Mad, Mad World

by J. D. Sloane

  “No,” Ronan said, his voice calm and considering. “Not those. The ones beneath it.”

  “I don’t know what marks you’re talking about,” Alicia said, brushing her bangs away from her eyes as she pressed her lips together tightly. “And my relationship with Matt is none of your business, Ronan. I’m extremely sorry if I’ve given you any impression otherwise.”

  “What is it with women like you, Alicia? Why do you spend so much time covering up everything that makes you interesting?”

  “I’m not covering up anything. And I’m not the one being put on trial here…”

  “Oh no? What about your clothes, hmm? Hand-picked by your boyfriend I’ll bet. Blue and gray, blue and gray. You should wear red more. The buttoned-up business woman thing doesn’t really suit you. And it’s not precisely to my taste to be perfectly honest.”

  Alicia paused in front of the mirror and felt her temper take an erratic upwards spike as she heard the boredom in his voice, dissecting the way she dressed with enough careless contempt to humiliate her. She looked over herself in the mirror, cringing as she remembered the hours she had spent agonizing over which dress to wear for their first interview and then turned her back on her reflection, her round gold eyes flashing with sudden venom.

  “So, that’s it?” She said, changing her voice until the entire sentence came out in a smooth purr. “Just red and slutty? Are you sure there’s nothing else, Ronan? Nothing I can do to make your stay in prison a little more pleasant?”

  Her face dropped as she bent over to grab her bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes before slapping it hard against her palm.

  “Oh I can think of a few other things,” Ronan said, his low voice curling with amusement. “More than a few actually. Now that you mention it.”

  “God, you really have been in there too long. What do you want, Ronan? Why are you calling me at…”

  Alicia at the clock and let out a quick sigh.

  “At 1:30 in the morning? Just felt like insulting the only person in a world who’s trying to do you a favor?”

  “Maybe I’m bored. Maybe I’m lonely. Who can say?”

  Alicia paused as she heard his voice change and felt her brow furrow as she heard him let out a low sigh, his bed springs creaking as if he had changed position. She tapped out a cigarette and sat down on the chair next to the window, looking out over the balcony as she lit it with a wave of her hand. She curled her leg beneath her, her brow furrowing as Ronan remained silent and rested her hand behind her head as she watched the rain slap against the window, something about the amused emptiness in his voice moving her in site of herself.

  “Is it raining there?” she asked quietly, pulling her hair out of its low ponytail as she rested her head against the back of the chair.

  “No,” Ronan said, his voice low and easy. “There?”

  “Just started,” she said. “It looks like it’s going to go on for a while. The sky is pitch black. I can’t see any stars.”

  “Did you like reporting the weather?”

  “I did. I wanted to be a meteorologist when I was a younger.”

  “Oh? And what I changed?”

  “I don’t know. I guess being a reporter just seemed like the smarter track. More jobs. Less specialized. Easier to go national.”

  “Ever seen a big storm up close?”

  “Too close,” Alicia said, taking a slow drag off her cigarette. “It was too close. Have you ever seen a tornado? In real life I mean?”

  “No. Never. Have you?”

  “A couple of times. My uncle was kind of an amateur weather photographer. That footage you see on the news makes it seem like they’re miles away. But to get a good shot you have to be almost right on top of it, less than a mile away usually.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It is, and it’s also really, really stupid because a tornado can turn on a dime. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. That’s part of what makes them so dangerous.”

  “So why do it at all then? What made you want to see one up close?”

  Alicia rubbed her fingers across her lips, her gold eyes becoming flat and unseeing as they ticked across the ceiling.

  “Don’t know. Just had to I guess. I always loved watching big storms. We all have things designed to insulate us, you know? To make us feel like this modern world gives us some sort of advantage against that kind of perfectly natural destruction. It just takes everything away from you, you know. Once you actually experience it up close.”

  “Experience what?”

