TAKING HIS SEED: The Jagged Rebels MC

by Zoey Parker

  He leaned forward, touching her shoulder with his index finger.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Gotta make sure you're really you. Being down here...it does stuff to your thoughts sometimes. You see, hear, even smell things that aren't there.”

  Sarah took Kurt's face in her hands gently and kissed him. The taste of her lips was sweeter than the food had been. They were real, but somehow, they also seemed better than real, like a fairy tale spell conjured from pure sunlight. The walls around him seemed to withdraw, letting in fresh air, big skies, freedom...everything from the outside he'd almost stopped believing in.

  “I told you, I'm real,” Sarah said. “And yes, I think I've got half a plan to break you out of here so we can be together, far away from this hellhole. But first, there's something I need to tell you.”

  Kurt braced himself. He knew this would end up being some cruel trap of the mind, with hope as the bait. As soon as he reached for it, it would spring shut on him, snapping his sanity in half. The lovely mirage of her would fade, replaced by thin air—or worse, Gable.

  “I'm pregnant. And it's yours.”

  Kurt stared at her with his mouth open, trying to process these words. They were literally the last thing he'd expected to hear, and now they echoed in the space between them.

  “Knowing that, do you...think we could still have a future together?” she asked quietly.

  Suddenly, a cyclone of images whirled through Kurt's mind, making him dizzy. He thought of waking up next to Sarah every day for the rest of his life, in a real bed, with the rays from the morning sun streaming in through the window. He thought about the joy of holding a baby in his arms again, comforting it when it cried, playing with it as it laughed. He thought about everything he'd wanted for Alexander—the best, safest, happiest life a child could possibly have—and he thought about being able to make those plans again. To see them through this time.

  Another chance to love a kid again, completely and unconditionally. Another chance at a wife and a happy family. The future that had been stolen from him, returned to him again.

  In that moment, he realized that he'd never wanted anything more in his life.

  “Yes,” he said. “Of course we can.”

  Sarah smiled gratefully, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes. She embraced him, showering his face with kisses until he almost couldn't breathe.

  “Easy, easy,” he laughed. “I haven't bathed in days. Now, what's this 'half a plan' you've got?”

  “It involves something I heard one of the other guards say. There's a theory that the riot that happened here fifteen years ago was organized as a cover for a couple of inmates to escape. After all, if I tried to get you out of here under normal conditions, about a hundred different people would notice. But if everyone were too busy trying to put down a riot...”

  “We could slip out in the confusion.” Kurt nodded. “It's a solid plan. But how do we kick off a riot?”

  Sarah told him what she'd learned about Gable. “Do you think we could use it somehow?”

  Kurt considered it carefully. “Yeah. Maybe. I think I've got an idea. But first, we'll need one more thing to pull it off.”

  Chapter 33

  Sarah

  Before her shift started, Sarah snuck into the men's locker room carefully, making sure no one else was in there. She crept over to Gable's locker and pulled a paper clip from her pocket, straightening it out and fashioning it into a crude lock-picking device.

  Sure, Gable had broken into her locker to plant the drugs. But he hadn't expected anyone to do the same to him, and his own locker was protected by a cheap padlock that was almost pathetically easy to open.

  And with her misspent youth as an honorary member of the Black Dogs, Sarah had picked her share of locks.

  She opened the door, looking for the spare uniform that every guard kept in their lockers. Prisoners could sometimes throw food—or more objectionable substances—at the corrections officers, and it was important for them to be able to change into fresh uniforms so they could finish their shifts. Gable's uniform was meticulously folded at the bottom of his locker, along with a spare name tag.

  Sarah deftly removed the name tag from the uniform, then closed and re-locked the locker. Kurt had been right—if this plan was going to work, securing the name tag was the most important part.

  She briefly felt light-headed at the thought of Kurt. He did want to be with her after all, and he wanted to raise their child together. The prospect of their future together made her deliriously happy...

  ...but no. She had to focus on the task at hand, or else there'd be no future for either of them.

  During her lunch break, Sarah slipped down to the contraband locker, where shivs and other confiscated items were kept. No one guarded this area, since prisoners weren't allowed in this part of River Oak and none of the guards cared about a bunch of junk cobbled together by inmates to kill other inmates. She opened the locker and selected an unused Lullaby that had been taken from a Sinner the previous week. She was careful to wear latex gloves when she touched the handle, and tucked it away in the pocket of her uniform. She had to walk a bit stiffly to make sure the sharpened metal didn't dig into her, but she doubted anyone would notice.

  When it was time for the inmates to go out to the prison yard for fresh air and exercise, Sarah found Carl Davies and pulled him aside. She tried to make sure no one noticed.

  Just looking at Davies made Sarah's stomach turn. The Sinners were still forcing him to wear makeup, and his hair was being held up by colorful plastic flower barrettes, like a little girl's. Worst of all, his eyes were flat and dead, like a crab's eyes.

