I waited for the door to click shut and listened to the rubber-soled boots filtering down the hallway from my office. Garcia had given Maris quite the look over before leaving, and I didn’t like it. I knew guards could be abusive, but seeing it there like a movie in slow motion waiting to happen didn’t ease my conscience. I had few options as to what I could do without blowing my cover and endangering my partner.

I slapped the top of the desk, pissed. “What the hell were you thinking, Maris?”

“What did you want me do? Blow the perfect opportunity to get in?” She shrugged me off, taking this role on a bit thick for my liking.

She crossed her arms, with a petulant look, giving me attitude worthy of a delinquent teen. It was disturbing, and I released the stress I’d been holding onto with a deep breath.

Looking up at the chipped tile ceiling I rolled my neck before speaking, “Maris, Maris, Maris…”

“What? I did what I had to do. I took an opportunity to get the Tribe’s attention. Besides, that girl killed her boyfriend or some shit.” She shifted in her chair seeming to not care at all.

“Maris.” She knew better than to take stupid chances. My gut twisted with worry and I regretted taking this assignment.

“Oh come on, she’s not some innocent lamb, Cohen.” The darker part of me wanted to put Maris over my knee and spank her ass until the attitude stopped. Unfortunately the things we knew about each other prevented that from happening. We tried that as a one time thing and knew instantly it would never work-us-together. Maris was every bit as dominant as I was. It made us great partners in the field backing each other up, but it also kept anything more from happening during the time we worked together. Instead, we were at an impasse, butting heads.

“That doesn’t matter,” I said, pissed off.

She scoffed, “It’s not like I was going to let anything happen in the cafeteria.”

I didn’t like her tone of voice and let her know it.

“The guards have tasers and a job to do, one that includes taking down insolent prisoners.” I pointed at her.

“Well, I’m willing to take that risk.” She rolled her eyes at me and I had to hold back from throwing something and causing the kind of sounds that would have the guards running back here to protect her-from me.

Maybe I was getting too old for this shit.

“I can’t protect you if things go to hell in the cafeteria with cameras all over the fucking place.” I didn’t doubt her ability; I questioned the actions of others in that cafeteria I had no control over.

“Cohen, I was fine.” Maris placated.

“We also don’t drag others into this unnecessarily.” I reproached her.

“Girl looked like she wanted to throw a punch at me, but I don’t think her skinny ass arms could have connected the move.” Maris laughed. This wasn’t the least bit funny.

“Fighting gets you in solitary, and the hole doesn’t get us information.” I leaned over her, my jaw flexed. “Stop. Being. A. Brat.”

Sitting down, her legs crossed and swinging, Maris rolled her eyes, again, instigating me further. She knew what buttons to push as much as I did.

“Gotcha, partner.”

I was annoyed that she found this boring or above her right now. Having barely settled into this post, I didn’t need Maris’ outburst to be another complication.

“So did you find anything out in your little tantrum?”

“Yeah, the food tastes like garbage and those Tribe recruits definitely take orders from someone in here.” She picked at her nails, and I grabbed her hand to stop her. The tension eased as we talked.

My intel was limited, until we got inside the Tribe. It wasn’t the worst I had to work with, but it also wasn’t the best. We had to work as a team in here and play each side’s advantage.

“Did you get a name?” I asked.

“Evangelina Corazon as far as I know.” Maris chuckled moving a few items on my desk around.

“Stop it, Maris.” I slapped at her hands. The disorder distracted me, and the brat I’d been working with closely for years was using it against me on purpose. I moved the items back, earning me another snicker.

“I saw you looking at the girl.” She teased.

My eyes rolled as I tried to deflect. “Where else was I supposed to look except at the commotion? Anyway, I need you to be more careful.” I referred to her lunch debacle.

“Someone has to get in good with those bitches, and I don’t think they’re looking for peacocks, Cohen.” She eyed my dick, and I adjusted myself. She might be right, but there had to be someone I could bend enough to give me information. I wouldn’t always be able to pull Maris in when I needed an update.

A knock on the door startled us, and I stepped away from being so close to Maris. Any familiarity would risk blowing our cover.

