Chapter 11
Scott shifted on the lumpy mattress again and peeked over the edge. Halfway through yesterday he’d gotten a roommate. The man, Billy Chadwick, was in his mid-thirties, but looked like he’d been around a lot longer than that. Apparently he’d been here before if the interaction with the guards was anything to go by.
The foul smell from the toilet drifted up and he tucked his nose into the less than fragrant mattress. He’d happily given up the bottom bunk when Billy had started heaving and crapping on the toilet. No way did he want the man puking over the side of the bunk from the top. Or shitting his pants as he tried to climb down to get to the toilet. The guards didn’t care that Billy had some stomach issues.
Right now he should be at Jack’s having a cold one and roughhousing with Jonathan. Or shooting the shit with Nick, Keith, Chris, or Drew. Or attempting to get Heather backed into a private corner and messing with her mind. The way she totally messed with his.
“They’re gonna come get me,” Billy wailed from below, his scratchy tone like fingernails on a chalkboard. He’d been spouting off dire warnings since he’d shown up twenty-four hours ago. “Don’t let them take me.”
“I think I’d be happy for them to take you right about now,” Scott muttered under his breath. Aside from a few stretches, he hadn’t slept the last two nights. The first night had been constant lights flickering on and off every half hour while inmates randomly yelled profanities at the guards as they did.
“They’ll get you too.” Apparently Billy had heard his words. Like he cared what some nutjob ranted about. If someone wanted to take him away from here, he’d welcome it.
“Throw you in a hole. Keep you there with no light or food. All tangled up in your own nightmares.”
Scott tried to ignore the rantings, but some of what the man said struck a nerve. There’d been a time he’d been stuck in a hole with no light or food. Afghanistan. It was during the shelling of a village they’d been working to evacuate. The whole damn building had fallen down around him and some other men from his unit. He’d been wedged in between concrete walls, his arm twisted underneath his body, unable to move.
Sitting up, he shook his head and tried to get the images out of his mind. Not that the images were clear. It had been pitch-black for the two days he’d been stuck there. Sound, though. There’d been plenty of sound. More shelling, letting him know his unit wouldn’t be able to get to him until it stopped. Groans and screams of others who had also been trapped nearby. More injured than him. Like Todd.
They’d been working together when the shelling started. Todd had pushed him ahead as the rubble rained down. Hadn’t mattered. They’d both been caught in the debris, buried under tons of concrete and steel. Civilians had also been trapped, their cries of pain echoing throughout the destroyed walls.
Two days of listening to the sounds of agony and despair and having it slowly stop as each person succumbed to their injuries. That had been almost more painful to hear. Praying these people were simply unconscious but knowing the real possibility of what had happened. He’d managed to get out with a broken arm, a few broken ribs, a slight concussion, and dehydration. Guilt too. Tons and tons of guilt. For living when many others hadn’t.
Staring through the bars out into the cell block, he gave thanks that he had that view from this tiny space. He’d found small enclosed areas now sent him into a place he didn’t like. Made him feel weak and vulnerable, like he’d been while trapped in the rubble. This room was small, but at least it had the open front. Sure, that wasn’t a ridiculous thought. He was somehow thankful for iron bars locking him in. But at least it gave the illusion of being able to get out, breathe.
“Aarrgh.” Billy groaned and hefted himself to the toilet again.
Scott tried to block out the sound of the man’s distress. The smells from the unit were bad enough without his roommate adding even worse to this small space.
The rustle of fabric preceded a few choice swears.
“They shut the damn water off.”
“What?” He twisted on the bunk gazing down to where Billy stood turning the tap. No water flowed and the toilet was full. Good thing he hadn’t been able to stomach much of the nasty lunch they’d delivered.
“Why would they shut the water off?”
Billy shook his head as he rocked back and forth. “Bad things happening. They gonna come now. Gonna get us. Get us, get us, get us.”
The sound of metal doors being opened and inmates rumbling objections echoed down the cell block. What the hell was going on? For the next hour, cells were opened and curses lit the air. All the while the foul smell of the unflushed toilet churned his stomach, reminding him of some of the places he’d served in.
“All right, we need to search the cell,” one of the guards thundered as he slipped the key into their lock and turned.
“Search the cell? What for? We haven’t left it since we got here.” What were they looking for?
“Got a report of a shank in the unit. Every cell, every inmate has to be searched.”