  “I know you've had a rough time since you got here,” Sarah whispered. “I thought you might like a chance to get some revenge on the Sinners. Interested?”

  Davies stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

  Sarah handed him the Lullaby. “On Wednesday at three p.m., you'll be assigned to work laundry duty with Roberto Torres, the leader of the Sinners. The guard on duty in the laundry room is Officer Fitch. He's an incredibly lazy asshole who spends half his time dozing and the other half jerking off in the bathroom. When no one's looking, I need you to use this to kill Roberto, then stash his body so no one finds it until he doesn't show up for count, and they have to go looking for him. Remember, go for his throat or his heart. Anything lower than that, he could survive and it's all been a waste of time. Then, when he's dead, you put this in his hand before you hide the body.”

  She gave Davies the stolen name tag.

  “I don't understand,” he murmured. “What is this? What's your plan?”

  “My plan is to give you a chance to put down the animal who's been torturing you, without buying yourself a longer sentence or payback from the Sinners. You want it, or not?”

  “Sure,” Davies nodded. “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Good. Just remember, it has to be on Wednesday between three and four o'clock. You kill him at any other time, or you use this shiv for any other reason, and I'll make it my personal mission to ensure that you never make parole. Got it?”

  “Uh-huh. Thanks.”

  Davies hid the shiv and name tag, then waddled off slowly, leaving Sarah to wonder if his broken mind would make him deviate from the plan and ruin the whole thing.

  But when Wednesday came and Roberto Torres didn't show up for count before lights-out, Sarah looked over at Davies and saw him give her an almost imperceptible nod.

  The alarms blared and River Oak was locked down as Sarah joined the other guards in their search for Roberto. Finally, word came in from the laundry room that he'd been found stuffed into an industrial dryer. There was a washcloth stuffed into his mouth, his throat had been slashed from ear to ear, and his genitals had been severed and placed neatly into his pocket.

  And Captain Gable's name tag was in his hand, as though it had been ripped off during a struggle.

  Warden Glass was sum
moned to the scene of the grisly murder, and Gable was called in at once, still wearing his civilian clothes. Sarah stood with the other guards, watching as Glass pointed to the name tag clutched in the dead man's fingers.

  “Captain Gable, what is the meaning of this?”

  Gable stared at the name tag in disbelief. “I don't know how that got there, sir. Obviously, I had nothing to do with this. I was off-duty today.”

  “Really? Then surely, we can clear all of this up as soon as you provide a solid alibi for where you were during the period of three to four o'clock this afternoon.”

  Gable's eyes grew wide, and his face grew flushed as he stammered. “I was...I mean, I...I...”

  You can't, Sarah thought with a flash of righteous triumph. Your alibi is that you were balls-deep in a schoolgirl, you fucking pig. Just like you are every Wednesday once school lets out.

  “I see,” Glass replied tightly. “I'm afraid I'll have to suspend you from duty until all of this has been worked out. We'll take you into custody until the proper authorities arrive. Officer Rodriguez will assume your responsibilities in the interim. But between you and me, Gable, this is one disciplinary hearing I highly doubt you'll emerge from unscathed. A fiasco like this can cost a man his career, and even put him behind bars.”

  Gable was dragged away by a few of the other guards, still spluttering and protesting.

  Sarah smiled inwardly.

  Phase One of their plan was complete.

  Chapter 34

  Sarah

  Over the next few days, Sarah watched patiently as the entire prison descended into a seemingly endless cycle of blood and payback.

  The word among the inmates was that Hawkeye had finally crossed the line. It was one thing for the Brothers to carve up a Sinner or two, but executing their top guy was a step too far—especially when all evidence pointed to the fact that the captain of the COs had done it for them.

  The air in River Oak seemed to crackle with the constant promise of violence, like electricity.

  Rodriguez wasn't a strong enough leader to keep the guards calm and disciplined, and they started lashing out at the Sinners preemptively, trying to show them who was boss before things got out of hand.

  The new leader of the Sinners was a hothead who saw these assaults as proof that Gable had whacked Roberto, so he encouraged them to respond in kind, preparing attacks on guards whenever the correct conditions presented themselves.

  And Hawkeye kept insisting that he hadn't ordered Gable to kill Roberto, that he wanted to broker some truce—but no one trusted him, and he ordered the White Brothers to start stockpiling weapons in preparation for the worst. He was even too busy to order Sarah around.

  Four Sinners were beaten almost to death by COs in separate incidents.

  A Knight had his eyes and tongue gouged out, and died from blood loss.

  A guard was cornered and stabbed to death by a trio of Sinners.

  A Sinner who worked the cafeteria died of third-degree burns when a vat of boiling oil was tossed at him.

  And on. And on. And on.