“Sir.” Garcia opened the door, eyeing both Maris and me. I cleared my throat, and he resumed walking in, pulling the baby-faced boyfriend killer behind him. He gripped her arm roughly despite the shackles she wore which were unnecessary in my office right now. I wanted to pull him off her but a look from Maris stopped me. I glanced at my files for her name. Benedicta Cruz, her head down and subdued for the moment.

“Garcia, can you escort Ms. Ramos here back to her cell. I’m sure she’s contrite after the episode in the lunchroom.” Garcia’s face twisted in a cruel smile, making me uncomfortable. I masked my emotions carefully giving him no reason to suspect anything. Maris walked out the door, leaving him to follow after her ass as she sashayed down the hallway. I’d have to watch Maris, make sure my partner didn’t shank the head guard after this. That girl might be the death of me, but right now I had to attend to this one in my office.

Benedicta finally looked around the room with a curious expression. At face value, I was struck by how innocent she looked. Baby-faced was right. Plump cheeks not yet angled by age and smooth skin my hand itched to touch. Clenching my fist, I also knew how looks could be deceiving.

“Please, sit down.” Gesturing to the chair Maris vacated, the young woman sat down slowly. Her tired movements were deceptive looking like an old woman, which belied her actual age. I observed everything I could about her, wondering if this was just another shrewd contradiction to the truth of who she was according to her file.

The clock above the doorframe ticked loudly. I walked around the desk sitting in my chair.

“I called you in here because I wanted to meet you, review your file, and see how you’re acclimating.” A puff of air escaped from her mouth, the only response I got while her gaze drifted to the window overlooking the sunny yard. I found it irritating that I didn’t command her full attention. Being dismissed by two women in one day bothered me more than I cared to admit. My partner had a free pass; this one did not.

“Well?” I asked her, pressing for more than just acknowledgement.

“You read the file. I’m here for four years, seven months and twenty-nine more days.” God, she was like a reinforced brick wall guarding herself. I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair assessing her.

“Yes, under the assumption you exhibit good behavior.” Her head snapped up so quickly, I was afraid she would wrench her delicate neck. Looking me in the eyes directly, those hazel orbs seemed to sparkle with a hint of defiance and maybe fear. Fear I didn’t like, but that defiance piqued my interest, and my cock hardened shielded from view under the desk.

“What does that mean?” A gentle voice tinged with anxiety answered back.

“It means if you stay out of trouble we won’t have to keep meeting like this.” I smiled to reassure her, but she quickly looked away, apparently tuning me out again. I hated that she gave the birds sitting on the window sill more attention. I was the person in charge of her stay here, but she didn’t seem interested in that fact at all. The only information I had on her was in the file. The investigator in me wanted to know more. How did she end up here serving a sentence for murder?

“I know that Maris provoked you. I spoke with her about that.” She snorted saying nothing more except to squeeze her eyes shut and shake her head.

“She’ll leave you alone from now on.” I promised.

“I’m sure she will.” Ms. Cruz was a tough cookie. Why would she have killed someone close to her? What happened in her life which led her down that destructive path?

“She will because I said so.”

“Do you need a special thank you?” Her eyes met mine. I smirked and leaned over the desk. God, my hand needed something to do before I hauled her up out of the seat and into my lap to spank her myself. All these inappropriate thoughts were dangerous and I skirted the line like never before. I had a job to do, boundaries to maintain and this slip of a girl-well, it wasn’t her fault I was attracted to her and it wasn’t my place to get involved in something insidious. What was it with the women I interacted with today? Instead, I reached for a retractable pen on my desk, clicking it twice before tossing it down.

I let the thank you remark go for now.

“So why did you it, Ms. Cruz?” I picked up the manila folder with her name and inmate number on the tab flipping through papers skimming them over.

“Curious?” She sat back in the chair, her hands clinking from the shackles she currently wore from shaking.

“The file says you hit him.” I flipped the pages to the investigative report provided.

“Thirty-three times.” Her voice dropped low, and her gaze went back to the fucking window, ignoring me. If she kept this up, I would shut the blinds to force her attention.

“In the head.” I clarified wondering how long she would remain impassive.

Still nothing, and I said, “I imagine it was a fucking mess.” The blood splatter alone would have landed everywhere covering her. Had the detectives found soiled clothes? I rummage through the report but nothing was mentioned. For some reason it bothered me. A lot of things bothered me, apparently.

