening. I imagined he didn’t like to feel helpless, but in a lot of ways, he was.

  As I emerged from the bathroom, I relished in the fact that I was on night shift. I liked to think there weren’t many killers who were okay with killing in broad daylight, which meant I felt safe alone in my apartment in the middle of the day. I walked to the closet and laid out my nurses’ scrubs for that night’s shift, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank to sleep in.

  Before I closed my closet door, my eyes landed on the box I kept on the top shelf. I hadn’t touched it in years. Reaching up, I pulled it down, feeling the weight of it. I’d forgotten how heavy it was. Laying it on my bed, I flipped open the lock and pulled the top open gently. My fingers moved over my dad’s old service revolver, and the cold steel stung my fingertips. It was a thing of beauty and as long as I had it by my side, I felt as safe as if my dad were there with me, too.

  He loved his gun almost as much as he loved me. When I closed my eyes, I could still hear him talking about it.

  “You have to take care of the things that take care of you, and this gun takes care of me. What happens if I neglect it and I need it? It might not shoot.”

  His words echoed through my head, irony flooding over me as I smiled.

  I needed to take care of the things that took care of me. X took care of me. He protected me, and he had never once neglected me. He had taken a chance warning me, but I couldn’t heed that warning. If they were going to kill me, let them. I couldn’t hide in fear my whole life, watching over my shoulder. I had to stay and help him.

  I picked the gun up and began to clean it the way my dad had taught me many years ago. When I finished, I loaded it and set it in the drawer beside my bed. Having it beside me made me feel more secure and I finally was able to crawl in bed and sleep. Even if my life was being threatened, I had to get some sleep. I had a shift to work, and I had to be on my guard.

  CHAPTER 20

  LYLA

  WORK WAS BORING. There had been a couple of fights and minor injuries, but it was nothing like the past few weeks. As I loaded up my t
ray with insulin and sharps, I felt a cold sweat breaking out across my neck. I usually never worried about making my rounds through the prison, but now I did. Every eye would be on me, and inmates outnumbered the COs fifty to one. Even if I managed to get a trustworthy escort, he wouldn’t be able to hold off someone who wanted to kill me.

  Working the nightshift meant taking the medicine to the diabetics and blood pressure patients. I nervously made my rounds, jumping at every sound and scream I heard. The catcalls continued, but most of them just glared at me through their cages. They were plotting. I could see it in their seedy looks and tightened mouths. They wanted the prize money.

  Douglas was my escort and I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he was a good guy. I’d learned firsthand who the dirty ones were, but Douglas was a sweetheart. He smiled and bantered with me, trying to keep my spirits up and make me feel safe. As we finished our rounds, he escorted me back to the medical unit.

  “You okay, Lyla?” he asked, his eyes studying me.

  “Of course,” I lied. “Why do you ask?”

  “You just seem jumpier than normal.”

  How was I supposed to answer that? Of course I was jumpy. Someone was out to kill me—no—not someone, everyone with the exception of a few. It wasn’t looking good for me, but I had to stay. At least until I could leave with Christopher.

  “Things are just different on nightshift. I guess I’m still adjusting.”

  Douglas patted my arm and smiled warmly. He reminded me of Santa Claus without a beard—all jolly and smiley—he actually jiggled when he giggled. It was kind of funny.

  “I promise you the monsters won’t get you while you’re here. You have my word.” He winked at me as I walked through the doors into medical, making me chuckle and shake my head.