Guarding Secrets

by Pat Tucker

  Dear Reader:

  If you’re looking for a read that will deliver you a glimpse of life behind prison walls that’s full of drama, you will find that and more in Pat Tucker’s Guarding Secrets.

  DaQuan runs a gang inside the Jester unit of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice where contraband abounds, correctional officers are corrupt, and sex is plentiful. This leader is feared by all as he uses his power to make demands from his prison soldiers. And he’s a ladies man among the female COs. But things heat up once his main lover, KenyaTaye Dunbar, is threatened by newcomer Charisma Jones. With this challenge, KenyaTaye is determined to exact revenge on the two, as in her eyes, no one is allowed to break her bond. She refuses not to be replaced.

  Pat’s novels Daddy by Default and Party Girl focus on legal issues surrounding paternity and Texas laws, and this time, she takes readers to new heights in the twists and turns in this lockdown drama.

  As always, thanks for supporting myself and the Strebor Books family. We strive to bring you the most cutting-edge, out-of-the-box material on the market. You can find me on Facebook @AuthorZane or you can email me at zane@eroticanoir.com.

  Blessings,

  Publisher

  Strebor Books

  www.simonandschuster.com

  Thank you for downloading this Strebor Books eBook.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I remain honored to be able to once again, give gratitude for all of the blessings bestowed upon me. I thank God for his continued favor . . . As always, unlimited appreciation goes to my patient and wonderful mother, Deborah Tucker Bodden; my lifelong cheerleader, and the very best sister a girl could have, Denise Braxton; my patient and loving husband, Coach Wilson, thanks for your love, and support. I’m a handful, but Coach is in it for the long haul and he understands: the good stuff never goes on sale! I’d like to thank my handsome younger brother, Irvin Kelvin Seguro and Amber; the two best uncles in the world, Robert and Vaughn Belzonie…

  Aunts, Regina, and Shelia…, my loving and supportive family in Belize, Aunt Elaine, Therese, my cousins, Patrick, Marsha, and Cassandra, and the rest of my cousins, nephews, nieces, and my entire supportive family including my older brother, Carlton Anthony Tucker, who hustles to sell my books to anyone who will listen and buy a copy! If you know me well, you know I’m a walking poster girl for my beloved Sorority, Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc., but my love goes even deeper for my Sorors, Miranda Moore, Nikki Brock, Karen Williams, Jeness Sherell, Gloria Shannon, Keywanne Hawkins, Desiree Clement, Yolanda Jones, and the rest of those exquisite ladies of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority Inc. and especially all of my sisters of the Glamorous Gamma Phi Sigma Chapter here in Houston, TX. I’m blessed to be surrounded by friends who accept me just the way I am. ReShonda Tate Billingsley—Thanks for your constant support, listening ear, and unwavering faith in my work. Victoria Christopher Murray, your kindness, giving heart, and willingness to help others are the truth! Special thanks to my agent, Sara, and a world of gratitude to my Strebor family, the dynamic duo Zane, and Charmaine, for having faith in my work. Special thanks to the publicity Queens led by Yona Deshommes at Strebor who help spread the word about my work.

  Again, I saved the very best for last, ______________ (your name goes there!) Yes, you, the reader! I’m so honored to have your support—I know you are overwhelmed by choices, and that’s what makes your selection of my work such a humbling experience. I will never take your support for granted. There were so many bookclubs that picked up Daddy by Default, Football Widows, Party Girl, Daddy’s Maybe, and A Social Affair, I wanted to honor some of you with a special shout-out: The bible of AFAM Lit: Johnnie Mosely and the rest of the wonderful men who make up Memphis’ Renaissance Men’s book club, Sisters are Reading Too (They have been with me from day 1!!)