“I imagine it was.” She attempted to cross her legs, right over left, but the shackles prevented her from moving. It was then I noticed her shoes were wet and beginning to leave a small stain on my dark carpeted flooring. It must have been from the incident in the cafeteria, but she held her head high, queenly and I admired the steel of her spine even if I found myself wanting to spank the tacit defiance out of her.

“Did you do it?” I asked her. I watched a plethora of emotions cross her face before going to that blank expression I identified so readily with her in the few minutes she was here with me.

“I was convicted. It doesn’t matter.” Maybe it didn’t matter to her, but it mattered to me, and I was struck by how much I cared. I shouldn’t care, but the bleeding heart in me was making a mess of this introduction.

“Hmm…” I dropped the file, wondering how long she would do this dance with me. Round and round, avoiding questions.

I made a show of smelling the air in my office. “What is that?” I pretended to look around watching her shift uncomfortably in her chair.

“What?” Her guarded face told me she was on to me.

“That smell.” I pointed to her feet watching her face get red.

“Oh.” She remained quiet a moment before beginning again. “My shoes. I spilled milk on them at lunch when I stepped in the meat patty you call a hamburger with no cheese. But don’t worry; I wasn’t going to cry about it.”

“I didn’t think you would, but I’ll see if I can get you a new pair.” I took out a pad of paper to make a note about replacing her shoes, but she stopped me.

“I’d rather you didn’t. The smell keeps people away, and I’ve sort of grown accustomed to it.”

That smell was going to get worse and if anything it would get her ass beat in no time. I was definitely getting her new shoes whether she liked it or not.

“You don’t have to make your time here more difficult, Ms. Cruz.” I made the note to find her new shoes despite her protest and maybe a few other things she would need. I had no idea if she had funds deposited into the commissary for use yet. Probably not.

“Don’t I?” Hardened, her eyes glared at me.

“I can make this easier on you.” I said trying to be kind but missing the mark. Her eyes sparked and she must have read that as an innuendo I hadn’t meant to imply, at least not out loud.

“I’d rather you didn’t. I’d hate to grow soft with longing for things I shouldn’t.” Our eyes met again, and I wanted her to be soft. It made my job easier, but she was determined to go the hard route. So be it.

I muttered more to myself than to her. “Day one and you’re already anti-social.”

“At least I’m not medicated or withdrawing.” She muttered.

“No, do you need to be?” I teased and the corner of her mouth lifted but nothing more. I thought about the addicts in here and the psychiatrist on staff who seemed awfully willing to pop pills and shoot them up if it kept them compliant. I didn’t want that for her.

She shook her head and answered my earlier statement.

“Isn’t that what they tell you to be in here? Be strong and keep to yourself. Do the time; don’t let the time do you.” She folded her arms around her middle protectively. Her bravado was all for show. There was a lot to admire about her right up front.

Grabbing the pen I tossed, I clicked it, pointing it in her direction. “All right, Benedicta, but I’ve got my eye on you.” Making my notes and dropping the pen in my cupholder, I had my eye on a number of things. For now, I liked how her name rolled off my tongue, old school and beautiful. Unfortunately her expression took on a cynical edge, her defenses erecting a high wall before my eyes.

“It’s Cruz. I don’t want to be that familiar with you or anyone else.”

“Four years, seven months, and twenty nine days is long time to be without an ally in here.” I steeple my fingers, watching her, waiting.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Our conversation seemed to make her turn in more on herself, and I was sorry to see her go. I hadn’t learned much of anything from her except that I was in trouble if this attraction got out of hand. I didn’t need to torture myself stroking my dick in private to avoid throwing her up against a wall.

She jumped up when a knock on the door sounded. Garcia helped himself to the door and took Ms. Cruz by the arm, leading her out. I said nothing as she stumbled away and didn’t look back. I watched them walk down the corridor and out of sight. Letting go of a heavy sigh, she’d just have to learn to trust me.

Alone, I pored over her file again. I was going to meet with the other women on the roster today, but first, I had to wrap my mind around what she’d told me. It wasn’t so much in what she said, but the implication that left a big fucking door wide open. She had said she imagined it was a mess, not that she knew or had even seen it in person. She told me she was convicted and that it didn’t matter, like she had given up on herself when the system clearly did. I didn’t like the questions it raised or the nagging in my gut. Cursing, I knew Benedicta Cruz was going to be more trouble than Maris had ever been.