She’d changed her legal name.
I almost felt that a good shanking would be less painful than what he’d just read off. I’d gotten the article slipped into my cell this morning, and I was still struggling to fully comprehend what the paper was telling me. My Daisy was getting married. To someone else. To thisMaxguy. Who the fuck was he?
“Max Stanton is the oldest son of the influential and wealthy billionaire, Alfred Stanton. Alfred grew his wealth through investing in real estate in the 80’s. Having recently retired, Alfred (65) has left all of the Stanton business to his son, Max (22).”
My breathing must have gotten louder, because theshithead paused and looked over. “Maybe it’s not her that triggered you but him.”
Bingo.
“Do you not like Max Stanton? This rich billionaire? I mean, it would stand to reason, considering your last victim.” He wasn’t talking to me, but at me. If I wasn’t so furious, I’d laugh at him. Hawkins claimed to have a degree; he had the pretty paper hanging on his wall and everything. I didn’t believe for a second it was real. I could do his job. He set the paper on his desk and leaped up.
“Yes, that’s it! You grew up struggling for money. Your mother said so in her tell-all book. Which, by the way, was an instant bestseller. Not that you seem to care. I got a signed copy.” He picked up a book and waved it. I turned my head, but not quick enough to miss the photo of my mother and me from 15 years ago on the cover. My stomach twisted, and I swallowed the vomit down.
I didn’t want to throw up with a mask over my nose and mouth. Sick or not, they wouldn’t be removing my muzzle until I was back in my cell. Hawkins didn’t pay any attention to my reaction to the mention of my mother. That would have told him more than the article he was focusing on. I snickered, thinking about it.
What a fucking moron.
“You take ‘eat the rich’ literally,” he said in a very matter-of-fact tone as he went behind his desk to scribble it down. While I hated the fucker, I could admit that it was a good tagline. I could see the YouTube true crime channels popping off with it.
It was way better than Emile ‘make-a-meal-out-of-you’ Dumas.
I’d been given a lot of nicknames, but there was only one that mattered to me.
Gatsby.
A loud, firm rap sounded at the door, prompting Hawkins to look up from his notes, bored. “I’m done.”
Two guards, Verveen and Parati, barged in as if they were expecting me to have gotten out of my restraints. They quickly unlocked my handcuffs from the chair and linked them together, leaving me in two pairs. They fixed my feet shackles as well so I could walk back to my cell.
“Anything else?” Verveen asked the psychiatrist.
Hawkins looked at me, and I glared back.
“Do you have anything you’d like to say, Dumas?” Hawkins goaded.
Give me my paper back, I thought, but chose to not say anything. If I did, he’d light it on fire in front of me. I couldn’t risk that. I’d find a way to get it back later. It had her picture on it. Without another word, I was escorted back to my confines.
They shoved me inside my cell, and we went through the routine of removing my leg shackles, my mask, and then the wrist cuffs.
“You better now, Dumas?” Verveen snickered as he pulled away, his arms full of the restraints.
“Which one of you fucks told Hawkins I had contraband?” I gripped the bars and pushed my face against the metal.
“You keep squawking in here like you did this morning, and we’ll have to take you to solitary. You upset your neighbors.”
“I doubt Chip or Scott are upset. You guys mad at me?” I shouted, pushing my body harder against the cage. The guards leaped back. Their faces paled as I grinned at them.
“Fuck no!” Chip yelled back.
“Why should we be?” Scott replied. “You’re not trying to eatus.”
“True. According to Hawkins, I’m only interested in the rich,” I quipped.
“Well then, you’ll go hungry here.” Chip cackled like a hyena.
Verveen rammed his baton into my abdomen, shoving me back. “Stand down, Dumas. You step up to those bars again and we’ll put the mask back on,” he warned me. “You’ll only take it off for meals.”
I did as ordered. Out of all the shitty things I had to deal with in here, the face mask was the worst part. It was uncomfortable and hot, although it did make me appear much more terrifying than without.
