Prisoner (All of You Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Tony

“Five days, Roman.”  The guards don’t wear name tags, and since I’m again in solitary confinement, I can’t see their faces either.  They send my food in through a slot in the door.  If I got mail, if anyone in the world cared about me, I would get it through that slot too.  But no one still cares.  The government made sure of that.

My commanding officer knows how the firefight started.  He knows that an insurgent fired first.  There’s video footage shot from drones that proves our story.  But when everyone in a town is wiped out, there are apparently consequences.  We all have to pay them, me and my entire team.

I’ll never be released from prison.  I’ll die here, being fed this shit every day for the rest of my life.  I take the plastic spoon to the barely edible oatmeal.  I’m also given an apple, that looks like it’s been peeled and cut and sitting on a counter for three days.  I’m never going to be able to train to fight on this diet, not to mention that they don’t give me enough water.  I might as well just walk in the cage and slit my own throat.

I eat what I can, then I begin my workout.  When the guard opens the slot, I remind him, “I need more water to train for your cage match.”

He doesn’t answer me, but forty push-ups and one hundred sit-ups later, he shoves three bottles of water through the slot.  At least they gave me that.

Lani

“Pretty please, Connie?”  I’m sitting in Constance’s office, wearing a tight blouse with it unbuttoned down to my bra.  I even bat my eyelashes.  I only dress this way when I’m trying to seduce someone.  Most of the time, it works.

“I’m sorry, Lani, there’s no way in hell I’m faking a transfer order to get you into a jail.”  She says it, but she can’t take her eyes off my tits. 

I give her my sexiest smile, and lean toward her so she gets a big eyeful of my cleavage.  “Remember that one night, when I ate your pussy for hours because you just couldn’t come, and finally I found your g-spot and made you gush like a geyser?”

“Stop that, I’m married now.”  She blushes as she says it, and she squirms in her chair. 

“How long has it been since Jamie ate your sweet little pussy?”  I lick my top lip enticingly.

Her hips literally lift up off the chair.  I can see her gorgeous nipples straining against her blouse.  I want them in my mouth. 

“Fuck, Melanie, you know I can get fired for this bullshit.  Does Jamie know what you’re doing?” 

“Does Jamie tell you every day how perfect your tits are?  I want to shove them together and suck both your nipples at the same time.” 

“Stop!”  She groans, and wiggles her cute little ass.

“Let’s go to the bathroom, and I can give you a quickie while you think about it.”  I just love being the bad girl. 

“Okay, I’ll go first.”  She jumps up and practically runs there.

I wait a few minutes, then follow after her.  When I walk in she’s already got her panties around her ankles, and her blouse is open.  Her luscious boobs are hanging out, inviting me. 

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper in her ear, as my fingers trace down her cleavage.  “I mean, I’ve already told you what I want.”  When my fingers are between her legs, I rub just outside her sweet little cunt hole.  She bends her knees and spreads her legs, and places her hands flat on the stall wall.

“I want you to make me come really hard,” she whimpers. 

“And then you’ll give me what I want?”  I take one breast in my hand, and rub my lips over her nipple.  She smells like sandalwood, which I love.  She’s always smelled like sandalwood.

“You’re a horrible person,” she sighs loudly.  “Suck my nipple.” 

I suck her big, dusky pink bud into my mouth, and she shudders.  I shove my fingers inside her, then move them in and out fast and hard, just how I know she likes it.  She pants and moans, until she comes all over my hand.  I get a little high off of knowing I can make her feel that way, but it’s not as much of a high as it used to be.  I want to feel that way.  I want to be the one getting the orgasm.

She finally calms down enough to speak, and says, “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, babe.”  I kiss her cheek, then head to the sink to wash may hands.  “I just need to be in there for about a month.” 

“What’s the cover story?” 

“I don’t know.  You’re the genius.  Maybe I need to be closer to my aging parents?”  She looks so cute putting her girl parts away.  I think she should just walk around naked all the time, but then I’d probably have to arrest her.

“If you could get your step-dad in on the plan, you could claim a medical transfer.  Get him to sign some forms stating that he’s treating you, and you need to be nearer to him.” 

