by Ray, Marika
I shook my head. “Not too sure just yet. But I do know one thing. I gotta make an official Wall of Shame in the break room. Keep all our most interesting guests up there for us to remember fondly. Too bad I didn’t get a picture of that little scuffle.”
He snorted. “I got a new idea for a tattoo…”
He peeled off to go down another hallway as I went up the stairs, laughing in earnest now. His receding laughter bounced off the concrete walls. Damn. It had been quite a day and it wasn’t even lunchtime.
Once in my office, I sat down in my chair and spun to the window. From my second-floor office, I had a nice view of Brinestone Way. I could just make out the bustling downtown area with, you guessed it, Main Street going right through the middle. What Auburn Hill lacked in creativity of street names, they’d made up for with their preoccupation with new businesses. The private prison had just opened, but I’d heard the fertility clinic and Cat Society had been open for six months or so. I could see new development sights in different stages of building. According to the mayor, Auburn Hill would be a bustling city within the next few years.
I hoped he was wrong.
I’d had enough of the big city having grown up in the Bay Area my whole life. I took the warden job because it was a promotion, but also because it offered a new rural life for me. I was done sitting in traffic jams for hours just to get home every day. Never knowing my neighbor’s name because we hadn’t actually talked. I wanted a community. A place to grow roots and crack open a beer while I sat on my porch and counted the fireflies. A pretty lady every so often and my life would be set.
Movement out of the corner of my eye halted my thoughts. I leaned forward to see a woman, possibly a nun, sitting in the patio area in back of the fertility clinic. She wasn’t the front desk girl I’d seen first thing this morning as I deposited my sample. That girl would be a beauty one day when she was older. This lady, the one covered from neck to knee and sporting a severe bun, wasn’t what I’d call beautiful. She appeared wound up tighter than an asshole in the group prison showers.
She shooed off a couple seagulls perched on the retaining wall in the very back. Then she sat in one of the two deck chairs and opened a lunch bag like she was back in elementary school with the meal Mommy had prepared for her.
She pulled out a thermos, spooning out what looked to be soup.
“Oh, dear God,” I muttered.
She had a napkin. Same color as her thermos.
I rolled my eyes and spun away from the window before I died of boredom. This town, man. It had all the small-town elements I wanted, but I was still undecided about the citizens. I’d only met a few in the two weeks I’d been here, but damn, I was hoping the night life might spice things up enough to be tolerable.
Back to my inbox, back to getting this prison set up properly for full function.
* * *
I stepped out of the shower, letting the steam billow around me as I ran a towel through my hair and then wrapped it around my waist. My hand swiped through the fog on my mirror enough I could see my reflection. I may be thirty now, a far cry from my fraternity days, but I still had it. Six-pack abs and a chest of steel. The ladies seemed to like my arms, so I’d be sure to wear a shirt tonight that hugged the biceps nice and tight. You know. As a favor to any of the women at the bar tonight. Little eye candy for the locals.
I’d made it through day one of the prison being open. It was late for a Monday, probably already eight o’clock, but I needed to blow off some steam. I wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. Being the new guy in town and without a date for the night, I could have just taken myself in hand and rubbed one out, but quite honestly, the thought of that took me back to the damn fertility clinic and killed my desire. Hopefully, that experience wouldn’t turn into some PTSD shit that took masturbation off the menu permanently. I shivered at the thought.
Stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway, I went to my bedroom and dug through my drawers for jeans and a T-shirt. Most of my clothes were unpacked, but the kitchen was a disaster. Boxes littered the floor and I sure hoped I got all the cold foods into the refrigerator. I’d know by the smell in a few more days if I hadn’t. The little rental house was perfect until I figured out where exactly I wanted to live in this town. Maybe six months or a year under my belt on the new job and I’d take the plunge to put down roots in the form of my first mortgage payment.