  Special thanks to Divas Read2-Happy Hour-Cush City-Girlfriends, Inc.-Drama Queens-Mugna Suma-First Wives-Brand Nu Day-Go On Girl, TX 1-As the Page turns-APOO, Urban Reviews, OOSA, Mahogany Expressions, Black Diamonds, BragAbout Books, Spirit of Sisterhood, and so many more, I appreciate you all! If I forgot anyone, and I’m sure I have, always, charge it to my head and not my heart. As always, please drop me a line at rekcutp@hotmail.com or sylkkep@yahoo.com I’d love to hear from you, and I answer all emails. Connect with me on Facebook, and follow me on Twitter @authorpattucker-I follow back! And I love taking pics…mostly selfies, so check me out on IG as well.

  CHAPTER ONE

  KENYATAYE

  I always said I’d rather slice my own wrists with a butter knife than give head. Yet here I was. On my knees, I struggled to stay focused. It was hard because my knees throbbed and my jaws hurt. But that ache was nothing compared to the intense pain I felt in my heart. Still I worked.

  I wanted him to feel good.

  When he finally exploded, I exhaled, and fell back onto my butt. I used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth.

  “Daaaymn, ma! That was good. You the best, ma.” He groaned, and sounded spent.

  For a long time afterward, all you could hear was us breathing loudly and heavily in the small, dark, area. That was the only sound until I mustered up the courage to say what I had practiced in my mind.

  It wasn’t easy for me because I loved DaQuan Cooper like I loved my right arm. But DaQuan only loved himself—and money.

  “You know what, DaQuan; you a good-for-nothing liar and a low-down cheat, a straight-cold heartbreaker.” My chest tightened, but I sucked in some air, drew my eyebrows together and blurted out the rest of the words I’d been dying to say. “I don’t even understand why I let you do the things you do to me.”

  When I glanced up into his shifty eyes, he didn’t seem the least bit pressed by my words. He looked like he was still lost in bliss, but his pleasure was just that, his alone. He didn’t give a damn about whether or not I was satisfied.

  A few tears gushed from my eyes and I felt even worse. I quickly wiped them away. I cringed inside and wanted to crumble right there on the floor. He had gotten his, was completely satisfied, but I still felt empty.

  “Aww, c’mon, ma; you don’t mean none of that.”

  He touched my chin and lifted my head. Those intense eyes locked onto mine and I felt completely trapped, stuck like I was attached with super-strength Krazy Glue. I stared into his eyes.

  Was there a slight trace of something in those eyes? I wanted desperately to see some love there, but deep down, I knew there wasn’t.

  My brain was confused; even though I was mad, the way he looked at me still made me feel warm all over. There was something intense and electrifying about our connection. The thrill of it all made my stomach churn.

  His cool and calm demeanor was just the right amount of swagger that drove me bananas. All of a sudden, my anger seemed like it was about to melt. Now, all those things I’d said, felt stupid and pointless.

  He was everything! In all my twenty-eight years, I ain’t never loved a man the way I loved DaQuan.

  I shook the traitorous thoughts from my head.

  Stay focused! I silently coached myself.

  Enough was enough! It wasn’t gonna work this time. His intense eyes that pulled me in, his touch that made me happy. I was sick and tired of him and his bullshit. I’d risked everything for him. Everything, and he couldn’t care less.

  “My family and friends all tell me I should leave you alone. This thing has gone way too far.” My voice was shakier than I wanted, but those words had to be said.

  He
didn’t say nothing. Instead, he swung his leg over my head and got up from the makeshift bed. He grabbed an old rag, wiped at his crotch, then tugged on one side of his underwear and pant leg. He balanced himself on one foot, stepped into his clothes and pulled them up.

  DaQuan moved away from me, but his essence was still on the tip of my tongue.

  The air in the room was thick. It was a mixture of sex, tension, and cleaning products. But it was like I was the only one who noticed or even cared.

  “I ‘ont know why you let them thirsty bitches get in yo head like that. They ’ont know nothing about us and how we carry it, ma.”

  He had turned his broad back to me, and I was annoyed.

