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 cleanmy 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 weresadly 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 toclose 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 hismess anymore.”
“How longam I in here?”
“Until youget 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’dbe 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 hereto 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 hernape stood up.
“Ooh wee, lookie what we got here.”