I figured I’d grab some greasy fish and chips at Hell’s Tavern tonight and wash it down with a beer. Perfection. And if there happened to be a pretty lady in attendance, I’d simply introduce myself to be neighborly. Isn’t that what they did in small towns?
The night air had cooled off considerably, reminding me how close we were to the ocean. I locked my door and headed down the porch stairs to my truck. Crickets created a symphony from hidden locations, but there were no other sounds. I put my hands in my jeans pockets and closed my eyes for a second right there in my gravel driveway.
Silence.
Damn, I’d forgotten what the night sounded like when there wasn’t that constant hum of traffic and people. This. This was what I moved here for.
I opened my eyes and peered up at the sky. Stars dotted the blueish-black canvas, winking at me like they too were delighted to be alive.
My truck engine cranked over as I started it. I almost felt guilty for making noise even though my closest neighbor was an acre away. The house I’d rented had boasted a wraparound porch and I’d leased it sight unseen based on that fact alone. Luckily, it seemed to be in a good area. Just a couple families on either side of me, with plenty of land in between to keep some privacy.
Once I hit Main Street, I had no trouble finding street parking almost directly outside of Hell’s Tavern. The place looked downright old with its weathered wood plank walls and squeaky front door. The windows didn’t offer a view in or out as they held every blinking neon beer sign ever produced.
I scanned the whole place as cops always do, seeing just a few men sitting at tables by themselves. Two younger guys were at the bar with three ladies with them. I sidled up to the other side of the bar’s U-shaped all-wood bar top.
“What can I get ya, son?” A grizzly guy in a black shirt approached, throwing a towel over his shoulder that may have been white at some point in the night. His handlebar mustache looked to be an original, grown long before it was fashionable or badass.
“I’ve heard the fish and chips is good here. Can I get an order of that and whatever IPA you have on tap?”
He nodded and got my beer, moving a little slow, but then again, he did seem a bit on the old side. You could never tell with these biker guys. Could be thirty, could be eighty. I sat on the creaky leather stool and let the old-town ambiance soothe my stress levels.
He slid the frosty mug my way and I didn’t care about anything but that first sip sliding down my throat. Sometimes the only way to salvage a day is to end it with a good beer.
“Rough day?”
I blinked, realizing the bartender was talking to me. I shrugged. “Just got a whole lot better.”
He stuck his hand out over the bar. “I’m Nugget.”
I tilted my head to the side. I didn’t particularly want to get in a fight tonight, so I wasn’t going to comment on that name. “Bain. Nice to meet you.”
“The new warden, right?” He still hadn’t cracked a smile, but I didn’t care. Just keep the beers cold and that was enough of a welcome for me.
“Yep.”
A giggle of feminine persuasion just then interrupted our stimulating conversation. I looked across the bar and found a woman in a small and tight halter top staring right back at me, a gleam in her eye telling me my day was most certainly getting better by the second.
She was hot.
“Don’t even think about it. Sheriff’s daughter,” Nugget attempted to whisper at me. Came out just shy of a shout, but I appreciated the heads-up.
Well, shit. There went that option for the evening. I tore
my eyes away and told myself to settle down. I wasn’t stepping into that kind of mess my first month in town. Guess I’d eat my fish and chips, drink my beer, and get to bed to prepare for day two at the prison. It had to be better than day one. At least I wouldn’t start it off by shooting my load into a tiny cup.
I’d save my search for a lady friend for the weekend.
There had to be a woman in Hell seeking the kind of entertainment I was willing to give.
Hot, sexy, and no commitments whatsoever.
3
Lucille
The refrigerators kept up a steady hum, the kind of white noise that could put you to sleep if you weren’t diligent in your caffeine intake. Thankfully, I’d stopped by Coffee first thing this morning and hightailed it to work before that damn prison bus could run me off the road again. Being late was not a trend I intended to follow.