“Every inmate?”
“Shut up,” the guard snapped pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. “I don’t like doing strip searches any more than you’ll like it, but it’s regulations.”
“Strip search?” Shit, it had been bad enough when they’d patted him down at the police station. “I thought someone in ‘safe keep’ couldn’t be strip searched because we haven’t been arraigned yet.”
“Not without probable cause, but a shank in the unit is enough reason. Both of you step outside.”
Billy scurried past him and stood in the hall while Scott moved behind him. Four more guards stood there surrounding them. Another set of guards did the same thing on the other side of the block. The first guard went in, flipped up the mattresses then looked inside the toilet tank, avoiding the bowl. Yeah, he totally understood that. The contents were vile.
“Okay, Billy, you first. You know the drill. Everything off, one piece at a time, and hand them to me.”
Billy walked back inside the cell and pulled off his shirt, throwing it to the guard inside, who then patted it down to examine before he handed it to another guard. Scott turned away, attempting to give the man some privacy. The guards didn’t seem to have the same decency, but then it was their job to make sure everything was safe.
“Why do you shut the water off when you do this?” he asked the guard closest to him.
“So you can’t flush something down the toilet.”
“Like I’d even go within twenty feet of that toilet after he’s been using it all day.”
The guard’s eyebrow rose, his lip curving up. “The cell’s only seven-by-ten.”
He kept himself from rolling his eyes. It was only a saying.
“All set, Billy. Out in the hall. Your turn, Holland.”
Scott walked into the cell, holding his breath from the stench. “What do I do?”
“Stand right there and remove your clothing, one piece at a time. Don’t take off the next one until I tell you to.”
Reaching for the collar, he pulled the shirt off. When he handed it to the guard, the man turned it inside out then gave it to another guard, who dropped it on the floor near his feet.
“Boots next.”
When he started to sit, the guard poked him, shaking his head. Great, he couldn’t even sit to remove his boots. He bent, untied them, then passed them over. They’d already checked these when he came in a couple days ago.
“Pants.”
The pants dropped and he kicked them in the direction of the guard, who snarled, picking them up to examine them. This wasn’t too embarrassing, standing here in his boxer briefs in an open cell with five guards standing around.
“Socks.”
The floor was chilly against his bare feet. God knew how many germs were jumping on for a ride right now.
“Shorts.”
Swallowing, he pulled them down, tossing them over. Shit, this sucked big time.
“Hands on your head. Open your mouth.”
Open his mouth, what the fuck? But he complied and the guard stuck his fingers inside and swept around.
Whistling came from the cells across the hall and his cheeks heated. Great, he had an audience. It might be a good thing he couldn’t leave the cell. He had a feeling from the expressions of some of the other inmates, he’d be popular in the shower.
Over the calls of “pretty boy,” and “you’re mine,” Scott said, “The least you could have done was put on a new pair of gloves. Those things were all over Billy’s clothes.”
The guard growled. “Yeah, life in here sucks. Turn around and bend over with your hands on the bunk.”
God, could this get any worse? Hands cupped his junk then swiftly moved away. His clothes were tossed back at him with a gruff, “Get dressed.”
All eyes were still focused on him while he slipped into the lovely orange ensemble then was hustled back into the hall. Two more guards went in and did another, more thorough search.
“Found something,” one of them called out. The guards in the hall surrounded him and Billy, while the first guard took what looked like a piece of bent metal and held it up.
“Either one of you going to take responsibility for this?”
Shit and fuck. Did he have no luck at all? It had to be Billy’s, but the man was three fries short of a Happy Meal. Who knew what he’d do.
“No, no, no,” Billy wailed, starting to rock back and forth. “Don’t want to go in the hole. No hole for me. No.”
“You know the rules, Billy. Is it yours?”
Still rocking back and forth, the man muttered, “No, no, no.”
“Yours, Holland?”
“Are you kidding me? Where would I get something like that? And why would I even have it? It’s not like I’m allowed to wander around this lovely establishment. It looks a little too big to clean my teeth with.”
The first guard sighed, looking like he wanted to slap Scott’s fresh mouth. Damn his sarcasm. Too often he forgot to check with his brain if it was an appropriate time.
“Hands out.”