  “Just- how wrong we are. How absolutely random our existence is. And how quickly everything can change. All at once and almost completely without warning.”

  Alicia chewed her bottom lip as Ronan cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter as she heard him sigh on the other end, the feeling that he was giving her his sudden undivided attention unravelling her confidence along the edges.

  “Ah. And how are you coming along with my story, Alicia? Is everything adding up into all the familiar, well-known quantities?”

  Alicia’s brow furrowed and she took a drag off her cigarette, swinging her leg restlessly off the side of the chair.

  “There are some…loose ends. I’m still trying to put it all together.”

  “And Dula’s story? How far have you gotten on that?”

  “Not very, to be honest. Matt is giving me some push back. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind about talking about it.”

  She heard Ronan bite back a laugh and heard that whisper of creaks and moans from his bed again, the sound of them together bringing an image of Ronan’s wide dark eyes to the front of her mind, the slow way they had swept over her when he slapped the chain against her back and told her to turn around…

  “Oh, I’d hate to give everything away for you, Alicia. What kind of investigative reporting would that be? But if you want to catch the good warden red-handed you might want to look into some of his earlier success stories. Just. For. Kicks.”

  Alicia sat up a little straighter, flicking her ashes onto the ground and switched her phone from one ear to the other.

  “Success stories? What do you mean success stories?”

  “I mean that this isn’t the first city to see Dula’s holy roller act up close and personal. He’s been perfecting that bit for a while now. And who knows? Could be that some of the poor souls he laid hands on might be in the mood for a sympathetic ear right about now.”

  Alicia scratched her cheek and then stamped out her cigarette, reaching for a pen as she pulled a pad of paper out of her purse and flipped to a blank page.

  “What cities? Do you have a name? A former prison? Because I’ve looked into this guy and there is nothing, and I mean nothing, in his resume to even suggest wrong doing.”

  “Oh I…might have a source or two that would interest you. I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to get any reliable information out of them. But they’re names you definitely won’t get from Dula. And at least it’s a place to start, right?”

  “Which job are we talking about? He was a warden in Georgia before here. For five years, looks like.”

  “What’ll you give me for it?” Ronan said, his voice low and relaxed.

  Alicia looked up from her pad of paper, her face twitching with surprised annoyance and then gritted her teeth as she drew a quick angry circle around Dula’s last job.

  “How about a chance to tell the truth?” She asked, her voice sharper than she intended it be as she heard Ronan clear his throat on the other end.

  “Truth is subjective, Miss Gale. And not very interesting from where I’m sitting. What else do you have to bargain with?”

  “Nothing,” she spat. “I don’t have anything to bargain with, Ronan. If you don’t want to help me then don’t.”

  “Alicia, Alicia. You have me all wrong. I enjoy nothing more than helping hard working girls like you get some of the- appreciation you deserve.”


  Alicia let out a low sigh, her stomach doing an uneasy flip at the sudden edge of violence in his voice and sat back down on the chair, her fingers curling around the hem of her long, worn out tee-shirt as her expression tightened.

  “Fine. Tell me what you want then.”

  “How about a photo?”

  “A photo?”

  “See? How’s that for a trade? Not everyone deals from the bottom of the deck. You should learn to be a little more trusting.”

  Alicia bit her bottom lip, her gold eyes narrowing with distrust and then swallowed hard as she heard the springs of his bed rattle, the image of Ronan lying in bed and grinning at her giving her a sudden uneasy thrill of excitement. She brushed her hair behind her ear, suddenly conscious of her fresh washed face and ratty tee in a way that made her blush.

  “What kind of photo?”

  “Why any kind you like, Alicia. The more inventive the better. But you are going to need to be naked in it. And on your back.”

  Alicia felt her nipples harden as she heard him pause as if considering it carefully for a moment.

  “Legs apart,” he said finally, his voice suddenly low and interested.

