Page 14 of Judas

My, how the tables have turned. Good job, Warren.

Tilting my head until it hits the backrest of the chair, I peer up at the sagging and dingy mineral fiber ceiling tiles above us then laugh to myself. Not one of those where it hurts your stomach and you wheeze but one just deep enough to make your chest rattle. If Warren is going to be a sensitive little bitch about everything, I’ll start assaulting other inmates on the days he’s due to visit. Cut him off from the source, so to speak. Getting tossed in seg is the better alternative, I also get to sleep for twenty-three hours of the day without anyone bothering me outside of delivering food.

Wonder if he would make up the details then, or if he would get creative and come find me in solitary.

Maybe I’ll play it the non-violent way; reach out to my lawyer instead and go about filing a restraining order on Warren for harassment. Actually, I’m pretty sure this interrogation room doesn’t have cameras turned on since he’s not a detective and there’s nothing to capture. Not to mention, the insistent curiosity about my former sex life is violating the Prison Rape Elimination Act. Where any employee, representative, or vender of a facility partakes in sexual harassment can and usually will end up convicted.

I could play the assaulted victim role, I’ve had the practice.

Little shit has made it quite obvious that he is after the intimate details of mine and Kace’s sexual acts. Prodding and digging into private affairs, inmates or not, is still harassment. Now, to make him put his foot in his mouth and suck on the toes like lollipops.

“The girl Kace killed in that accident, you are aware that her father is part of the Aryan Brotherhood, correct?” I mention, deflecting the conversation back to where I want it to go. Deciding against a PREA violation—for now.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you want to talk about, Warren. If you’re going to bother me once a month, I’m going to tell you everything else I know. So, the governor, he’s part of the Aryan Brotherhood and used his reach to get Kace thrown into prison.”

My words tumble out in a waterfall of accusation. I know, deep down, that the governor had his grubby hands in on the assault with Kace. Officer Clark confessed to that. The problem is proving it—if I can’t, then it’s hearsay.

“Nadia, that’s enough,” Warren snaps, but I keep going. What’s he going to do, stop me?

“The governor enlisted the help of Nathan, the inmate Lucien killed, to harass Kace while he was in prison and to get him to join the AB. Hoping that his looks, and unwillingness to fight, would prompt him to search for people to keep him safe. Where he could be killed sooner rather than later.”

“Nadia…” His voice is edgy and growing impatient.

Ignoring him, I keep going.

“It took a while but he started to befriend other inmates, non-white inmates, and that didn’t set well with the AB so they changed their angle. I showed up to Darkwater before their plans really started to get creative. When the brotherhood got wind of my relations with Kace, they altered their direction again, and used Lucien to lure me in.”

“Nadia!” Warren shouts, both hands darting for his hairline and running through the semi-tailored strands. Suddenly shifting forward in his seat before bringing both hands down on the top of the table in a ferocious bang. His quick motions, and his snap, make me jump slightly. Being caged up will do that to you— make you flighty.

“I do not want to talk about this!” he adds, trying to force himself to maintain better composure.

“I don’t care,” I reply without an ounce ofgive-a-fuck. “This is the information you’re getting, or you can fuck off, Warren. Lucien wanted me for himself. What better way to punish Kace and I both, for simply being together, than to allow the AB to hurt me, get back at Kace for killing the Governor’s daughter, then kill him?! The AB raped me, you sick fuck. You said you want the story, that people care and feel for me, but all you want is to know how Kace had his way with me. You want sensationalism? Dig into the fucking governor.”

“I’m not posting anything to do with him! Don’t you understand? If you keep pulling this shit, he’s going to come for you next. Why do you think I’m avoiding anything to do withthat man? You must learn to pick your damn battles, Nadia. This one in particular… you won’t win.”

Being the challenging woman I am, I reply with, “Try me. He came for me when I ended up restrained to cell bars and used like a fucking gloryhole. This time? I’m more prepared.”

If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s standing up for myself and not going down without a fight. I exchanged blows with my attackers, holding my ground before they finally got one up on me. Didn’t really take that long, since there were multiples of them, bigger, stronger, blah blah blah. Then, does he actually think my family is going to let some shady shit like that happen to me in these walls? I know there are limits to what they are capable of doing but when six of us ban together, and use the leverage of other female inmates, the chances of getting any one of us in a position like that is extremely limited.

Needless to say, I’m not going to let some bitch-ass governor run my life, ruin others, and keep pushing people around like peons. One day, this motherfucker will be locked up with the very men he yanks everywhere, using them to his advantage. I know that will be one hell of a welcome party.

Either way, Kace is gone, and while he died for nothing but loving me and an accident, I will be damned if I let a monster like the governor get away with his shit. There will come a day when I’m the one helping put him into a shallow grave; perhaps luring him out with Warren's help is just what the doctor ordered.

“This conversation is over,” Warren snaps and pushes away from the table.

Grinning, I draw the tip of my tongue along my bottom lip, and relax in my chair. Hmph; this may be the first time I’ve truly relaxed during his little interrogations.

Warren increases the distance between the both of us as he approaches the heavy door that keeps this dangerous criminal locked away. Lifting his hand, he bangs on it twice, alerting theguard on the other side that he is ready to exit. After a few seconds, it slowly glides open, the pulley system and the wheels on it needing a few shots of WD-40 with how much it’s groaning. Once it’s done opening, the bulky thing sends a bang of metal on concrete echoing through my small interrogation room and down the hallway.

One of my chaperones appears, escorting Warren out of the room safely as the other rests her baby-puke brown eyes on me. Glaring as if I’ve insulted her grandmother and kicked her dog. The officers here walk around like they have a barbed wire wrapped two by four shoved right up their ass. Keep your wig on, pig, it’s not like I’m going to go anywhere. I’m chained to a fucking table.

It’s funny, but at the same time it’s not. The Warden of Bluitt keeps me in the care of female-only guards. Like I’m itching to let some other man anywhere close to me. I was treated like shit for the bulk of my life by men. Kace got lucky, the remainder of Darkwater, and the rest of mankind did not.

Waiting like the good inmate I am, I see a flash of a suit out of the corner of my eye. The familiar silhouette of Detective Whitlock passes by the open barricade, completely engrossed in the folder he has splayed across both arms. He’s been coming and going a lot for the past year or so, meeting with Fury.

Facing forward, I can’t stop the smirk that spreads across my face. Hypocrisy and irony; they’re a potent mix and an entertaining one at that. Perhaps I should stop being as observant as I am and let people do what they want without prying eyes.

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