Page 11 of Justice

Peeking around the corner, she saw Officer Sanchez standing with his back against the wall, counting several twenties in his hand as Deidre slammed the receiver of the pay phone into the cradle. Resting her forehead against the back of her hand still gripping the receiver, her shoulders shaking with her silent sobs.

“Times up, Hannigan. You had three calls today, which is more than what we agreed on.”

Molly waited a moment longer, curiosity getting the better of her, to see if Deidre would comply with Sanchez or counter his offer. Her sources had reported Deidre putting feelers out for an allegiance to take Justice down, placing herself as the new leader, allegedly promising all kinds of shit she would need help in providing.

When Deidre dropped her arms to her side in defeat, Molly knew she would never make it as a leader in this place. Deidre Hannigan was all bark and no bite, her unwillingness to make this Drake listen to her, or bargain Sanchez into more phone or internet time, spoke volumes in Molly’s eyes.

“It’s your lucky day, Hannigan. The warden is allowing you back to your cell block.” Sanchez said as he tightened the handcuffs on Deidre’s wrists. Molly’s eyes widened in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the laugh bubbling inside her throat. Maybe Deidre wasn’t as head-strong as she assumed her to be.

Stepping around the corner and out of her eavesdropping spot, she kept her shoulder to the wall as she walked toward them, not trusting this unfamiliar side of Deidre.

“Morning, Molly.” Officer Sanchez greeted her, as a second officer came through the door next to them. Deidre raised her cold eyes to Molly, her signature sneer making its appearance as Molly grew closer.

“What are you looking at, you ugly bitch?”

Molly crosses her arms, leaning comfortably against the wall as if not a care in the world, her resting-bitch-face on maximum impact. “Ugly I may be, but I ain’t the one begging a man to pick up the phone and talk to me.”

Deidre’s eyes flash wide for a second, her nostrils flaring with the sudden intake of oxygen, but she remains silent. Her eyes never leave Molly as the second officer pushes her down the hall and around the corner.

“Come on,” Sanchez starts. “We’ve got shit to talk about.”

Molly joins in step with him as they make their way down the hall toward the docks. Butterflies attack her gut as Sanchez, who is normally quite talkative, remains silent. She is smart enough to keep her mouth closed as they pass the security desk, the back entrance to the kitchen, and finally the staff entrance. Sanchez slides his badge through a slot at the top of the security keypad, typing in his code as the red light shifts to green.

As the metal door opens and the humid air of the Georgia morning hits her in the face, she follows Sanchez out to the edge of the loading dock, where her shipment awaits her.

“Gotta love the end of the month.” She probes testing the waters to see what is wrong with him. Sanchez hooks his hands on his hip, which isn’t unusual for him out here. But his lack of emotion and the thin line of his lips tells her something is definitely wrong.

“Here’s your cut,” offering the rolled-up cash in her fist. “You mentioned needing to talk to me?”

Sanchez looks to her hand and the edge of the cash visible beyond the tips of her fingers. Reaching out, Sanchez wraps his fist around hers, his tan fingers covering her pale ones.

“No money this time, I need you to do as I ask instead.”

Molly stands slightly shocked by his refusal of the cash. From practically the first shipment she received, Sanchez has brought her out here, exchanging money for what came in on the bread truck that morning. She had chosen him out of all the others due to the way he treated the women inside, and how he skirted around the warden, doing what she asked, but not beyond like Stone did.

“Okay?” she agreed cautiously.

“I need you to spread the word, Hannigan has solicited Olson for protection. Hired her some big-shot attorney who has deep connections and a stellar record for murder cases. And a G for every week she remains free from the Warden’s Chosen.”

“All right, but wh—"

“I’m not finished,” he interrupted, his hard features matching the bite in his words.

“Tomorrow, you and Justice need to be at the infirmary right after breakfast. I don’t give a shit how you get her there, just make sure you sign in and the nurse sees you.”

CHAPTEREIGHT

Justice hated seeingthe prison doctor. When Molly reminded her she had missed her checkup last month due to the holidays, she knew the argument would waste twenty minutes of her day and her ass would be sitting in the waiting area, regardless.

“Morning, Nurse Walters.” Molly’s oddly sweet voice called out as the pair walked through the metal door. “Your hair looks nice; did you get it done recently?” Justice had the overwhelming need to slap Molly, and demand to know what was wrong with her this morning, she was never this polite to anyone, not even her.

“I did, thank you for noticing,” fluffing the curl by her chin. “Although my mother says it’s too red and will attract the wrong attention.” The last few words are spoken in a whisper as the nurse discretely looks around as if her mother is going to jump out from one of the corners.

“Well, isn’t that the point of being bold, to get a little attention?” Molly adds, keeping enough distance between them so the officer outside the door doesn’t feel the need to come inside. The nurse’s cheeks redden as she spins the clipboard in Molly’s direction. “I mean, you do work alongside the handsome, and as far as I know, single, Dr. Hanson.”

“All right, now, you go ahead and sign in. You too, Hart. Dr. Hanson will be here any minute and I’ll make sure you two are first.”

As the pair sits in the plastic chairs across from the television mounted on the wall, Molly crosses her arms over her chest, a Cheshire grin on her face as she settles in, focusing on the morning news playing on the screen.

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