Billy thrust his hands in front of him and Scott followed suit. Handcuffs were slapped on then another guard came over with leg irons. Seriously? Leg irons. What the fuck did they think he could do in handcuffs that leg irons would prohibit? These people watched a few too many action flicks. He may have been in the Army, but if they thought he could take on these five guards and the five across the way, all with sticks and bulging muscles, they were sadly mistaken.
After his legs were encased in the metal, they led him and Billy out of the unit into a small hall nearby with several doors. Two of them were opened and they were each ushered inside. No slot for them to remove the restraints on this door. That didn’t bode well.
“What is this?” Scott dared ask, as the guard started to close the door.
“Segregation. Regulation for when something is found in a cell.”
“It wasn’t mine, I swear. I just want to stay quiet and get to my arraignment without any trouble.”
The guard shrugged, his face slightly apologetic. “I gotta follow the rules. Doesn’t matter what I think. At least you won’t have to smell Billy and his mess anymore.”
“How long am I in here?”
“Until you get arraigned.”
“Will this go against me at my arraignment?”
“Nah, it’s just a policy. Enjoy the quiet.”
Scott glanced around the small room as the door closed. Was it even smaller than the one he’d come from? No bars on the front making the place seem more open. No windows, except for the one in the heavy door. One bunk and the toilet combo. Nothing else.
Sliding onto the thin mattress on the bunk, he pulled up his legs as best he could and thrust his hands into his hair, the handcuffs clinking. Hair that hadn’t been washed or combed in two days. Like the rest of him.
One dim bulb lit the tiny enclosure, casting shadows on the walls. Small. Closed in. Suffocating.
No, he could breathe. He took a few deep breaths to prove to himself that he could. Why was he feeling jittery? He could do this. He only needed to get through another thirty-eight hours and he’d be out of here.
But would he actually be free to go home? Best-case scenario was the police had discovered the truth and the blue-haired chick had come clean. He’d be exonerated and allowed to leave and continue his life.
Worst case? He didn’t even want to think of the worst case. Because it involved being labeled a sexual predator, a woman beater, and spending way more time in a place like this than he ever wanted to think about. He’d gotten through the last couple days. It hadn’t been great, but he’d certainly managed. But what if he needed to stay here for any length of time? Having strip searches whenever something seemed off. Being ogled by other inmates or surrounded in the shower. He’d heard stories, knew what happened. In a one-on-one fight, he could take care of himself, but if there was a gang, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance.
And what of Heather and their project? Something was going on, and putting him in prison wouldn’t keep someone from going after Heather if the building was what they wanted. He needed to get out of here to protect her.
Jack would keep an eye out for her. He could count on the other guys to check things out too. But they had their own lives and couldn’t be with her all the time. Not like he could. Or wanted to. If anything happened to her because he wasn’t around to help her, he’d have even more guilt piled on the shit that already overwhelmed him.
Being alone, not having to listen to Billy ramble and shit, gave him too much time to think. Think about being here permanently. About Heather and how much he wanted to spend more time with her. The verbal sparring they participated in got his brain warmed up, and what it did to his body…Don’t go there. Or to the memory of her body. Dangerous territory.
Hours later when the lights flickered and went out, Scott finally allowed himself to recline on the bunk and close his eyes. It was a good way to pretend he wasn’t in a tight space with a locked door he had no way of opening. The chains on his hands and legs were a bit harder to imagine away. Not that he hadn’t fantasized about Heather in handcuffs, but they were both wearing a lot less than his orange prison suit in those dreams.
He kept his mind moving through various mundane tasks he needed to accomplish once he got out. If he kept himself busy with that, perhaps he wouldn’t feel the suffocation of being trapped in the rubble again.
* * * *
The streetlamp flickered as Heather walked along the deserted sidewalk. Laughter rang out and cars screeched, carrying over from nearby sections of town, letting her know she wasn’t alone. A scream, then silence, had her jumping and glancing into the growing darkness. Taking a deep breath, she continued on, hoping to find some of Jian’s men. She needed to speak to him. See if he could shed some light on why this blue-haired bitch thought it was okay to accuse Scott of some nasty stuff.
The streetlamp next to the mill building was out. She made a mental note to ask the town to fix it. Once they had businesses and people living here, they needed it to be a safer environment. She’d only been here during the day or with Scott and had never felt threatened, but now with the shadows falling around the buildings, her skin prickled and the hair on her nape stood up.
“Ooh wee, lookie what we got here.”