  “DaQuan—”

  He adjusted his clothes and moved toward the door, like he didn’t hear me call his name. I sat frozen, on the floor, unable to move. I needed a moment to get my shit together.

  There was no way I could go back out there with nothing solid from him. I needed to hear him tell me he loved me. I had practiced those words for weeks. I thought about if they were too strong, or if they’d be enough to get a response, but I never considered there would be nothing.

  I expected so much more from him.

  Suddenly, tears poured from my eyes like a busted faucet. It was like I had lost all ability to control my emotions. And he still couldn’t care less; he didn’t give a damn. The bottom line was, to him, I was just another one of his workers, plain and simple. He walked out of the closet and left me alone with my tears.

  • • •

  Hours later, I sat inside the guards’ booth and thought about ways to get things back on point with me and DaQuan. My mood was foul because he wouldn’t act the way I wanted him to act. There was no doubt that he ran the place and could do whatever he wanted, but I needed him to make it clear that I was his number one. Damn the rest of ’em. In a prison, possession was everything.

  My mind was so deep in thought, I nearly missed Edwards and Bishop when they bounced into the booth.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Correctional Officer Diane Edwards asked.

  We all wore the standard issue uniform; black pants, white shirts, with a belt and steel-toed boots. But Edwards always flipped her collar. She starched it so that it would stand up all day.

  She had a gum-bearing smile that was too big for her small face. Despite her slim and lanky frame, as a correctional officer, she had no problems with respect from the inmates.

  Quiet Jane Bishop, on the other hand, was thick and considered mean unless she liked you. The three of us rounded out DaQuan’s A-team, with two other officers, Richard Swanson and Billy Franklin. The females held it down during the day and the guys acted as our backup. He had another crew that worked the night shift.

  “Nothing. I’m cool. Just been feeling kinda sick lately,” I said.

  “Oh?” Edwards’ eyebrows went up.

  I playfully swatted in her direction as if to knock what she implied into a lie.

  “Don’t start that mess, with me, D,” I said.

  She pursed her lips and raised both eyebrows.

  “Whaaaat? I ain’t sayin’ nothing!” Edwards said.

  Bishop stepped closer. “Hey, let’s go check out the newbies. They’re wrapping up their last session before they get their assignments.”

  I swirled my chair around. “Do we get anybody this go-round?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I wanna say two,” Bishop said.

  “Let’s go mean-mug ’em real quick,” Edwards said. “It’ll help you feel better.”

  DaQuan had left me in a sour mood, but the last thing I wanted to do was alert my girls to trouble between us, so I shook it off. Maybe checking out our new underlings would help me feel better. If nothing else, it would take my mind away from my complicated situation with DaQuan.

  “Where they at? And who’s teaching the class?” I asked.

  “C.O. Owens got it this time. C’mon, let’s roll,” Edwards said.

  I followed them to the part of the building with the classrooms, and we slid inside just as the group was getting up for a fifteen-minute break.

  “I need some water; let’s go into the break room.”

  Edwards and Bishop followed me into the break room where a few of the new hires hung out.

  New correctional officers always brought new and interesting twists to the job. I hoped we’d get some team players this time around.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHARISMA JONES

  “Cha-ris-mah? Umph, where’d you get a name like that?”

  The question broke my concentrated train of thought and pulled my focus away from the dreary gray walls inside the windowless room. The room smelled dank like mold had grown somewhere close by, and the constant hum from the appliances irritated me. My eyes quickly grazed over the woman who had asked. I didn’t try to hide my irritation.

  It was a common question, so I was used to people asking. Still, I allowed my cold gaze to travel up her thin body, stopped at her name tag that read Bishop, and continued up to her handsome face.

  Why was she so perplexed by my God-given name in the first place? Why couldn’t people ever mind their own damn business?

  I wasn’t trying to make new friends. My circle was small for a reason and I wasn’t about to change that just because I was new to the job.

  “My daddy named me after this chick he loved.”