  Alicia got to her feet as he went silent again and felt the sudden hungry certainty that he was stroking his cock as he was talking to her, waiting for her impatiently as she tried to decide what to do.

  “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

  “You don’t. But believe me, no one in the circles you travel in are going to have the information I do on your boyfriend’s big ten frat buddy. When it comes to burying his past, Dula is a man after my own heart.”

  Alicia stood rooted to the spot in front of her vanity, her gold eyes wide and uncertain as she shifted the phone from one ear to the other.

  “So?” Ronan asked, his low voice almost painfully polite as she glanced over her shoulder, the rain pattering against the door wall in a sudden slap. “What’s it going to be?”

  Alicia reached for her brush, touching the ends of her wavy blond hair restlessly and then turned her back on the mirror and leaned against the vanity as she shook her head.

  “Absolutely not,” she said, her voice low and curt as her shoulders twitched with annoyance. “I have no way of knowing where a picture like that would end up. And you know it.”

  “Trust, trust, trust,” Ronan said, the low note of irritation in his voice making it sound rougher than it usually did. “You have a little problem with that, don’t you?”

  “I don’t understand why you keep playing these games, Ronan,” Alicia said, gripping the phone tighter as she paced in front of the window. “Giving me your source helps you. It will give people one more reason to believe what you’re telling them…”

  Ronan made a low noise of annoyance and then whistled lightly as he cut her off.

  “Oh, I think we’ve already established that you’re not all that interested in helping others, Miss Gale,” he said, his voice suddenly so calm and relaxed it came out sounding like a caress. “So I guess the only question you really need to ask yourself is how much do you want to help yourself?”

  Alicia paused in front of the door wall as she pressed her lips together, the rain and the darkness turning the entire window pane into a giant reflecting glass.

  “I’m not sending you a photo,” she said, watching her shadow self flicker in the glass as the lights stuttered behind her and then went still.

  “Suit yourself,” Ronan said slowly, his gravelly voice suddenly amused and careless as she heard the bed springs creak again. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

  “Tell me their names, Ronan.”

  “Ah, ah, Alicia. No risk, no reward. You know better that that. And wear something red the next time you visit. Don’t ask me what. I want it to be a surprise.”

  Alicia looked down at the phone as it went dead in her hand and started to delete the number from her history before brushing her thumb over it instead, her gold eyes narrowing as she reached for a pen.

  Chapter Four

  Ronan glanced around Dula’s office, his eyes bright and restless and smiled as he noticed that his expensive glass desktop was suddenly and conspicuously empty, the expression inching his face into something almost beautiful. He looked towards the door as he paced around it, knocking at the glass with his knuckles, and then tugged at the center drawer with the tips of his fingers, his grin widening as he realized it was locked tight.

  Looks like Lincoln’s absence is already being felt throughout the yard, he thought whistling cheerfully as he stepped closer to the window over the courtyard. Almost a shame really. What will the boys in D Block do without their number one cheerleader?

  He glanced over his shoulder as he heard someone unlock the door, his face smoothing out into a mask of polite disinterest and watched Marlon wheel a metal tray into the room with one hand. Ronan shifted his eyes over it casually, cocking a brow in his direction, and then turned back towards the window, his face filling with a kind of patient, well-controlled irritation.

  “New party favors, Banks? You shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything at all.”

  He tracked Banks’ reflection in the window, his dark eyes narrowing as Morlan shook out a matched set of cuffs, fastening one to each arm of the chair in front of the desk.

  “Yeah,” Morlan said, meeting his gaze nervously as Ronan raised his brows. “Sorry about this. After the other day, Dula is having us strap everyone down in here when he’s alone with them.”

  “Can’t say that I blame him,” Ronan said, his low voice almost friendly. “Security in this place is not what I would call top notch. But then maybe Dula knows something that I don’t.”