Spinning at the voice, she found herself flanked by two men. Shit. She couldn’t see much of them in the dark, but they were tall and closing in on her. Reaching into her pocket for her pepper spray, she sidestepped one only to bump into three more. Where had they come from?
“What’s the matter, rich girl, don’t like playing with the poor boys?”
She’d worn her most faded pair of jeans and a plain button-down blouse. How could they tell she was rich? Or did it even matter? Her eyes darted from one to the other, then away to see if anyone else was around.
“I’m not looking for any trouble.” Her voice squeaked trying to get through her dry mouth.
“No trouble here, sweet cheeks. We’re the fun squad. You’ll enjoy being with us.”
Doubtful. They didn’t have on the black and red the Dragons usually wore. A variety of hoodies and ball caps let her know they weren’t part of a gang. Didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. She sucked air into her lungs, hoping to help her breathe. Best get the hell away from them. But go where? Inside the mill building? The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in there with these thugs, and they could most likely get in even if she managed to lock the door.
Her stomach dropped as they surrounded her. Shit. Holding out the pepper spray with shaking hands, she gave them one last chance. “I’d like to be alone, thanks.”
The spray was ripped out of her fingers. What the hell had she thought they’d do? Whimper at the sight of it then slink off somewhere? Her heart pounded heavily and she jolted as an arm wrapped around her waist. Jerking back against the man behind her, she kicked out at the one in front. Catching him in the stomach, she twisted but another grabbed her leg, causing her to lose her footing. In seconds she was held aloft by three of them and yet another moved closer as she struggled.
“I told you it’d be fun, but you don’t believe me.” This guy seemed like the ringleader.
Fun, right. One brute holding her from behind and a few clutching her legs. Shit, and double damn. She kicked her feet, squirming. Nothing. Oh, God. Why’d she come by herself? Dumb move. Scott had friends who would have come. Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If her heart beat any faster it might explode.
“But I’m okay doing it the hard way. I kind of like someone who fights back.” He flicked his hands away from each other and the thugs pulled her legs apart. Shit, was he going to rape her right here on the street? Sweat trickled down her neck and back.
A scream escaped from her mouth but the guy walking between her legs slapped his hand over her lips stifling the sound. She clamped down on it with her teeth and he pulled it away only to backhand her. Her vision tilted and twirled.
“Tape.”
Shit, damn, fuck. Duct tape covered her mouth as she began twisting and struggling harder. It didn’t matter. It was like she was caught in a steel trap.
The leader ran one hand down her blouse and used the other to pop the snap on her jeans. “Now let’s see these pretty little tits.” The buttons of her shirt scattered as he ripped the front open.
“Look boys, I found Victoria’s secret. I bet she has other secrets we can find.”
Oh, God, oh, God, oh God! This was really happening. Tears streamed down her face as she kicked and squirmed. Her skin crawled as four of them groped her, keeping her from gaining any leverage. The blood rushed from her face and the street swirled around her.
The big fucker’s hands grabbed her waistband, tugging, while the man behind her pulled. Her jeans started to lower and there was nothing she could do to stop these bastards. Tightening her muscles, she squeezed her eyes shut, praying for a miracle.
“I’m not sure the lady is willing.” The soft voice with a different accent had her eyes popping open.
“Fuck, Dragons. Get out of here, man.”
Her body tumbled as the thugs rushed off, but something caught her head before it hit the ground. The tape was gently tugged from her mouth, the taste of glue sour against her lips.
“Are you all right, Ms. Silva?” Footsteps and rustling barely registered as background noise.
Looking up, she saw black clothes, a red bandanna. One of Jian’s friends. Thank God. Truly, she’d be back in church tomorrow saying a shitload of novenas with this sacred rescue.
A giggle escaped. What the hell? The world spun and she crumpled into a ball, sobs racking her body. The tremors wouldn’t stop. It was her own damn fault for being such an idiot.
Arms held her gently, rubbing her back as a soft voice said, “I am Kang. I met you when you were with Holland.”
It took a few moments to rouse from her fetal state. The face nearby looked familiar. He’d been with Jian before. “I remember. Thank you.” Another sob escaped and she wiped her hand across her face. The damn thing wouldn’t stop shaking. “For helping me.”
“You want us to kill these men?” Kang asked, pointing down the street to where several Dragons had the four brutes on their knees, hands on their heads. How had she missed that scuffle? Shit, she’d been out of it. Knives dug into their throats. They were crying now too. Good.