  “Oh, yo mama?” she asked.

  “No. His chick on the side.”

  Bishop’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth fell open.

  I gulped down the remainder of my water from the paper cup, crumbled the cup, and tossed it into the wastepaper basket. I shrugged, then turned to leave. Her expression was still frozen with her mouth agape.

  By the time I’d made my way back to my seat, I was more than ready for the break to be over. This was not a social gathering and I wasn’t under the false impression that it was. I was there because I desperately needed the job, and that was the best I could do for the time being.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Bishop and another correctional officer as they strolled by, whispered to each other, and another woman. They all turned and looked at me.

  I rolled my eyes as I fell onto the chair and hoped the fifteen-minute break was the last for the day. I was in the final part of a mandatory training class for my new position at the Texas Department of Criminal Justice’s Jester Unit, a prison of about 300 inmates, and I was already tired of what I was certain would be an uninspiring, dead-end job.

  But what choice did I have? It was all I could get and I’d been lucky to get it.

  A hot wave of humiliation washed over me every time I thought about the fact that I even had to accept this position.

  We needed to wrap up training and get on with the job. This is not what my life was supposed to be. I had actually gone to college, for Christ’s sake! When the instructor finally moved to the front of the room, I was relieved. We needed to wrap this up.

  Sweat made his white uniform shirt look more like the color pink as it stuck to his skin. Every few seconds, he swiped his hand through his greasy, dirty-blond hair and sweat ran down the sides of his head. C.O. Owens looked down at a piece of paper on his desk, then began.

  “This is the start of your career in law enforcement. You are not here to make friends; you are here to help keep an eye on people who could not obey the law. They are the bad guys.”

  Beefy fingers went through his hair again.

  “There’s a very thin line between being the guard and the animals being guarded. If you break the law, you will be brought up on charges, and you will turn into the animals being guarded.”

  Owens walked to the edge of his desk, pivoted, then walked back again. I could’ve sworn some sweat went airborne when he turned. But that might have been my imagination because I was bored. I adjusted myself in the chair and struggled to focus.

  “Please, if you forget everything else I tell you, do not forget you are not here to make friends.
This is the jungle.”

  The more he moved and talked, the more sweat poured from his hairline and down over his face.

  “In here, it is a them against us mentality. You already know, misery ain’t happy unless it’s got some company, and these inmates will try each and every day to drag you down with them. They’re lonely and they want company.”

  He paused, exhaled and looked around the room, then asked, “Does anyone have any questions?” He stopped at the desk again, looked at a notepad, then back out at the group. When no one raised a hand, he looked back at his paper and continued.

  I sighed hard.

  “You are not here to socialize or fraternize with inmates. If you’re looking for a date, this ain’t the place. You want to mingle with these guys, or hook up these guys, or go into business with these guys, get ready to go to jail. It is illegal for you to carry on a relationship, any kind of relationship, with an inmate confined to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.”

  Once again, he paused like we needed time to digest what he’d said.

  “You’ve been warned. Especially you women,” he said, then snickered. He pulled at his uniform shirt. “This uniform is a target; they will be out to get you. You will hear endless sob stories. They will compliment you, flirt with you. They will say, and do, whatever they can to get you to break the rules because their lives are miserable, and they have nothing but time on their hands.”

  He walked again.

  “If he’s so handsome, and so incredibly irresistible, and you must have him because your pathetic lives just don’t lead you to anyone in the free world, wait until the sorry bastard is done serving his sentence!”

  He snapped his fingers. Once again, he looked around, then asked, “Do any of you have any questions?”

  When no one said a word, he looked down at his paper again. “Well, since none of you have questions, you know the rules. You’ve been warned. There are a couple of lists near the door. Check them for your name and number; that’s gonna tell you your assigned department. Some of y’all already met some of your new coworkers. Be on time, learn the ropes, follow the chain of command, do what you’re supposed to do, and you’ll be fine.”