  Until one day, a fight broke out in cell block D and spilled over into the neighboring blocks on both sides. By the time the guards mobilized to try to take control of the rapidly-escalating situation, half the prison was locked down, and uncontrolled carnage tore through the other half like a hurricane. Glass was cowering in his office with the governor on the phone, and every available corrections officer was called to blocks B through G to try to put down the riot.

  No one was looking at Ad-Seg, one of the few areas of the prison where the inmates were still locked up tight in their cells.

  Perfect.

  While all of the guards were distracted, Sarah hurried down to the hole and hit a few buttons on the keyboard, unlocking Kurt's cell. She jogged down the corridor and swung his door open.

  “It's happening,” she said. “Let's go.”

  Kurt nodded and jumped to his feet, running after her.

  Sarah had mapped the ideal route for their escape. With the riot exploding in the main cell blocks, no one would be anywhere near the gym, or the locker rooms that were off the adjoining corridor. From there, it was just a few short steps to the side entrance the guards used. Then they'd get to her car, use her key card to leave through the officers' parking area, and leave this miserable place behind them forever. Ron had prepared their new identities, which were tucked under the spare tire in the trunk of the car.

  They reached the gym, and Sarah almost fainted with relief. The sounds of the riot could be heard from a distance, even over the screeching alarms.

  Just a few more steps, Sarah thought. Freedom is so close...

  But when they entered the short hallway that led to the locker rooms, they found Hawkeye, Spikes, and Little John waiting for them. Each of them held a pair of shivs.

  “I knew it,” Hawkeye sneered. “I knew you two were behind this shit. I should've had you both killed at the first sign of trouble. But no, I had to show compassion, like some kind of fucking idiot.”

  “Fuck,” Sarah thought. “I should have brought a weapon for Kurt, in case we ran into trouble. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  She slid her baton from her belt. “One warning. That's all you get. Let us pass, or by God I'll beat the brains out of your skulls.”

  “I just watched Wilder get stabbed to death by about a dozen Sinners,” Hawkeye snarled. “He was my best friend in this shithole, and he died so you and your lover boy could run off together and play 'Happily Ever After.' Well, guess what? I'm going to carve my name into your hearts while they're still fucking beating. I'm going to make sure you never leave this place.”

  The three Brothers lunged at them, the blades of their shivs glinting in the red emergency lights. Sarah swung her baton and cracked it against the side of Spikes' head, knocking him out immediately. As she did, she saw Kurt jump on Hawkeye, knocking the shiv out of his left hand and grappling furiously for the one on the right.

  Little John swung one blade at Sarah's face, slashing her left cheek even as the other blade swooped down toward her midsection. She used her baton to parry it, and succeeded in smacking 88's hand hard enough to make him drop it. But he was fast, and his remaining shiv darted toward her torso again. She side-stepped it clumsily, but it came close enough to nick one of the buttons off her uniform.

  You can't stab me there, she thought. You can stab me anywhere else, but motherfucker, you are not taking this baby away from me.

  The knife came in for the kill again and Sarah caught the blade with her left forearm on purpose. She barely registered the pain as she twisted her arm to one side, wrenching the weapon from Little John's fingers. But as she raised her baton to strike, Little John's fist extended with blinding speed, hitting her squarely in the face.

  Sarah felt her nose crunch under the force of the blow, and her head snapped back as stars danced in front of her eyes. She was caught off-balance, and it was just the opening Little John needed to snatch the baton from her hand. Before she'd even had time to process the punch to the face, she felt the hard polished wood of the baton connect with the top of her scalp.

  She sank to one knee, the world around her briefly fading into shades of gray. As Little John raised the baton again, she saw that Hawkeye had managed to wrestle his way on top of Kurt. His weight gave him the advantage, and Kurt grunted as he tried to keep Hawkeye's thumbs away from his eye sockets.

  We're not going to make it, Sarah thought blearily as she waited for another crack from the baton. We got so close, so fucking close, but it's going to end right here in this hallway. I'm sorry, Kurt. I did my best.

  Suddenly, Sarah heard Hawkeye let out a shriek of agony. She looked over and saw him flop over onto his side, bleeding from a half-dozen puncture wounds in his upper back. His eyes were rolling up in his head, and saliva was foaming at the corners of his mouth.

  Bear stood over him, holding a bloody shiv.

  “You get Kurt outta here,” he said.
“I got this. If y'all get a chance to see Ron, tell 'im I'm sorry I let the Dogs down.”

  As Sarah pulled Kurt off the floor and dragged him along behind her, she saw Bear run toward Little John with his shiv. Little John ducked down, reaching for one of the discarded blades. He retrieved it just in time to drive it deep into Bear's jugular, even as Bear stabbed him in the chest and stomach over and over. They collapsed to the floor together, both sticky and slippery with blood, their bodies locked together in the spasms of death.

  Sarah's hand was shaking so hard she could barely get her key card into the slot that unlocked the side door. She and Kurt held onto each other until they made it to her car.