3
“You’re not sleeping well, are you?” Ben, one of Kat’s closest yet most irritatingly observant friends smiled sadly as a waiter placed a triple espresso in front of her.
Even without the numerous yawns she’d been stifling all through dinner, Kat knew she looked like crap. Even Estée Lauder couldn’t hide the weariness around her eyes. Besides, he’d known her for six years and nothing got past him. “I tried,” she replied, shaking a packet of Sweet ’N Low.
“You’re still having nightmares?” Beth asked from her seat at Kat’s left. She and Kat had been friends since high school and, despite Beth only returning to New York a few months earlier after teaching in Texas for four years, they’d fallen back into their friendship easily.
It was nice to have her close again, completing their friendship trifecta, even if their constant worrying drove her near distraction. Kat knew they both meant well, but, along with her mother’s continuous anxieties about Kat’s job, it was becoming exhausting.
Ben shook his head. “You can always call me, you know?”
Like protective siblings, he and Beth frequently offered to stay the night when the nightmares hit, or offered the spare beds at their places, but she always declined.
“And wake you and Abby?” Kat asked with a lift of her shoulders. “Why would I call you?”
“Because we’re your friends and we care about you,” Beth said before spooning a large helping of crème brûlée into her mouth.
“Especially with this job,” Ben added.
Kat glared. “Don’t start.”
Ben held his hands up. “Who’s starting?”
Kat stirred her spoon around in her cup. “This job—”
“Is important to you—we know,” Beth interrupted. She was a little sharper around the edges than she’d been in high school, but her chestnut eyes and crazy cropped ash-blonde hair reaffirmed she was still the same girl Kat had known for years. “But we still worry.”
Ben rested a hand on Kat’s. “You have a lot coming up in the next few months.”
Kat dropped her gaze to the table.
“Your father’s anniversary isn’t far away. Just know that Abby and I are here, okay? We love you.”
“And I love you, too.” Beth grinned. “Even though Adam bought me a diamond, you’re still my number one, you know.” She wiggled the finger that held the gorgeous square-cut diamond engagement ring.
Kat tried to smile. “I know. Thank you both.”
Ben replied, “And remember, I’m a lawyer. If anyone in that place gives you a hard time, I’m your man. You know I could dig up shit on the pope if you needed me to.”
Beth and Kat laughed. It was probably true. Ben won most of his cases through sheer dogged determination, dirt digging, and favors. Like a hunting dog, he could sniff out scandal and blackmail at twenty paces.
“Hey, has your mom called?” Beth asked.
Kat exhaled hard. “Three times last night alone.”
Beth’s brow furrowed. “She called me, too. She’s worried, that’s all.”
Kat hummed sardonically. “Look, I know you’re Team Mom—”
“I’m not team anyone,” Beth countered. “I simply see where she’s coming from. It must be difficult for her.”
Kat huffed. “Difficult for her? She’s been on my case since I took this damned job. ‘It’s unsafe.’ ” She mimicked her mother’s tone. “ ‘I’m putting myself at risk working with those animals,’ blah, blah, blah.” Her shoulders slumped. “Why can’t she be supportive?”
“She means well,” Ben said. “She’ll come around.”
“Sure,” Kat replied, unconvinced.
* * *
Carter woke, having slept soundly; maybe he’d worn himself out plotting against Anthony Ward. He smiled. The motherfucker really had no idea who he was messing with.
He was to stay in his cell until four—two hours to go—which was when his twenty-four-hour punishment was over. For pushing a chair into a wall. What bullshit.
Maybe he’d pushed it a little harder than he should have, but his philosophy tutor had most definitely overreacted. And Ward? Well, he just knew all of Carter’s buttons to press.
Jack soon arrived with a rescheduled visit for Max and a disappointed look on his face, which made Carter’s insides clench. He appreciated Jack’s gesture, given the man’s thoughts on Max, and once again, he kicked himself for acting like a dick with his counselor. His mouth just ran away with him sometimes.
“So, I take it we don’t like philosophy?” Jack had asked with a small grin. “Aristotle not doing it for ya?”
“Not exactly.”
Jack nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks for the shit storm from Anthony Ward, by the way. I owe you big-time for that.”
“About that,” Carter mumbled from his bed. “My bad.”
It was the closest to an apology Jack would get.
