Ritchie gasps, eyes wide. He tries to shove me off, but I slam him back, his head hitting the shelves. His buddies don’t move, not stupid enough to get between us.
He spits out blood, stuttering, “Alright, alright—shit, man, I didn’t mean anything?—”
I hit him again, this time in the gut. He folds, coughing, face twisted in pain. “If you so much as look at her again, I’ll break every finger on your hand,” I say, voice steady, deadly calm.
He’s on his knees now, clutching his stomach, eyes full of fear.
A shout rings out behind me. “Hey! Break it up!” One of the officers rushes over, boots pounding on the tile.
I don’t let go. My knuckles are white on Ritchie’s shirt, blood trickling down his chin as he wheezes for breath.
“JC, stop,” Carrie pleads, grabbing my arm. “Please, let it go. He’s not worth it.”
I barely hear her. Rage is buzzing in my head, hot and heavy, drowning out everything but the need to protect her.
The officer grabs my shoulders, trying to wedge himself between us. “I said break it up! Now!”
I shove Ritchie once more, hard enough to make him stumble, then finally release him. The officer hauls me back, but I’m still glaring at Ritchie, chest heaving.
“You got a problem, Calhoun?” the officer snaps.
I shake my head, eyes never leaving Ritchie. “No problem. Just teaching some respect.”
The officer isn’t done. He grips my arm tighter, signaling another guard to help. “You’re coming with us, Calhoun. You know the rules.”
I don’t resist. They pull me away from Carrie out past the reading tables and through the library doors. My heart’s still thundering in my chest, but all I feel is cold satisfaction. I’d do it again without thinking.
Carrie calls after me, her voice shaky, “JC, wait—please, he didn’t mean?—”
The officer ignores her, pushing me down the hall. “That’s enough, Saxe. Back to work.”
I look back over my shoulder, catching one last glimpse of Carrie’s worried face before they drag me out of sight. Her eyes are full of fear, but for once, I’m not the one afraid.
I don’t regret it for a second. Not after what Ritchie did. Not after the way Carrie looked at me. I’d take the punishment. She’s worth it.
They haul me toward the security office, already talking about solitary or yard restrictions. Doesn’t matter. If anyone else touches her, I’ll break more than just a nose.
15
CARRIE
The library feels emptier after they drag JC out. My hands won’t stop shaking as I try to restack the books that nearly toppled during the fight. The other inmates steer clear now. No one looks at me. Still, I can’t stop glancing at the door, hoping Jace will walk back in.
I feel awful. He only stepped in to protect me, and now he’ll pay for it. My chest aches with guilt. I wish I could take it back, but the memory of Ritchie’s hand and the look on Jace’s face makes my stomach twist.
A guard who was standing nearby through it all moves closer. He’s older, with tired eyes, arms crossed as he watches me put the last book away. He clears his throat.
“You know that inmate?” His tone isn’t hostile, just curious, maybe even a little concerned.
I hesitate, eyes on my hands. “A long time ago,” I lie. I don’t know what the rule is for having any kind of familiar ties with the prisoners, but I don’t think they’ll look at it too kindly. And besides, Rodriguez told me explicitly not to warrant any kind of attention around here.
I sigh. Well, that’s down the drain now.
The guard nods, looking me over, as if weighing whether to push. “He went after that guy pretty hard.”
I bite my lip. “He was just trying to help. It’s not his fault.”
The guard doesn’t reply, simply walks away. I don’t know what’s in JC’s fate now. Solitary, or something worse?