Kill them, yes. She wanted that with every fiber of her being, but that would make her no better than them. “We should let the police take care of them.” Damn her trembling voice.
Kang shook his head. “Police will wonder why a lady like you was here alone. Good lawyer will say you wanted them to take you. Better us to take care of them.”
“Sure, but can you do it without killing them? Teach them a lesson so they won’t do it again.” These creeps couldn’t be allowed to get away with it.
“Yes, teach them not to mess with Dragon’s protected people.” Kang lifted his chin and his friends dragged them off down the street.
“Why are you down here without your man? It’s a dangerous place alone.”
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she glanced left and right. Dangerous. Which meant they needed to find a way to clean it up before they finished renovating the building. Another giggle. Sure, keep her mind on something besides the fact she’d almost been gang-raped. A shiver rushed through her. God, she was a mess.
“Scott’s in jail. I need Jian’s help to find out what’s going on. Do you know where he is?”
“Come with me. I will take you to him.”
Would her legs even work? Tremors shook her enough that she stumbled as Kang assisted her to her feet. Her blouse fell open and she immediately pulled the sides closed. Holy shit, she couldn’t control her twitching muscles. It had been too damn close. Her legs felt like jelly. When she swayed, Kang held her arm and walked her toward a car.
“Here,” he said, handing her a black button-down shirt he pulled from the vehicle. It was huge on her but she didn’t care as she buttoned it all the way up to her neck, fuck the summer heat. Her pants zipper stuck as she tried to get it up, so she only did up the snap and let the shirt hang over it.
“You must put this on before we go.” He handed her a red bandanna and she tilted her head in question.
“You cannot see where we go. It is for your protection. This way you cannot be forced to tell where we are. You do not know.”
She looked up and down the street, her heart racing in her chest. Would the thugs come back? Was she safe? Scott trusted these people, but she still wasn’t sure.
“You are safe. No one will harm you. I promise.”
Nodding, she wrapped the fabric around her eyes, tying it. The car rolled down the street and she sighed at the relief that coursed through her.
“How did you know I was in trouble? Or did you stumble on us while you were watching the building?”
“We have eyes and ears in many places. You are under our protection. I apologize we were not sooner.”
“Oh, your timing was freakin’ perfect. Don’t get me wrong, before they ripped my Dior blouse would have been even better, but you got there before any real harm was done. I am eternally grateful. I guess I now owe you.”
“No, you owe us nothing. Men who rape are cowards, not real men.”
The car slowed then stopped and she was led from the vehicle still blindfolded. Kang helped her so she didn’t trip then she was settled in a comfortable chair. Her nerves still stood on alert and her skin prickled when she felt another presence.
“You may remove the blindfold, Ms. Silva,” Jian said, his voice in front of her. “Thank you for agreeing to keep our location a secret.”
Pulling the bandana down, she said, “Did I have a choice?”
Jian only smiled. “Kang said Holland is in trouble.”
“Yes, I need your help.” Her chest was still tight, her muscles tense, but she had to push past her fear to help Scott. She explained what had happened and that the evidence was stacked against him. “Her name is Carla Findley. I don’t know why she’s claiming Scott did this to her, but he didn’t. I know he didn’t.”
“I will have my people look into it. Could be she is doing this under someone else’s command. We will find out. How can I contact you?”
Heather rattled off her phone number, her heart ripping to shreds at the thought of Scott serving jail time for a crime he didn’t commit. Jian obviously believed he hadn’t done it either because he never even questioned it. Or he didn’t care and his debt to Scott was true.
“Kang will bring you back home.”
“I have my car near the mill.”
“Are you well enough to drive?”
Her stomach still felt like it was going to revolt and her lungs might have collapsed somewhere along the way but she’d pull it all together and be fine. She nodded.
“Then Kang will take you to your vehicle and follow you home. Please, do not argue. Holland would be quite upset if we did not assure your safety.”
The thought did make her feel less anxious, which was strange, since typically having a street gang member follow her home would freak her the hell out.
“Thank you, Jian. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this.” She reached up to kiss his cheek then picked up the blindfold. “I assume I need this again.”
“You are a wise woman, Ms. Silva. Holland is indeed lucky to have you in his life.”
As she sat in the car on the way back, she truly hoped she’d be back in Scott’s life. And that he’d be able to be in hers.