I think about it for a moment.  I mean, he can’t get into any more trouble than the rest of us.  “I like it.  I’ll talk to him about it.”

“But don’t tell your mom,” Connie warns with one last kiss.  “You know how she is.  She likes to talk.”

“You’re right.  So I’ll talk to Doctor Dad this evening, and I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”  My hand is on the door, and I turn back to watch her drying her thighs with a paper towel.  “Maybe you’ll get more of that.”

“God, I hope so.”  I hear her say it as I’m walking out the door.

We’re sipping wine by the pool.  My stepdad has given my mom a sedative, and she’s already gone to bed.  I need to talk to him alone anyway.  I explain the plan, and he doesn’t yell or tell me I’m crazy, which is encouraging. 

“I need you to just sign the forms, that’s it.  Can you do that please?” 

“I don’t think Addy killed herself either.  And I think it’s very strange that she killed herself in a jail as well.  But…”  Doctor Paul Foster, the man I affectionately call
Doctor Dad
, stands up and paces a few steps around the pool.  “I’m not sure.”  He’s good looking.  He’s like seriously hot.  He’s tall, blonde, and blue eyed, the all American boy. He spends a lot of time in the gym, and he’s got a tight, rock hard body.  He likes to show it off too, in shorts and tight polo shirts, so they stretch against his biceps.  If it wasn’t for him being married to my mom, I’d have already done him.  I’d do him twice a night, every night.  I’d probably never even look at Dane Barrett again.

“Listen, Doctor Dad, we’re not going to get caught.  This is going to be the perfect plan.  I’ll find out what happened to Addy.  I promise.  If she killed herself, well then, we’ll know for sure.”

“I hate it when you call me that,” he groans.  I know he hates it, that’s half the reason I do it, of course.  So what, I’m a brat.  “I don’t want to get in trouble.”  He sighs, paces for a few more moments, then says, “But I want you to find out who did this.  Bring me whatever you need me to sign.”

“Thanks.”  I can relax now, and I lean back in my chair and drink the rest of my wine.

“Have you told your father?”  He has the sexiest voice.  Damn I wish I’d met him before my mom did.  He’s the one guy I could really fall for.  He sits down across from me, and I can look right into his bright blue eyes.  He doesn’t look away.  I wonder sometimes if he knows I have a crush on him.  Nah, probably not. 

“No.  And I don’t think I’m going to tell him.”  My dad’s never been happy about my mom’s second marriage.  I think he was drunk for two weeks when she told him about it.  “I don’t think he’d be willing to help.”

“Then why should I?”  He’s got his serious, doctor voice on again. 

“Because you love Addison just as much as I do.”  I intentionally don’t use the past tense.  The stupid sibling rivalry is all but forgotten.  Anyway, Doctor Dad bought me my first car when I was sixteen.  It was used, but it was mine.  He also bought me my convertible on my twenty-first birthday, which was probably too expensive, but the German engineering has lasted eight years and counting.  And he put the down payment on my cottage for my twenty-fifth birthday.  He’s a great guy, and he’s tried hard to treat me like his flesh and blood, not like a step child. 

He nods, and takes another swig of whiskey.  “She died from hanging.  That doesn’t mean it was self-inflicted, it just means that’s how she died. There was bruising on her wrists, but she was in jail, and that could easily be explained with handcuffs.  She was struck, several times, in the face.  The warden claimed she got into a fight with her cellmate.  She also had two fractured ribs.”

“You’re going to help me?”  He nods.  “You really studied the report, huh?”  I gaze down into my empty wine glass, and he moves to refill it.  I shake my head and cover the glass with my hand.  “I’m driving.”

“You could stay the night,” he says gently.  Again I shake my head, although I want to.  That’s another line I can’t cross.  “I did a quick examination of my own.”

“Okay.  What’s her cellmate’s name, the one she got into a fight with?”  I gaze into his dark blue eyes, and wish yet again he wasn’t married to my mom.

“Jenna, but how will that help?” 

“Every little bit will help,” I assure him.  “I think I should head out.  I’ll stop by your office tomorrow and bring you the paperwork.”

“I’ll be there,” he says in that voice.  If only…

“Tell your father,” Jamie implores.  He decided to join me in Constance’s office, so there will be no payment on her favor today.  She knows I’m good for it.

