Surveillance cameras are in pieces on the ground, shattered beyond recognition. The corridor starts to clear out, and when we’re completely alone, I start trying the handles of the doors, searching for anywhere I can stash this woman for the time being.
They’re all locked, and just as I come up to the janitorial closet where all the cleaning supplies are kept for C-block, I hear someone coming our way. “FUCK!” I grunt, trying the handle again, only to shove against it and break the locking mechanism. It swings open, and just as someone comes around the corner, I shove Aria inside, quickly following behind her.
“Get in,” I say, pushing her deeper into the small closet, the smell of cleaning products already singeing my nose as I grab a shelving unit and move it in front of the door, barricading us in.
“What are you . . . What . . . What do—”
I shove her against the shelving unit, my hand clamping over her mouth. “I thought I made myself clear. No questions asked.”
Aria shoves me away, and I reluctantly give her space before searching the small closet. It won’t be long before word gets around that she’s wandering the halls like a chew toy, and when the other prisoners find out, I need to have her out of sight. And this janitor’s closet is the first place they’re going to look.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, looking around for anything. My gaze shifts up to the ceiling hatch above. My brow arches. What are the chances that I can break through that?
It looks as though it’s been welded closed, but the technician who did it hasn’t done a good job. If I could get something to jimmy between those gaps, there’s a chance I could snap it open.
I dig through the shit on the shelves. “Move,” I tell Aria, getting to the unit at her back.
“What are you looking for?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. A screwdriver or something small and heavy-duty.”
“Why? Gonna rip my throat out too?”
“Ever forced a young inmate to suck your cock until it hit the back of their throat, only to slit his throat in front of fifty fucking prisoners?”
She gasps, looking at me in horror. “WHAT? No!”
“Then I suppose I don’t need to tear your throat out, do I?”
“Fuck,” she grunts, starting to pace as she shakes her head. “Is that really the shit that goes on in here?”
“What do you think? That it was all rainbows and unicorns? That the assholes in here live by a moral compass and would kindly ask for consent before trying to fuck you? You think if you say no, they actually respect your decision and apologize for trying to cross boundaries? The men in the real world aren’t that respectful, so why the fuck would it be any better in here? This is a fucking maximum security prison, Menace. This is the worst of the worst.”
She huffs and grabs containers of shit, tipping them out, searching through the wreckage. “Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Aria. Not . . . not Menace.”
My head whips toward her, my brows furrowed. The fuck did she just ask me? She has got to be fucking kidding me right now. Why is she doing this? I figured at first she was trying to pretend as though there’s not a world of history between us in front of her boss, but now? What’s the fucking point? It’s just us here.
I want to argue with her, to knock some goddamn sense into her and find out why the fuck she keeps denying all this basic shit, but I notice a piece of rebar in the pile of shit she just poured out. “There. Give me that,” I say, trying to put a lid on my temper. I can deal with all that other shit later. For now, I need to figure out how the fuck I’m going to break us both out of this hellhole, and once that’s done, I can set my sights on the she-devil beside me.
The benefit of being six-seven is that I don’t need a ladder when trying to fuck with the ceiling, and as I jam the old piece of rebar into the hole and try to break through the welds, nothing stands in my way.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” Aria sneers.
“We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
She scoffs, irritation thick in her tone, and it’s more than clear that she’s had enough of this bullshit, but she’s not the only one. “Don’t know if you’re aware, but this is a maximum security prison. There is no getting out of here. Do you have any idea how many security gates I had to get through just to get to the first induction room? Hate to break the news, assshole, but we’re not going anywhere.”
“Have it your way, princess,” I grunt, breaking through the last of the shitty welds and popping the ceiling hatch out, opening us to a whole world of potential. “But I’m getting out of here. Feel free to take your chances on your own.”
With that, I reach up and grab the frame of the manhole and pull myself up into it, leaving Aria to fend for herself as I disappear above.
“FUCK!” she grunts, pacing the small room, clearly not enjoying any of her chances, but she knows damn well that if she stays behind, her ending is going to be far worse than the one I have in store for her. “Wait. I’m coming.”
8
ARIA
When I arrived at Hartley Creek this morning, the worst thing I thought I would have to deal with was the pile of projectile vomit I left in the parking lot. If someone told me I would be spending my day crawling through an old manhole as an almost-hostage with a convicted murderer who’s attempting to break out in the middle of a riot, I’d commit myself to the psych ward, because there is no way in hell this shit could be real.