I didn’t even need to be in the sample room today. I told Keva I was going to clean while we had a lull in appointments, but in fact, I was eyeing that one fridge in the corner like there was a snake in it, ready to jump out at any moment. The thing is, I’d already seen the one-eyed snake yesterday. It was the juicy outcome I was eyeing now.
Might as well have been liquid gold for what I could sell it for on the open market. I was practically gleeful with the number of zeros I could ask for and receive with that physical description attached to his swimmers. Yet part of me felt a bit possessive of his junk too. I’d been there when he’d—well, you know—and that made those swimmers mine, didn’t it? I mean, if you lick the cupcake, it’s yours. If I saw him shoot the load, it’s mine. Right?
His sample was just sitting in the far refrigerator all innocent, like it hadn’t come from the firehouse of the hottest man known to God’s green earth while I’d stood there staring. I didn’t have a firm plan for his sample or anything. I didn’t even know why I was staring at the fridge. I just couldn’t seem to pull myself away, entranced, mesmerized, bewitched.
I replayed the moment over and over, unable to look away, even in my mind. That jaw, that neck, the muscles straining. It all added up to the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed. Hell, it might even spur me on to see what the big deal was with porn.
Feeling the back of my neck, I realized I’d broken out into a sweat just thinking about him. My mystery man.
“You’re ridiculous, Lucy,” I muttered.
I stomped over to the fridge and opened it up with such vigor all the samples rattled on their wire shelves. And there it was, in all its glory. Sample #264.
Yep. Still there.
I slammed the door shut and exited the room before I could do anything crazy. Like touch it. Or open it. Or let it mingle with my frozen eggs.
Instead, I headed for the front desk and did something even crazier: I found his file on the computer, organized by sample number. Just as I was about to click on the sample and open up his identifying details, the front door swung open and the bell rang out like a shotgun. I jumped so high I almost slipped right off the rolling desk chair.
Dammit! I was destined for a heart attack with the way things were going.
“This here the fertile place where I can donate my seed?”
A man stood in the doorway, scratching his belly, his appearance doing nothing to reassure me my fertility clinic would actually make it longer than three more months. The guy wasn’t even wearing a shirt, just a pair of jeans that I could tell had already been bought, worn, and sold in a thrift cycle a few times too many. Sturdy suspenders held up the pants, thank the Lord, but did nothing to hide the belly. He had the graciousness to blush, highlighting the greasy blond hair that had seen better—cleaner—days.
I shot to my feet, sending the chair rolling. “I’m so sorry, sir. No shirt, no service.” I held out my hand to a sign behind me on the wall.
We reserve the right to refuse service.
His hopeful face fell into a pout only a mama could love. “Oh come on now, lady. I need a break. I been in the damn prison since yesterday. I need a few dollars to get me on the road out of town. Your sheriff has a thing against me.”
I nodded sympathetically while I stewed on this information. He spent the night in prison? The damn thing hadn’t been open even twenty-four hours before we got our first recently released inmate beating down our door wanting to beat off for a few measly dollars.
“Oh, I bet he does. He’s not the lenient kind.” I wiped the smile from my face and let that one eyebrow rise real slow like. You don’t work a few years in a hospital as a nurse without learning how to throw your weight around when necessary. “And neither am I. Move along, sir.”
He slapped his thigh with a meaty hand in frustration. The complaints and whining were forthcoming, I could feel it. Time to de-escalate in a hurry.
“Seriously? Can’t you make an exception just this one dang time?”
My hand slid across the desk to pick up the receiver to the phone. In my infinite wisdom, I’d programmed the sheriff’s office into our speed dial. One touch of a button and they’d be alerted to a problem brewing on Brinestone Way.
“I wish I could, but Chief Waldo is set to come do an inspection of this place any minute now. I’d hate for you to have a run-in with the man so soon after your release.”
A little white lie never hurt anyone, did it?
