Authors: Sue Lyndon
He patted her backside once, a tender touch, and sat her upright on the bed next to him. His thigh brushed against hers, and she resisted the temptation to curl up against him. She would give anything to be held right now, to be comforted in his arms while listening to the steady beating of his heart. In her daydream, her husband was loving after he punished her, and he held her and stroked her hair until her tears dried up.
“Do you promise to be a good girl in the future, Becca?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. For being gentle, that is.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, her emotions running rampant. This brief interaction with Officer Makin had warmed her heart, but in another way it reminded her of all she would never have. In thirty days the warden would claim her as his bride. The rest of her life loomed ahead, dark and full of pain.
* * *
Hunter stared into Prisoner 343C’s deep blue eyes. Becca. That was her name, and he thought the pretty, feminine name suited her. She was petite with a long mess of dark brown hair, and during the short time he’d been on Block C he hadn’t heard as much as a peep from her. She kept to herself during recreation time, and he suspected she always performed her assigned jobs as well, even kitchen duty. The warden was known to invent various reasons to punish the inmates to feed his sadistic streak, and Hunter took a special kind of delight in circumventing his plans whenever the chance arose.
The warden had arrived at the prison a mere three weeks after Hunter had, and both men had taken an instant dislike to the other. And during the last few years, Hunter had collected enough proof of the warden’s misconduct that if he presented his evidence to the Kemmius high council, the warden could be brought up on multiple charges. Not enough to land him in jail, but enough to jeopardize his final payout at the end of his five-year service contract. All the guards and wardens counted on that payout to help them begin a new life on one of the habitable planets near Kemmius, and because of this, the warden wasn’t stupid enough to cross Hunter.
The slight girl trembled and peered at him with questions brimming in her tear-filled eyes. Hunter stood up abruptly, fearing he would succumb to the urge to wipe her fallen tears away. He was surprised she’d cried so much considering the light punishment he’d given her. The warden would’ve raised welts upon welts with that brutal strap of his.
“Are you all right, Becca?”
She nodded.
“How old are you?” he asked, thinking she looked barely old enough to travel through the Interstellar Port without an adult chaperon. He didn’t know the reasons for her prison sentence, but if she was on Kemmius, it was probably because she’d committed a crime under the port authority’s jurisdiction. Only a handful of women had been sent to Kemmius from Earth thus far, usually when the American or Russian prisons became too overcrowded.
“I-I am twenty-one, sir.”
“How long is your sentence?”
“A lifetime. Well, except…” Her voice trailed off and her face crumpled.
“Except what?”
She wiped at her eyes and met his gaze with a look of resignation. “The warden’s five-year service contract is up in one month. He’s planning to make me his… his…” A heart-wrenching sob burst from her. She covered her face and wept into her hands.
She didn’t have to finish her sentence for him to know what she’d been about to say. The warden intended to take Becca as a bride during his payout. The bastard.
Hunter saw red as his mind conjured up all the horrid, nasty things the warden would do to this poor young girl. He pulled a handkerchief from his uniform shirt pocket and drew her hands from her face, giving her the faded blue cloth and nodding at her with an encouraging smile. She accepted the handkerchief and began wiping away her tears.
“He’s going to name you as his wife, isn’t he?” Hunter sat next to her again, damning the cameras that were recording their every move. He didn’t care. He had one week left in this shithole, and then he would be on the other side of the star system on a secluded island he planned to purchase on the scarcely populated planet Merro. With all the dirt he had on the warden, he could get away with erasing this evening’s recordings.
“Yes, sir.” Becca stared at the wall ahead and clutched the handkerchief.
“Has he ever raped you, Becca?” Hunter hoped the warden hadn’t violated her in this way, but at the same time if he had, it might be possible to gather enough evidence against him. Sex outside of marriage was outlawed on Kemmius and on most nearby planets, and any prison employee caught having intercourse with an inmate had their service contracts terminated and charges brought against them.