“Nope.  Not going to happen,” I state emphatically.  I don’t want him to try to talk me out of it, and I don’t want to have to go behind his back when he tells me no.  Sometimes it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

“Who are you going to have to save your ass if this goes sideways?”  Jamie always thinks everything is going to go bad.

“I won’t need anyone to save my ass, because Constance set my release date for thirty days from today, right?”

“Yes, but I agree with Jamie.  I don’t think it’s the best idea ever,” Constance argues, as she hands me the paper.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jamie retorts.  I give him a dirty look.  “You should have someone watching your back.”

“Doctor Foster will check on me periodically.  And if anything goes wrong, you can tell my dad, alright?”  I add this paperwork to the fingerprints Jamie took earlier.  Of course I’ve had it done before, we practiced on each other at the academy.  It still felt weird, though. 

“Shoplifting?”  Jamie exclaims when he takes the file out of my hands and opens it.  “You wouldn’t even be in jail for shoplifting.”

“It’s her third offense, and she’s only in for four months,” Connie counters.

“Well, I think it’s stupid,” he grumbles, then hands me the file.

“You think the entire idea is stupid,” I remind him.  “One day, you’re gonna need a favor, and you know who’s going to be there?”

“My wife,” he says without hesitation.  Connie smiles brightly.  “And my partner.”

“Damn right,” I say at the same time Connie proclaims, “No doubt.”

“So, when are we going to start this little folly a deux?”

“Folly a tres,” I correct, and wink at Connie.  “Tomorrow at seven in the morning.  I’ve already got my vacation approved.”

“I can’t believe you have a month’s worth of vacation days,” Jamie counters.

“I’ve never taken any, and I’ve been with the force for nine years.  I have a lot more than a month,” I say with a grin.

“Quit bragging,” he groans.

“I was saving it up for a spectacular honeymoon.” I sigh wistfully at the thought.

“As if you’d find a man who’d have you.”  Connie and I both frown at him.  “What?  It’s true.”

“I think Melanie would make a fantastic wife,” Constance says with a wicked grin.  I kiss her cheek, then smack her ass with the file folder.  “Ow!” she exclaims loudly, but the look in her eyes tells me she likes it.

Chapter Three

Lani

When I arrive, they don’t even question the paperwork.  The male officer at the front window signs the paper that Jamie hands him with only a cursory glance at it. 

“Medical transfer, huh?”  De Soto, or at least that’s the name on his shirt, asks, as Jamie removes his handcuffs from my wrists.

“Her doctor had a death in the family or something, and he’s had to come to town to settle the estate.”  Jamie shrugs as he says it.  “He plays golf with her dad, or some nonsense.  She’s a diabetic, and she needs injections every few days.”

“Rich girl with a shoplifting problem,” De Soto remarks.  Apparently he got a lot more out of his glance than I realized.  Then his beady eyes are on me.  He only looks at me for a moment, but then he nods at Jamie.  “She looks like she’s screaming out for attention.”

I have no idea what he means by that.  I think I look like a normal, well-adjusted woman, which of course I am.  Yes, my chestnut hair is highlighted every four weeks, and trimmed and thinned because it’s so thick.  And yes, my eyebrows and upper lip are waxed at the same visit.  But I don’t think that makes me high maintenance, it just means I care about my appearance and how I present myself to the world.  Also, I get a manicure and pedicure once every two weeks.  I keep my fingernails trimmed and buffed until they shine without polish, but my toenails are always hot pink.  I am a girl, after all.  I removed it two nights ago, in preparation for this.

“She hasn’t caused any trouble in the jail, so the Lieutenant allowed the transfer.  She’ll be the model prisoner, or we’ll take her back,” Jamie assures De Soto. 

“Damn right you will.  I’ll call Lieutenant Barrett personally.” 

So, I faked his signature, fucking sue me.  I couldn’t very well put down Captain Vaden, when my name is Melanie Vaden.  There’s no way anyone would be convinced we weren’t related. I do have a lot more practice forging my dad’s signature; since I used to sign it on permission slips for school, and report cards, and detention notices.  So what, I was a rebellious child.  I did what I wanted to do even then, and damned the consequences.  I didn’t wake up like this at twenty-nine.

