Page 6 of Jackson

In the real world, outside of the prison system, life just didn’t work that way. I, along with the rest of my staff, deserved and would demand respect. It didn’t matter that we were dealing with criminals of whatever caliber.

SAC had hiredmyforce to run this program and having a bunch of their defunct cops coming in here and stomping their feet when they didn’t get there was a sure-fire way of getting them kicked out and replaced with someone else on their squad.

However, at the same time, I didn’t want to be havingthatconversation in front of Gonzalez who looked two seconds away from pissing himself in fear.

“Look…” I plastered a smile onto my face. “I get that, but this was an emergency.”

“Really,” the CO drawled. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s dying in here.”

“That’s because I know how to do my job.” My smile widened, maybe turning a bit sardonic in the process. “Unless you wantedme to call an ambulance and get EMS involved inthatmess. I figured this was the best way to avoid the paperwork.”

At the dreadedP-word, the CO faltered.

“Right… well… he needs to get back with the other inmates.”

“Absolutely, I’ll have him out as soon as I feed him some pain killers.”

Browne narrowed his eyes. “Whatkindof pain killers.”

Interesting.

So was Gonzalez here for selling dope on the streets?

That would certainly go along with my gang theory. He must be if I was getting that kind of question. Non-violent was usually like that—drug trafficking or something else that was equally lower on the felony totem.

“Tylenol. Two hundred milligrams,” I answered.

The CO slowly nodded, shifting until he could see Gonzalez over my shoulder. “The second he’s done with you, you’re going back to your cabin. There’s uniforms there waiting for you and we’ll be doing a head count after a strip search. So don’t think about doing anything stupid.”

“O-Okay.” His small voice answering back had me wanting to crack my knuckles and shove Browne back out into the hallway.

Back down. It’s not your place.

Curbing the urge, I folded my arms over my chest instead. “We all good here?”

“Yeah, but I’m standing right out here. He needs an escort,” Browne said.

Right, whatever.

“Sure thing.” I had the urge to slam the door in his face when he finally stepped back out into the hall, but stopped myself at the last minute.

If anyone were to suspect I was giving any of the inmates special treatment, that would be a one-way ticket back on a bus to SAC. As much as I wanted to spend more time with Gonzalez for god knows what reason, I wasn’t willing to risk his small sabbatical of freedom to do so.

I was a selfish bastard, no doubt, but not at the expense of someone else.

He’d clearly worked hard in getting SAC to see him as a non-threat—this program was only available to those kinds of inmates who showed exemplary attitudes while incarcerated.

Hopefully, sometime soon, I’d get to see him again. Though, maybe next time it wouldn’t be over an injury.

“Thank you.” His voice was quiet as I slipped two Tylenol into his hand, and faced the front of the bottle toward Browne to show him the brand.

“Yeah, no problem.” Once the CO nodded to me, I set it down and fished a cold water bottle out of the mini fridge on top of the counter, handing it over. “Just let me know if the pain gets worse and we’ll reapply that burn cream again.”

He nodded before tossing both pills back and taking a generous swing from the water bottle.

“I appreciate it, thank you.” He flashed a little, cautious smile at me.

My heart clenched tight in my chest. Jesus, he really was beautiful. Such a shame he decided to waste his life on doing something stupid and getting himself locked up.

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