Page 6 of Justice

Molly had a point, although Justice had never had the privilege of having a substantial amount of money. Her mother was struggling to raise two daughters when Red came along. At first, he seemed like a great guy, bringing them gifts and taking them to dinner. He made her mother smile and paid the bills so she had to work less, which meant she and her sister got to spend more time with her. After Red and her mother married, everything started to change. First, he moved them from the home her father had built to the shitty little house he rented, next to the clubhouse. He made her mother quit her job and began filling her arms with the drugs he sold to pay the bills. Every dime they had went into his pocket, even the bereavement pay her mother received from the death of her father.

“All inmates are to return to their cells immediately.” The warden’s voice carries over the speakers in the corner. Grabbing their trays, and the newspaper Justice hadn’t finished, the pair makes their way to the trash, tossing out their untouched food and heading up the stairs to the second floor.

As they pass the closed cells of several inmates, Molly reminds a few girls that their bill is due, and two others their merchandise is on the way. As the horn blasts from the far wall, announcing the main doors to the block are about to open, they stand against the rail to watch the new prisoner being escorted in.

The acoustics of the space carry the voices of the guards, amplifying the words they speak from normal conversations to shouts of reprimand. The familiar rattle of shackles echoes down the hall, announcing the new prisoner a second before her thick Boston accent does.

She’s got balls, Justice thinks to herself, as the angry woman demands the guards take their filthy hands off her.

“Reminds me of you,” Molly jokes. Although Justice had been cooperative when she came down the hall, the moment Officer Stone put his hands on her crotch, she spit in his face, telling him not to touch her.

Deidre, like all the others, shuffled into the room with her ankles shackled, her arms carrying sheets, a few toiletries, and one threadbare towel.

Even without makeup, Deidre was a beautiful woman, and Justice had no doubt the warden would begin encouraging her to join the rest of the Chosen at Area Sixty-Nine. Vibrant auburn hair, with severe highlights, pulled back in a tight ponytail at the back of her head, sun-kissed skin, and a slender body. Even behind the prison scrubs, Justice could tell she had a decent rack.

Deidre’s violet eyes drifted up, locking in on Justice and Molly. The angry scowl turned into rage as she shifted the items in her hand and flipped the pair off.

Justice kept her face stoic, she would give the new girl a day to adjust to her new life before letting her know who was in charge around here, setting the boundaries everyone in the block knew to stay within.

Deidre showed everyone watching she wasn’t easily intimidated as she screamed at her new cellmate. “Move your ass, trailer trash.” Followed by Justice’s personal favorite, “Where the fuck are my cigarettes?”

As the horn buzzed again, Justice turned to Molly, “That’s all you, girl. Go sell her some fucking cigarettes.”

CHAPTERFOUR

Another Saturday nightfound Justice sitting on the bus as it idled outside the back door of Area Sixty-Nine. Raindrops fell against the window, distorting the exterior lights of the building and sending a chill through her body. As she exited the bus, she tried to see if the Senator’s SUV was parked in the lot, but Stone shoved her against the brick of the building, his chest crushing her against the rough surface.

“Senator Graham is in the VIP area. He’s paid for two hours, and you better make him happy.” Stone reaches under her top, taking a handful of her right breast and squeezing as he buries his nose in her hair. “Fuck this up, and you’ll wish to God you were Jones’s whore tonight.”

Each time Stone touched her; Justice pictured how the life would drain from his body. She had imagined a thousand ways to make him suffer, hours upon hours spent in pain and misery, begging her to kill him. She would, of course, but not a second before she’d collected the revenge she deserved.

Digging his nails into her tender flesh and rubbing his miniscule cock against the side of her leg, he slid his flattened tongue down the side of her face. The smell of his breath induced a wave of nausea which nearly took over, making her lose what little dinner she had managed to shove down her throat.

Stone was wasting his breath on Justice, she found Senator Graham to be one of the nicer men who passed through the doors of the strip club. He was a tall man, a dash over six feet she would guess, slender body and impeccable grooming. Preferring cognac over whiskey, he always sat in the private VIP area and enjoyed watching more than participating. Unlike Jones, Graham was cordial to the girls who pleased him and never came with an entourage of assholes he needed to impress.

As she shuffled through the back door of the club, Officer Sanchez removed the shackles while Stone gave the warden’s usual warning. It struck her as odd; in all these years, the warden had never missed a single night.

Music blared as the women were escorted to the main floor. Stone gripped Justice under her arm, dragging her to the side of the stage where the VIP rooms were housed. His fast pace too much for her platform shoes, and she stumbled several times.

Stone places his hand on the knob, but hesitates before opening the door, “If he leaves before his time is up, Senator Jones wants what’s left.” A sinister smile frames his teeth; the blue lights of the hall making them appear dark and decayed. The electric blue enhances the evil on his face as Justice adds one more scenario to his impending demise, pulling out each of those teeth.

Senator Graham stands with his back facing them, hands shoved in pockets as he watches the action on the floor. Justice looks past him to see what has captured his attention. Senator Jones has Mandy splayed across the table, his dick buried in her ass, while one of the men at his table watches.

“You may leave now,” Graham announces, his voice deep with authority, while his attention remains on the scene below.

“Sorry, Senator, but the Warden—"

“Veronica isn’t here, now is she?” Graham interrupts, as Justice struggles to keep the giggle from his reprimand to herself.

“No, sir, but—”

“But what, Glynn? Afraid you’ll miss what you came in here in the hopes of seeing?”

The Senator’s use of Stone’s first name leaves him speechless, and confused as to how to proceed, stumbling over his own tongue as he searches for what to say.

Graham moves away from the privacy window as he turns in their direction, his face stoic, eyes hard as he removes his hands from his pocket, a tiny black box in his hand. Pressing the box toward the curtain, the soft hum of the motor purrs from the corner as the curtain slowly closes.

“I’m aware of the rules Veronica has for this establishment, as I’m the one who wrote them.”

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