“Yes, of course, wouldn’t have it any other way.  She’s all yours,” Jamie says, and leaves.  I’m suddenly very nervous.  The officer behind the desk touches a button, and I hear the metal door between him and I unlock.  I’m already wearing the Winston jail issue scrubs, which I stole, and a pair of slip on tennis shoes, with no laces.  But as soon as the door is open, a female officer is there to lead me to the showers. 

“Strip,” she orders. 

I’m expecting this, and I’m far from shy.  I enjoy working out, and I can fight or take a suspect down faster than the men, so I don’t have any hang-ups.  If I could change anything, I’d give myself bigger boobs, but it doesn’t bother me enough to go under the knife to get them.

When my clothes are folded neatly on a bench, she says, “Squat.”  I don’t argue.  I spread my feet to about shoulder width apart, and bend down.  “Now shower.”  Officer Hughes doesn’t mince words, that’s for sure.  I do as I’m told yet again, and she gives me a coarse towel to dry off with, takes my Winston issue clothes, and gives me Farmingdale issue scrubs.  They’re a pale purple, which is only slightly better than the orange of Winston.  She allows me to wear my tennis shoes and socks.  Then she hands me a set of sheets.  It’s official.  I’m a prisoner.

I’m led toward a cell, a chorus of cat calls and whistles punctuating my journey.  I expect this too.  I know that I’m fresh meat.  I’m not bothered, I can definitely handle myself.

Tony

“Tomorrow night, Roman.  Are you ready?” the guard asks when he pushes my breakfast through the slot, along with the four extra bottles of water he’s been sending through every day since I asked. 

“I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be,” I tell him. 

“Our latest champion is the best we’ve had so far.  He’s won every match for going on seven months.  Think you can beat him, baby killer?”  If I could get my hands on that guard, I’d snap his neck and not think twice.

“I’m pretty tough,” I assure him.  But I’ve already decided I’m not going to fight.  I’m going to let their champion kill me.  Death will be better than this living hell.  I can’t take any more.  My wife divorced me ten years ago. I’ll never see my kids again.  Even if they let me go, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go home to.  I’d rather just die than live with this shame any longer.

“Well, my money’s on the other guy,” he says. 

Probably best
.  I think it, but I don’t say it.  I’m not going to help that asshole win any money.  Instead, I say, “I wouldn’t bet against me.”  It might make him change his mind, and lose some of his hard earned money.

Lani

“Tell newbie the rules, Sammy,” Hughes orders, as she closes the iron door on my new cage.  Sammy, my new cell mate, is lounging in the top bunk.  She is a light skinned black girl, with huge brown eyes.  She looks like she might be about my age, but drugs and a rough life have aged her twenty years. 

“You don’t question the guards.  You do what they tell you to do.  Do you understand me?”  I nod, then I climb into the bunk bed under hers.

“Are you listening, newbie?”  Hughes asks through the iron bars.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answer politely. 

“Good girl, newbie,” she replies before she walks away, dragging her nightstick over the bars just to make noise. 
Girl
?  She’s probably not five years older than me.  If it was just me and her, I’d shove that night stick straight up her ass, and make sure she didn’t enjoy it.

Sammy slides down the ladder, and plops herself on my bed.  She is probably about five inches taller than me, but stick thin. 

“Listen, you do what I tell you.  The last new girl in here, she caused trouble, and she didn’t walk out,” Sammy says, just loud enough for me to hear.

I breathe several times, to make sure my emotions don’t bleed over into my voice.  She’s talking about Addy.  “I understand.” 

“When they come to get you, and they take you, you go.  You don’t fight them.”  Sammy continues, ardently, but quietly.  It gives me chills.

Again, I wait several moments before I talk.  “Where would I go?” 

“They’ll take ya to the men’s prison.  They always take the new girls.”  Sammy grins, then her brown eyes fix on a point over my shoulder, and her grin turns to a smirk.  “I went twice when I first got here.”

“That’s enough, Sammy,” a voice from the next cell over calls out.  “She’ll figure it out soon enough.  Next time’s coming up tomorrow night.  She’ll probably go.”

