Slammer

“She’s been green-lighted,” he said around my chokehold.

My fist loosened. “That’s old news. She doesn’t work here anymore anyway.”

“No. The green-light’s been extended past the prison walls. She’s fair game no matter where she is. Some mob boss wants her pretty little head on a plate.”

I dropped him to the ground with a thump.

Was he telling the truth?

What the fuck was going on, and was the mob involved somehow?

There had been a lot of deaths lately. Starting with Carlos and ending with Jose and his boys. Maybe the Mexican Mafia was affiliated somehow?

Ideas flowed through my head like water, but nothing stuck. Nothing made sense.

The dynamics of Fulton had shifted once again, and I had a feeling that an outside source was to blame. People were acting afraid. Gangs stuck closely to themselves, and everyone was being quiet. It was totally fucked up, but something was definitely going down.

FIRST THING, I needed to get the fuck out of Fulton. If the green-light had been extended past the prison walls, then she was no longer safe. I couldn’t sit there and wait without knowing what was happening to her.

I’d already lost Scoop; I wasn’t about to lose Lyla, too. I couldn’t make it without her. Wouldn’t even try to make without her. I had to get to her before anyone else did, and I needed to do that fast.

I paced my cell for two days before an idea struck me. Without hesitation, I slammed my fist as hard as I could into the cinderblock wall. My knuckles cracked against the cement, sending my blood splattering to the floor by my feet. Pain shot up my air, but I held it in, gripping my fist until I could get an officer’s attention and get hauled off to the infirmary.

Once my escort came and the doors to the infirmary were opening, I knew there was no going back. Something inside me shifted, and instinct had me looking around for her face. I closed my eyes, wishing I could see her, touch her soft skin and kiss her sweet lips.

Dr. Giles came in, his eyes dropping to my hands as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He shook his head and sighed. “Put him in there.” He motioned to an open bed.

He followed me into a curtained space and then shook his head again. “What did you do this time?” he asked as he began to clean my battered hand. He eyed my suspiciously.

“I got mad,” I said honestly.

“Mad about what?”

“Scoop,” I muttered. His name burned my tongue like hot sauce.

Giles lowered his eyes and glanced over his shoulder to see if the COs were watching from across the room. They stood, leaning against the desk and talking among themselves. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know he was your friend.”

I jerked and hissed as he poured straight alcohol over my knuckles.

“I also know you two were trying to set up Lyla.”

His eyes found mine, and I didn’t even try to hide my surprise. How had he found out?

He grinned as I searched his face for an answer to my unasked question.

“I’m not stupid, son. I’ve been around long enough to know what you guys were up to. I knew about her being green-lighted, and I actually was relieved when she quit. It was getting way too dangerous around here for her.”

“Agreed,” I said through gritted teeth.

Dr. Giles had no qualms about bringing the pain. It was more than obvious he was getting off on it since he kept pouring alcohol into my cut.

“She’s still in danger,” I said, finally putting my plan into place. His eyes moved from my knuckles and searched my face. “I’m telling the truth. Someone on the outside is trying to get to her now.”

His face paled. “How do you know?” he asked while he bandaged my knuckles.

“I shook it out of another inmate. I need to get to her, Doc.

“Leave it to the authorities.”

I shook my head. Surely, he wasn’t serious. The authorities couldn’t protect their own. What the fuck could they do for Lyla now? Especially since half the cops were in the pockets of someone.

“Seriously?” I looked at him incredulously. He couldn’t be that daft.

He sighed deeply, coming to the same conclusion I had this whole time.

“Can you help me get out of here?” I took a risk and asked.

Asking someone to help break you out of prison was a huge violation. It meant permanent isolation, but I was willing to risk it.

“I know you care about her, too, Giles. She’s like a daughter to you. Please, let me save her. You know I’m right about this. You know it.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, his eyes studying me intensely. “You’re allergic to Penicillin, right?”