“No,” Becca said, her eyes dropping to her lap. “He’s threatened it, but he’s never actually done it.” She straightened, now much more composed, and offered his handkerchief to him.
Hunter shook his head and pushed it back into her hands. “You keep it.”
Her lower lip trembled and another tear spilled down her cheek. She used the blue cloth to wipe it away and graced him with the smallest of smiles. For that fleeting moment, her face lit up like the sun. “Thank you, sir. You are very kind.”
Kind
. He cringed inwardly. There was nothing kind about Hunter, and if she knew his reasons for leaving Earth, she wouldn’t be sitting so calmly beside him. He’d had to change his name and forge the proper documents just to make it through the Interstellar Port and to Kemmius, where the first service job he found was at this women’s prison on the coldest continent on the coldest fucking habitable planet in existence. He’d had to leave most of his money and possessions behind, and the quickest way to start over seemed to be a service job, the type of job that promised a large payout at the end of five years, enough money to buy a large plot of land, or even a small island, on a faraway planet where no one would recognize him or even know his name. The governing councils on each planet wanted to grow the populations, and the institution of service jobs with large payouts, mainly mining, manual labor, and prison jobs, drew hordes of men from overpopulated Earth.
“How long has the warden been singling you out, Becca?” Hunter felt a surge of protectiveness for the young woman and held his breath, hoping this was the first time.
“Ever since I came here.”
Rage bubbled underneath his skin and he took a deep breath and stared straight at the camera mounted high on the corner wall. He hoped the warden was watching, and he experienced a pang of regret for punishing Becca. Of course she hadn’t really neglected her duties in the kitchen, but he’d spanked her anyway. Deep down, a part of him had wanted to put her over his knee, had wanted to feel her submitting to his authority.
“What was your crime, Becca?”
Her jaw clenched and she swallowed hard. “My boyfriend surprised me with a trip to Terrina, the planet with the really tall trees. We were on our way through the Interstellar Port when a large stash of drugs was discovered in my carryon. They weren’t my drugs, in fact my boyfriend mockingly whispered in my ear that they belonged to him, but it didn’t matter to the authorities. It was my word against his, and he had a fancy lawyer. Now I’m here, and next month I’ll be God-knows-where with the warden.”
He believed that the drugs weren’t hers. She looked trusting and innocent, and that’s probably why her so-called boyfriend picked her as his vacation companion while he attempted to smuggle drugs. This sort of thing happened all the time, and the authorities showed no mercy. If the bags belonged to you, the contents inside also belonged to you. No matter what.
Hunter put a hand on her thigh, not to intimidate her, but to calm her sudden shaking. “My five-year service contract is up before the warden’s. I have seven days left. Perhaps I will claim you as my bride.”
She inhaled in a quick, shaky breath and regarded him with suspicion. “But, but you don’t know me.”
He laughed. “With the number of blocks and the frequent rotation of guards on each block, none of the guards really get to know the inmates. That’s the point of the rotations. It keeps the inmates well-behaved because they want to try to catch every single guard’s attention, and it keeps the guards from showing favor to any woman in particular, thus quelling any jealousy from starting up amongst the prisoners. You’re right, I don’t know you. But I know the warden, and I know he doesn’t have a kind cell in his body.”
She cast a wary glance at the camera.
“Don’t worry about the camera. I
hope
he’s watching right now.”
Her hands twisted in her lap around the handkerchief, and he longed to comb the tangles out of her hair with his fingers. Hell, he longed to wrap his arms around her and carry her straight to his bunk in the officers’ quarters.
Just one more week. He’d never felt a particular attachment to any of the females here, but the first time he’d laid eyes on Becca a week ago as she walked to her cell after recreation time, he’d felt a strange pull toward her. He’d kept an eye on her since then, from a distance.
“Please pick another inmate,” she whispered. Fear glimmered in her eyes. “Please don’t pick me.”
Hunter forced her gaze to his with a gentle touch to her chin. “You needn’t be so afraid of me. I will be upfront with you about what I expect in a wife, if that helps ease your fear.”