The man’s face turned pale and he backed away, his heel hitting the front door and sending it flying out and then back in to hit him in the backside, bell a’jingling like it was Christmas morning and Santa’s sleigh had arrived.
He spun and ran out the door, his suspenders working overtime to keep him decent as he made his way down the sidewalk. I lost sight of him after he went past the Cat Society.
“Miss Eureka? Is he gone?” Keva poked her head into the front office, having smartly hidden herself away when she first heard the man come in.
I waved her in and she came up behind me. My whole body practically vibrated with rage. And fear, if I was being honest. My dream of owning a fertility clinic was going down the fallopian tubes because of that damn prison, I was certain of it. All my life’s savings went into retrofitting this place and making it a high-class establishment to help the citizens of Auburn Hill create the children they so desperately wanted. Sure, we were a small town, but we had morals and ethics and standards. Inmates flooding the place with sperm was not how I envisioned things.
“I’m so sorry, Keva. That shouldn’t have happened. I’m going into my office now to see who runs the prison and have a word with him or her. In the meantime, if that man comes back, you don’t hesitate. Call the sheriff’s office and get them down here.”
Her eyes opened comically wide. Come to think of it, she wore that expression a lot around here. “What are you going to do?”
My breathing was coming fast and furious. Ideas pinged across my brain as I searched for a way to fix this. A way to still have my dream. My finger found its way to my mouth, tap-tap-tapping out a rhythm against my lips while I thought it through.
Move my clinic to another location? But I’d spent so much money and time remodeling this building into exactly what I’d envisioned.
Petition the mayor to move the prison? Highly unlikely as they’d spent months building the thing and it wasn’t exactly portable.
Take my sign down and go incognito? No, I wasn’t big enough yet to get away with that under-the-radar, knock-the-secret-code-on-the-back-door, Hollywood swanky business.
Coming up with nothing even remotely feasible to solve the problem, I threw my hands out to the side in exasperation.
“I don’t exactly know, Keva, but I’m going to start by talking to the warden next door. He or she has to be a reasonable human being. I doubt they want their newly released inmates to be polluting the town’s semen with DNA designed to produce questionable judgement. Not to say all criminals are bad people, but if the orange jumpsuit fits, you know?”
Keva’s wide eyes didn’t even blink as she bobbled her head up and d
own, agreeing with everything I said. Poor girl looked spooked. I couldn’t have her quitting on me, which she was liable to do if we got any more visitors like Suspender Man.
I nodded once with confidence and spun on my high heel to hightail it over to the prison. The warden and I had a meeting, and come hell or high water, I’d be leaving with a promise to keep his inmates where they belonged.
“Oh, Miss Eureka? Did you need the information on sample #264?”
I froze in my tracks, wondering just how Keva knew of my obsession when I hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about yesterday’s unfortunate—or fortunate, depending on how you looked at it, and boy did I look at it—episode. Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw her squinting at the computer screen and then back up at me, waiting for me to give her instructions.
Oh yeah, I’d been about to break patient confidentiality and look up his name and address for stalking purposes. I guess I could thank Mr. Suspenders for saving me from that mistake.
“No, thanks, Keva. Just close on out of that and call me immediately if there’s an issue with our afternoon appointment. Not sure how long I’ll be gone.”
Hopefully she didn’t pick up on how hot my cheeks were.
While I picked my way across the sidewalk in the warm mid-day sun, I realized I should have called around to find out who the new warden was before stomping in and demanding an audience. That’s what I got for letting my temper get away from me. I was entering the enemy’s territory ill-prepared and emotionally charged.
Surprisingly, I just walked right up to the building and through a glass door without a guard or a single person asking for identification. I guess they figured someone wouldn’t voluntarily enter the prison unless they were innocent. The guilty tended to stay away from places like this unless they were in custody and had no choice in the matter. I couldn’t help but sniff a bit at the sterile environment of concrete and harsh overhead lights as I stepped into the lobby. The place could really use a woman’s touch.