Sammy climbs back up into her bunk, and continues in her sing-song voice, “Lunch is in twenty minutes.  We have pizza on Fridays.”

“Pizza on Fridays,” the voice echoes from the other cell.

Tony

“Just in case you win, do you want a boy or a girl?”  The guard asks when he brings my lunch tray and takes my breakfast tray.

“Girl,” I call out automatically.  I could force any of these chicken shits to take my cock up their ass, some of them would actually beg me to, if I wanted it.  But I prefer pussy.  Not that I’m going to win anyway.  I refuse to win, on principle.  But I continue to do handstand pushups with my feet against the wall.  It’s an interesting change, and I don’t have a bar to do pull ups.  I have to make do, at least for the next twenty-four hours, or so.

“You like blondes or brunettes?” the guard chuckles.  Is he taunting me, or just making conversation?  I don’t know at this point, and it doesn’t really matter either way.

“Bring me the prettiest girl in the jail.  And if she’s not pretty, for the next fight, I’ll make it really fast.  I won’t put on a show.”  I’m messing with him now.  I got nothing better to do.

Lani

We had warm pizza for lunch, and cold pizza for dinner.  Everyone but me thought it was a treat.  I just wanted a salad, some wine, and maybe some chocolate.  A brownie would be really good.  Now, we’re back in our cells, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. 

I hear so many noises in the background, some of the other women are singing, some are talking, some are yelling at the ones singing, and some are doing things I don’t want to think about.  Someone must be cleaning somewhere, because there’s a faint scent of bleach.  I hate the smell, and every time I go into the Winston jail, I get nauseous.  I should have known the Farmingdale jail would smell the same way.

“Tell me about the men’s prison, Sammy.”  I try to keep my voice low.  I don’t want the woman in the other cell to overhear and interrupt us.

“You’ll probably find out tomorrow,” she says. 

“Tell me what happens tomorrow,” I implore.  She just chuckles.  I get the feeling she’s enjoying tormenting me.  “Never mind, I don’t care,” I say, and roll over on my bunk.  I wonder how I would feel if I was really stuck here.  I wonder what I would be thinking if this was real, and not a vacation.  I mean, I wanted to be here, I planned it, so I can’t complain.  I just can’t help thinking that if I was really in here, I would be reacting differently.

Tony

I can’t sleep.  I know tomorrow I will die.  Tomorrow, I will end this.  Tomorrow, all the pain, anguish, and torment will all be over.  I don’t belong here.  Tomorrow I’ll be in a better place, whatever that place may be.  I should sleep, I tell myself.  But when I close my eyes, all I see is the look on my wife’s face when the jury found me guilty.  I knew, at that moment, that she was never going to stand with me through this.  And how can I blame her?  She didn’t deserve all the pain and heartache that I brought her.  At least, once I’m dead, the kids can get my survivor benefits.  Dead, I’m worth something to someone.  Alive, I’m worth nothing.  I’m just stuck, in this box, forever.  How can anyone live like this?  How can a human being live like this?

Lani

“How long have you been here?”  I ask Sammy. 

“Which time?  I’ve been in and out of here since I was eighteen.  Sometimes it’s drugs, sometimes it’s shoplifting.  I’ve been arrested for soliciting, and public intoxication.  You name it, I’ve done it.”  She chuckles again when she’s finished. 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” she shoots back quickly.  “I’m young.  I’ve got nothing better to do with my life.” 

“But what are you gonna do when you’re older?”  I should really just keep my questions to myself at this point.  I realize that she’s probably going to get pissed off, and say, “Never mind.  It’s not my business.”

“You’re right, it ain’t.”  Sammy’s voice was light, even though her words were angry.  “I probably won’t live that long anyway.”

I lie there for several moments, thinking about that.  As a cop, I should worry about that.  But I don’t, not living in Winston, anyway.

“And if you don’t do what they tell you to do tomorrow, you won’t live that long, either.”  She laughs, but it’s an eerie, wicked sound.

“Lights out in ten,” someone says over the intercoms. 

“You’ll find out tomorrow, newbie,” the voice in the next cell calls out.

I lay there, eyes open, until the lights go out.  What happens tomorrow?