  Ronan watched Banks pause near the side of Dula’s desk, not quite daring to ask him to sit back down. He bit back an amused smirk as Morlan cleared his throat and wandered back over to the chair, rolling his shoulders slightly as he sat down.

  “Cuffed and drugged?” He remarked, his voice low and amused as Morlan snapped his cuffs into place and then tied a rubber band above his elbow, tapped his veins with the back of his hand. “That sounds a little discriminatory. I’ve practically been a model prisoner on this block. Give or take a few. Minor. Indiscretions.”

  Ronan sat back in his chair, easing his legs apart casually as Morlan struggled not to stare, the furtive way he did it reminding him all at once of Donnie and the way he would look at him sometimes whenever he thought he wouldn’t notice. Ronan’s expression hardened as he realized that it was one of the primary reasons he had always trusted him to keep his place, even from the very beginning. It was also one of the many, many reasons Ronan had never bothered to pull his punches with him, something he could admit in retrospect was a bit of a blind spot without ever actually regretting it once.

  “This is getting risky.”

  Ronan glanced up with more interest as Banks threw a quick look over his shoulder, his smooth tanned face uncharacteristically tense.

  “Is it?” Ronan asked, as Morlan flicked the syringe with his fingers a few times. He rolled his eyes towards his elbow as Morlan slid in the needle, watching the blood fill the syringe with a placid kind of annoyance and then raised his brows as he pulled it out carefully, covering it with a clean stack of towels.

  “It’s not just switching the pills anymore,” Morlan said, pressing a ball of cotton against his skin to stop the bleeding. “He wants you dosed manually. “I’ll try to make up some in advance, but this place is all kinds of locked down. There are cameras everywhere. Eventually he’s gonna find out.”

  Ronan blinked at him, his temper skyrocketing so quickly that he curled his arm, watching the white patch of cotton darken with his own blood.

  “As long as he doesn’t find out from you I wouldn’t worry about it much,” he said, his voice smooth and careless. “What did you end up switching it out with?”

  “It’s saline,” Morlan said, sighing. “Just saline. And I didn’t
switch them. These were already made up when I got there. By that new nurse. Kenny.”

  Ronan bit back a smirk and then gave Morlan a magnanimous shrug.

  “You see? Luck is on our side, Morlan. Don’t look so dispirited. Have you heard anything from Alek yet?”

  “No,” Morlan said, clearing his throat. “It’s a little more complicated since your friend got locked up at County.”

  Ronan followed his gaze as Morlan shifted uneasily in front of him and then glanced over his shoulder as if only just realizing how badly things could go for him in a very short span of seconds.

  “Oh really? That surprises me. It’s not like Alek to turn away visitors. Especially when they work for me.”

  “Getting in isn’t the problem. It just- leaves him wide open. Anything happens here, he’s the first one who gets burned. The police go right to his old lady’s house and bam! That’s it. Game over.”

  Ronan rapped his fingers along the arm of the chair, moving within the shallow seven inches of motion the cuffs allowed so naturally they barely made a sound.

  “Hmm. That does sound dangerous. But before he passes on the job completely, you might just want to ask him who he thinks will show up at his wife’s door if he doesn’t. I’d really hate to have to farm this out to someone who was less personally invested in her safety. Just something to consider. A little food for thought.”

  Ronan raised his hand to his shirt pocket and held up a small sheet of paper between his fingertips, whistling lightly as Morlan blinked at him.

  “What’s that?”

  “Shopping list,” he said, his low, gravelly voice flat and friendly as Morlan plucked it from his hand and scanned it swiftly. “And I’ll need those first two items pretty much immediately. The other you can just mail to the address listed. It shouldn’t take more than a week.”

  He rubbed his brow, glancing back towards the hall and then gave Ronan a small grimace, his desire to leave the room almost palpable.

  “What is it?”

  Ronan leaned forward in his chair, resting his hands on his knees and gave Morlan a sudden unpleasant grin, something dark and unchained sliding behind his ruined, too handsome face.