“Yes, it is,” Jack agreed. “Jeez, Wes, you’re better than that.”
Carter sighed despondently and pulled his knees up to his chest. “The guy was talking crap, Jack. He deserved it.”
“Well, whatever your reasons, you have a lot of making up to do.”
“Oh, yeah?” Carter snapped.
“Yeah,” Jack returned, undaunted. “I’ve enrolled you in Literature. I know you like to read.” He gestured to the shelves on the right wall of the cell, filled with battered, dog-eared texts. “And the tutor is a woman, so maybe there won’t be as much hostility.”
“Hostility?”
“You know what I mean,” Jack said sharply. “You promised you’d try, so prove to me you are. I had to kiss that son of a bit—” He glanced toward the prison officer standing two feet away. “I had to speak nicely to Ward to give you another chance. Don’t tell me I’ve wasted my time here.”
Carter sat forward, running his hands over his buzzed hair. He was at a dead end. Ward had not only Jack’s balls in a vise but his, too. He wanted nothing more than to beat the arrogant shit with his book of “rules,” but he couldn’t let Jack down again. He was stressed, frustrated.
“You’ll do fine,” Jack said quietly, moving a step closer. The guard behind him shifted, too.
“Yeah,” Carter muttered. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
Even after his long sleep, fatigue began to creep silently over him. The walls had started to close ever so slightly, making his head heavy. Twenty-two hours locked in one room could do that to a man. Even him.
“Tomorrow morning,” Jack said with an encouraging nod. “The tutor is Miss Lane. She’s very good. Try to be … Just try, okay?”
“Okay.” Carter held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Jack smiled. “And just to be safe, I’ve made sure all the chairs in that classroom have been bolted to the floor.”
Carter laughed loudly. “Good thinking, J,” he called before the guard shut the door of his cell, leaving him alone once again.
* * *
The final two hours of the punishment crept by at a snail’s pace, and Carter almost knocked the guard off his feet when he finally opened the cell. He stretched his arms back, cracked his neck, and hurried toward the yard.
“Yo, Carter!”
Riley Moore’s thundering voice traveled across the basketball court.
Carter smiled. “Moore,” he replied, strolling toward the giant man.
“Where ya been?” Moore asked with a slap against Carter’s shoulder. “I’ve missed your punk-ass face.”
“Give me a smoke and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Riley pulled a cigarette from his pocket and flicked Carter a match. They made their way to a small seating area at the back of the court.
“Move!” Riley barked.
Carter snorted when the two newbies who’d been sitting in their spot scattered like leaves. He sat down, closing his eyes to the sun beating down on him, letting the smoke whisper from between his lips.
“So what gives? You been somewhere jerking off since yesterday?” Riley laughed and lit a cigarette.
“If only,” Carter replied, watching the basketball game across the yard. “No, it was Ward.”
“No shit,” Riley murmured with a shake of his head.
“I had a slight disagreement with one of the tutors and he put me on twenty-four-hour punishment.”
“It’s on, man.” Riley bumped Carter’s fist. They’d known each other many years, both inside and outside Kill. If Carter needed him, he’d be there.
They both turned when they heard a loud bout of whistles and jeers from courtside.
Riley snorted. “Talking of tutors,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.
Carter followed his stare through the fencing to see a redheaded woman with the sexiest curve to her ass he’d ever seen. Wrapped deliciously in a black knee-length skirt, she crossed the parking lot toward a sweet Lexus sport coupe. Her awesome legs disappeared into black heels that, even from Carter’s viewpoint, were hard-on-inducing.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked, trying to see past the other inmates who were milling at the fence like kids at a damned zoo.
“That’s Miss Lane,” Riley answered, leaning back on his elbows. “My lit tutor. She’s cool, actually.”
Carter snorted. “Well, at least that’s a plus.” He snuffed out his cigarette on the bench.
“What?” Riley frowned, confused.
Carter waved his hand toward where the car had disappeared. “The tutor will be one good thing about doing lit.”
Riley chuckled. “You’re doing lit, too?”
“Yeah,” Carter answered with a roll of his eyes. “Jack wants me to prove to the powers that be I can ‘improve’ myself inside. Some shit about how it could help toward an early parole. I’m not holding my breath.”
“Sounds like a crock to me.”
“Agreed,” Carter replied, leaning back and lifting his face to the blazing sun.