She fell silent, but her eyes kept darting to the camera. He knew she feared the warden, but he would make sure the bastard left her alone for the next seven days.
“I intend to purchase an island on Merro with my payout. I plan to start a small farm, enough to sustain my wife and me, and any children we may have. When you become my wife, Becca, you will be subject to my rules and my discipline, but I promise to be a kind husband. I will not abuse you, and I will see that all your needs are met. You have nothing to fear from me.” He covered her hands with his. “In seven days you will belong to me.”
Chapter Two
Becca didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night. She curled up under her thin blanket with Officer Makin’s handkerchief and thought about all he’d said. Should she trust him? Why was the warden so afraid of him? And what if he turned out to be cruel? He planned to take her to a secluded island. Escape wouldn’t be a possibility.
She tossed and turned, and panic seized her when she imagined life as the warden’s wife. She didn’t even know his real name. Everyone called him
the warden,
and the added mystery of his real identity made him seem that much more ominous a person.
She shuddered, recalling the feel of his strap. She had scars on the fronts of her thighs from the terrible implement, from a day he’d been in a particularly foul mood. He’d stormed into her cell and made her lie flat on her back, taking his anger out on her as she screamed and tried to get away. The more she fought, the harder he swung the strap, until she eventually passed out from the pain.
She reached behind her and slipped a hand into her pants, cupping her warmed bottom. Makin hadn’t been cruel. She inhaled the enticing masculine scent that clung to his handkerchief, the handkerchief he’d given her to dry her tears. Such a sweet gesture. She had seen hundreds of guards make their rotations through Block C since her arrival two years ago, yet none of them had ever treated her as kindly as Makin.
He had looked at her as if she was a real person. He had shown her empathy.
Raymond, the boyfriend who’d stashed drugs in her bag, had shown her empathy too. He’d taken her in after her father died and the bank took their house. He’d fed her and clothed her and told her he loved her.
All lies.
She rubbed the handkerchief against her cheek. Could Officer Makin be building up her trust just so he could hurt her later, like Raymond? She liked Makin’s description of the life he planned, farming on an island, far away from anyone else who might harm her. But what if Makin had a temper? He was so tall, so dangerous looking that apparently the warden feared him. Even worse, what if the warden actually did track her down and take her as his wife anyway? The asshole was probably bluffing and trying to scare her, but it was just another worry she didn’t need.
Morning came too early and she rushed to the showers as soon as the guards released her block. She went through the motions of her day, two kitchen duties followed by an hour of recreation in the gym. She ran laps around the women who played basketball and volleyball, pretending it was 2355 again and she was back in Eau Claire, Wisconsin training for a high school track meet. She’d attended the last women’s high school to remain open in the state, after education funds were severely cut and all the other schools became male-only. She’d been looking forward to graduation, but her father would die halfway through her senior year, and she would miss the last track meet after Raymond whisked her away to New York.
She slowed to a walk and her stomach flipped at the sight of the warden. He stood in the doorway across the gym, his arms folded and his gaze trained on her. Despite her panting and sweating, a shiver crawled up her back. She glanced away and decided to join the women playing basketball, hoping he wouldn’t single her out for some imagined misbehavior if she was surrounded by other inmates. The scheme worked, and after a few minutes he disappeared from the doorway.
The warden
knew
. He must’ve watched the video feed from her cell to make sure Officer Makin had punished her. She prayed the warden left her alone, and she prayed that if he didn’t, a certain officer with dark brown eyes would show up to rescue her.
Her heart fluttered each time she thought of how boldly Officer Makin had stood up to the warden, and a tender warmth filled her when she recalled the safe feeling of being secured over his lap to receive her punishment. He’d held her, for however brief a time, and her body burned with the need to experience his touch again.
The following days passed without incident, and thankfully the warden left her alone. He stared at her menacingly from a distance a couple of times, but aside from those hateful glares he didn’t take a step in her direction.