Page 9 of The Way We Rot
It all built, heat between us, air vibrating, a balloon about to pop, a swollen gut bursting intestines everywhere.Bile and dry mouths and hot, soupy tension.
“Why are you here, Darling?” I asked again, goading. He held his fists closed tight, knuckles white, veins prominent as he squeezed.
I thought he was about to tell me; to admit he was just like the rest.
But instead, he huffed and left. He fucking left. Just turned on his heel and walked away, slamming the cell door shut behind him.
And I was hooked. The way he looked at me, he would be a better target than Randal the pussy. Randal didn’t know his ass from his elbow, but CO Darling… I had a feeling he was very competent. And when he set his mind to something, he achieved it.
Just what I needed.
I settled into my bottom bunk, my stomach rumbling from lack of food, and smiled. CO Darling was the better choice to get what I wanted. All men were too easy to manipulate, all one step away from grabbing a woman and fucking her into the ground without her consent - easy to twist up, to play.
CO Darling would make a good plaything. Or so I thought.
Four
CO Darling kept himself out of my way for a week. I didn’t see him, not even in the shadows or in passing in the halls when I was being herded about.
He was like a ghost. But I daredn’t ask anyone where he was. Maybe his work schedule had shifted; maybe he’d requested to be moved away from me.
But I was getting restless for more from him, from anyone. My skin itched, and my mind had too much time in that calm space, when nothing was going wrong, when monotony was eating at my neurons.
Randal wasn’t pestering me anymore either, so any form of entertainment had dried up. Mandy was being cool, focusing on her little gang rather than our old feud, and prison life was just chugging along.
I hated it.
My mother often told me I had the devil’s idle hands. She meant it in a kind way, because I always had to be occupied, and if I wasn’t busy doing something good, my hands wandered to the bad. She tried, filling my time with crocheting or baking, sending me off to soccer practice or making me join the swim team. None of it worked to fulfill the itch in me.
Even if I battled it, made myself sick with it, the devil’s hands clung on.
Like now. Even though I was playing a game of cards with a group, it wasn’t holding my attention at all, and my mind was drifting. The women in the game were getting pissed with me for falling behind, losing focus, messing up the rules.
After yet another round of tuts coming my way, I’d had enough.
“Hey, Mandy!” I yelled across the yard, having to raise my voice to beat through the wind whipping through. There was a storm rolling in, wind and rain pelting us in our heavy beige coats. The wildness of the weather fed my soul, setting everything on edge.
Mandy ignored me, or didn’t hear me, sitting there looking a little bored too, while one of her buddies, aslight woman with short cropped hair and the melty meth face I hated to see, waffled on about something or other.
That wouldn’t do.
I twitched. Itched. Both. Stood up. “Mandy!” I shouted again and still, nothing. Nuh uh.
My hips twisted, I began to stand, when my eyes snagged on Darling. He was here today. He was back. Where had he gone? He was positioned on the other side of the yard, manning the fence between us and the other, less worrisome, groups. We needed to be kept apart from them because they had lesser crimes and shorter sentences, and we liked to mess with them.
I froze, watching CO Darling stride up and down, giving me a passing view of his round ass or his muscled front with each go round. And not once, not once did he look at me.
He ignored me. Mandy ignored me. Or didn’t hear me.
So I hopped up, slammed my hand over the playing cards and said, “Better luck next time, folks.” Before sauntering off, casual as anything, one of the cards twisted up in my palm.
Mandy still thought she had the upper hand on me for that shit in the mess hall a few weeks ago, sitting there lording it over her little group. I hated it. Hated everything about her for riling me up and now ignoring me. Both of them.
I felt Darling’s eyes on me as I moved across the concrete yard, not even bothering to be subtle. I moved fast, determined. This was for me, but a little bit for him, too. I wasn’t stupid enough to deny that, even as my stomach rolled with anticipation.
I wanted him to look at me. See me. Want me. Only then could I—
Mandy, if rumors were to be believed, was in here after drunk driving and drug running, a nice slew of things that all built up to the shit show of a person who wasn’t getting out of here any time soon.
