Page 10 of Justice

“And I need you to talk to Drake.” He adds, a pleading look in his eye.

“I’ve tried, but he won’t take my calls.”

“Keep trying, we have to convince him you are still in love with him, steer him away from us.”

Lowering her head, she silently nodded into his chest. Lying to her husband had become an art form for her. From the fake orgasms to the frayed interest in anything he shared with her, the lies came easy.

“Two minutes,” Sanchez announced, adjusting his stance as he continued to stare at the forbidden lovers.

Lloyd reached into his pocket once more, tossing the remaining cash onto the table. “Will this buy another fifteen?”

Sanchez eyed the cash, several hundred-dollar bills staring back at him. “Motherfucker, for that kind of cash, you can eat her pussy for all I care.”

* * *

Lloyd watchedas the officer bound Deidre’s wrists and ankles in cuffs, leading her back behind the locked doors she was a prisoner to. It had cost him a small fortune to see her today, paying the warden to release her from solitary confinement and forgo the required background check to visit the institution. Record of his visit would be lost in some computer glitch, the security footage of his entrance and exit of the facility, erased. Laying his hand on the glass of the window, he could still smell her earthy scent lingering on his fingers. He had taken her against the wall of the room as the officer counted the cash in his hands, not bothering to look as he dropped to his knees and made her scream his name as he lavished the juncture of her thighs with his tongue. He would figure a way to get her out, he had to, his heart would surely stop beating without her.

As Lloyd turned to leave, his mind was focused on trying to formulate a plan to get Deidre out of prison while keeping Drake in the dark. Stopping outside the security door, he waved in earnest to gain the attention of the guard sitting behind the desk.

“Hey,” Lloyd demanded as he slapped the glass partition. “Buzz me out, man.” He needed his phone and wallet, and the guard was blatantly ignoring him, as he continued to talk on his cellphone, turning his back to a now enraged Lloyd Bremmer.

“You should know better than to shit where you eat, Bremmer.”

Lloyd spun on his heels, locking eyes with the man who seemed to appear out of the shadows. “T—Tobias. What are you doing here?” Taking a step back, he hoped his movement would alert the guards, forcing them to investigate.

Tobias stepped forward closing the distance and any hope Lloyd still held for leaving this place alive, died from the look in his eyes.

“You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?” Tobias shook his head, a smirk of annoyance caressing his lips. “Pretending to be a loyal friend, eating at his table, taking money from his pockets, all while fucking his wife.” Tobias sneered in disgust, a dot of spit landing on Lloyd’s trembling chin.

“Drake called me the second Deidre left Boston in his car. The bitch was stupid enough to think he wouldn’t come after her in order to get his car back. Did the two of you really think he wouldn’t notice the looks? The weekends away, using his credit card to pay for trips, so you could fuck his wife behind his back?”

Tobias tips his head to the side, grabbing the collar of Lloyd’s shirt, lifting the man several inches off the floor “And you…did you really think he wouldn’t have an eye on her? He put her here.”

Releasing his closed fist, shoving Lloyd against the wall, the force rattling the glass of the partition.

“All the money you paid the guards so you could fuck her once more, is nothing compared to what he paid them so I could do this.”

Tobias jabbed the knife he had concealed in his hand into Lloyd’s stomach, the blade slicing the flesh like soft butter as he twisted the handle and then pulled back. Lloyd’s eyes grew wide as his gaze fell to the circle of blood spreading against the material of his white dress shirt. Tobias thrust the knife again, clipping the man’s fingers as they stood in the way of his target. Stabbing repeatedly, twisting the blade as he aimed for a new target until Lloyd fell to the ground, the life drifting out of his eyes.

Tobias knelt down, wiping the blade clean against the silk of Lloyd’s suit. “You should have stayed in Boca, my friend.” Standing to his full height, Tobias raps the glass with his knuckles, not bothering to look away from the dead man at his feet as the buzz of the released lock announces his departure. Tobias slides on his Ray-Bans, offers a word of thanks and a wad of cash to each of the guards before stepping into the bright sunlight of a Georgia afternoon.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Molly had always beena morning person, even as a child she woke before the sun, getting her chores out of the way before her brothers had managed to crack open an eye. After the sudden death of her mother, her father dived headfirst into a bottle, never managing to deal with reality, or his responsibilities. When the state came in, threatening to take her and her brothers to foster care, her grandmother stepped in and brought them back to her home; despite the dislike, she had for Molly’s daddy.

Grandma was a resourceful person and showed Molly how to make something out of nothing, trading the little they had for the lot they would need in the future. Everything has value to someone, she would say, as they collected soda cans and bottles on the side of the road, cashing them in for ten cents each.

Those skills she learned so long ago had paid off during her time behind bars. She studied those around her, listened as they shared secrets when they thought they were alone. Keeping an ear to the ground and both eyes open as she waited for an opportunity. Once she had them in her debt, she collected, slowly, one favor at a time.

The day Justice Hart came through the front gates, she knew the girl was going to shake the place up, and she wanted to be beside her when it happened. So, she had called in a few of those favors, forgiven a couple debts and convinced the inmates on their block to believe the story she wove as to why Justice was behind bars. Less than a month later, she and Justice were at the top of the hierarchy, able to do just about anything they wanted, with few exceptions. Molly’s business grew, and her outside connections made it possible to get the stuff the girls in here really wanted, not the shit the state pawned off on them.

With the of the end of the month nearing, the women around here would be running out of items like toothpaste, cigarettes and calling cards, but most of all money. Every inmate was allowed two-hundred dollars a month deposited into an account in the prison bank. Not everyone was able to enjoy that luxury; some had no family, or the family they had turned their backs on them the second the gavel hit the wood. Those were the people Molly targeted. She could bargain with them, trade anything they had of value for something they needed. But it was this time of the month where her business flourished. Those with little or no money in their accounts still needed things, and the prison store didn’t allow credit, but Molly did. With interest, of course.

After brushing her teeth, she shot a look at a still sleeping Justice. The poor girl had tossed and turned for most of the night, Molly suspected she was worried about the lack of news about System-One and if her name was one of the ones they had found. Justice didn’t deserve to be here, but unless some miracle landed in her lap, the warden was never going to allow Justice to walk back out that door.

She passed several officers, giving them their weekly cut, so they turned a blind eye to what she brought back. Inmates, especially those in her block, were never allowed in the main hall without at least two guards and in full shackles, her lack of both was one of the exceptions the warden allowed. As she passed the library, she sent up a silent prayer that today would be the day Olson came to breakfast with good news for Justice. As she rounded the corner in the direction of the loading docks, she heard the distinctive voice of Deidre Hannigan. Quickening her pace, she hurried to the end of the hall, planting her back against the wall as she listened to a pleading Deidre.

“God damn it, Drake. How long are you going to punish me? I said I’m sorry. Pick up the phone.”

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