Page 13 of Judas

“Warren?”

“Nadia.”

“You’re curious, aren’t you?”

I’ve been around enough shitty men in my life to know interest when I see it. If not for me, then for the predicament we are in, and this two-pump-chump is no different. He wants to keep pestering me, then lets make him even more uneasy.

“Curious about what?”

“This place… Bluitt. The women here. Or perhaps what it was like for me in Darkwater. You don’t give a damn about the story between Kace in I, at least not in the way you’re playing it off. You want to know how things went from nothing to a child. What he was like, what you aren’t doing to keep your girlfriend satisfied. What Kace would do to the both of us that have us both clinging to a dead man.”

He falters. “You’re only half wrong. I want to know why an officer fell for an inmate and vice versa.”

Mistake number one, asshole, don’t stutter.

“You sure? It’s not hard to see what the appeal is, at least from a guard’s perspective. Take me, for example. I’m in here day inand day out, with nowhere to go. I am trapped. I cannot run. I’m the easiest prey known to man.”

With a chauvinistic tip of his chin, I catch his interest.Yeah, he wants to know about the way things work.Leaning forward, my handcuffed hands twist where they are able to grip and squeeze the chains that keep me restrained to the table. The metal is ice cold in my hands, biting at the skin there, even pinching if I move at all. My head tilts to the side, eyes roaming him from his head to where his body disappears under the tabletop.

Let’s see what else I can get him to do. He may be denying the truth of being here, but the shifting is a dead giveaway. He’s interested in the power exchange. I guess his girlfriend wears the pants in their relationship and he wants to flip the script. Scooting to the edge of my seat, the tone of my voice lowers just slightly and I lace it with what some would consider curiosity.

“Imagine having uninhibited access to something you want and having a plethora of it. Drugs? The men in Darkwater had an endless supply of it. They did what they needed to get their fix—whether that be blowing some other inmate or getting their ass blown out. Smokers? They peddled and traded. People who wanted the burner phone? More favors.”

It’s interesting how he hasn’t moved since I started giving him details that sit only at the tip of the iceberg. His eyes are glued to mine, every bit of his attention focused on me. I can feed this fucker whatever I want. Lies, conspiracies, half truths, hell… whole truths, at that. He’d eat it like a death row meal. Maybe I should.

No, I will.

“The racists, if they want someone dead, will pull whatever strings they need to make sure that person leaves in a polyethylene bag. Whether that be by bribing the officers who guard them, or even reaching out beyond the walls of the prison to ensure fair treatment in court. Sometimes they wouldn’tescape punishment, therefore it was imperative they got the added time lessened. That is an invaluable resource in prison—fair treatment. Going down for murder when you’re incarcerated for drugs is a whole different ball game. So, what’s the difference between sex with the guards and the inmates?”

Warren is hanging on to my every word now, waiting for the juicy details to put his idiotic true crime stories back in front of listeners.

Anything for a dollar, I suppose.

I chew on the inside of my cheek before I continue speaking. Teeth pinching and puncturing the very soft tissue and ripping through it without an ounce of pain— contemplative, or nervous, habit. I confess. Using the action to my advantage, I pretend as though this conversation, and the details, are so heavy that it’s causing little ol’ me some anxiety.

“These women here, they have their hands and whatever toys they can find to stimulate them. Sometimes each other. The male guards are not immune to wanting the women they oversee, just like the officers at Darkwater. My relationship with Kace grew naturally, over the entirety of my tenure. It’s only human nature to find companionship in someone you see daily—someone who listens to you.”

Eat it up, fuck head.

“I don’t want to know about your feelings, Nadia.” Warren interjects.

“I know. You want to know how he fucked me. If I let him do the same things to me as he did to his ex. Right? What’s her name? Elena? Elaine? Hmm, I can't quite remember. She must not be that impressive. Suppose she wasn’t since she couldn’t keep Kace on her hook.”

Leaning back in my seat, I watch as he turns a bright shade of red. The curiosity he initially had becomes overshadowed by something else anger I hope. I always loved seeing people soangry and unable to do much about it. The way Warren’s back stiffens and his shoulders square up, I bet you it’s jealousy—how very interesting.

Off to the side, I can hear the orderlies and other inmates beyond the securely closed door. The heavy, double layered metal blocks Warren and I from curious glances. While their noise persists, I keep my sights on him. Waiting for him to pipe up, maybe he will grow a bigger pair of balls today and let me know what he’s truly after. This beating around the bush is a little juvenile. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks up, and here, I thought our time was coming to an end.

No such luck.

“Yes, my girlfriend. We’ve been together for a long time and she is fascinated with the whole ordeal.”

“We do love a good confession. Go on, Warren.”

“My relationship is not up for discussion.”

“And mine is?” I snort.

“Kace is dead. You don’t have a relationship anymore. What you have is memories and a prison sentence. A child who will never know you and a career that is as dead as the man you love. So, yes, yours is, because yours is over.”

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