Chapter 2 A New Prospect
Liam
I love how easy it was to make that dog run away with his tail between his legs. My job is always interesting. I can say that. I run a tight ship, and anyone not following and living by the rules I have placed is a problem. He is clearly in need of a reminder of those rules and what happens when you break them. My eyes are solely on her now. I have done this job for the last 12 years, and I have never seen such a beautiful woman in my life. Something about her was different. My heart quickens, my cock instantly throbbing at the sight of her. Her raven hair was wavy and encased around her curves. Her cute button face and big blue eyes. Her eyes draw me in. Something about them: how can someone's eyes look like pain, darkness, and innocence all at once? If she is here, innocence is clearly far from her truth. Yet her eyes scream it all.
I take in her busted lip, wondering if that was from her time here. Women can be cruel; I imagine putting them in this box only intensifies that catty behavior. I move my eyes down to her chest. Her large breasts swell in the fabric. Her hips curved out to the perfect length for her frame and height. She must have been no taller than 5 feet. Short, but cute. The look on her face amuses me. Tickles me pink, in fact. She's trying so hard not to show any emotions on her face that she’s forgotten her body is doing all the talking. I watch as her nipples harden, bringing my eyes back up to hers. Her voice is soft but firm. A woman who clearly has no issues using her voice with a hint of cockyness to it.
Only intriguing me more. Who is this woman? Amused by what she said about pike, I try to hide how much that made my day. Pike was indeed a moron, but he did his job and was a good little soldier. So I won't be firing him yet. However, his antics of how he wakes up inmates will be punished. I have a very low tolerance for such behavior, and it will be addressed to the fullest extent. I immediately head back to the office, pulling up Amara's file. Well, well, in for an assault charge. Somehow, I don't find that surprising. I press a button, and my secretary comes running in. Her red hair was frazzled and in a bun like normal. She was slim and tall.
Always so creative with her outfits. Today, she was wearing a tan skirt with knee-high socks and shoes, her blouse missing a few buttons and cherries dancing all over it. Of course, I didn't hire her for her style. I hired her because she was the exact opposite of my type. I wanted this year to be distraction-free. Of course, my new fixation on Amara will now make those plans mute. So much for staying focused on the goal. What was it about her? I had to know more. Dana, my assistant, pushes her glasses up to her nose.
What can I do for you, sir, more coffee?
I wave my hand off in dismissal of the coffee notation.
I am looking over Amara's case, one of the new prisoners here.
What about her, sir?
Why are some of these blacked out, Dana? I turn my monitor so she can see it.
Oh, I don't know, sir, but these are the documents they sent over before she was booked.
She isn't under age and even the male she accused, whose name is blacked out of the file. Just about any important detail has been blacked out
I am not sure, Sir. I just scanned the documents they did send.
Dana, get the judge on the phone
Yes, sir, right away
Amara
As I wash myself in the cold shower, I can't get him out of my head. His voice, his smell, his rugged face. Stop it, Amara, you can not be attracted to the Warden. I shake my head, trying to gain some semblance of control. He is off limits. You are a prisoner in his prison. It wouldn't matter much anyway. Even if we had met outside like two normal people. He will never let me go. I sigh in frustration and turn off the water. I guess I should hurry. Breakfast won't be going on much longer. As I stand in line and watch the women in front and behind giggle, talk, and gossip. I truly realize how much of an outcast I am here. I glance over at the tables, the groups of women going to their normal clicks.
Reminds me of high school. Except more violent, more dangerous. I nod a thank you when she puts food on my plate. Taking in the surroundings, I finally spot an empty table in the back corner. I dart to it, hoping I will make a claim to it before a group settles in it. Mission accomplished. I stare down at my food, pushing the mushy content around with my fork. I miss food. Real food, not this dog kennel crap they feed us and pass off as edible. I haven't eaten since I got here. Hoping that at some point, my stomach would not care about the taste or smell. That I'd be so ravenous with hunger, there would be no taste at all.
Well, it doesn't look like today is going to be that day.
I sip my black coffee, suddenly feeling like eyes are on me. The hair on my neck rose up, and goose bumps formed on my arms. I look around, hoping to pinpoint the person. I look at the guards, most of whom seem to be distracted by their own conversations. Then I see him. The warden. Standing against the railing of the upper floor, looking down directly at me. I rub my arm, uncomfortable with the constant gaze. Why is he looking at me like that? His eyes are firm and focused.
Like I am a book and he is reading every page. Suddenly, the bells go off. Breaking eye contact with him, I watch as the girls line up ready for their work assignment. As for me, I will be back in my room reading until an assignment is assigned to me. More solitude, yay me. I look back up at the railing, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him before heading to my cell. But he is no longer there. Who is this man, Houdini? I dump my tray and head back to my cell. Walking slowly to ensure less time. I didn't mind so much just having hours for reading and writing. But that also meant hours of thinking.
It's dangerous when my mind wanders. I trail my finger along the side of the wall. The bumpy feeling of the paint brings me a bit of joy. I guess it's going to be the small things here. I finally made it to my cell. My nose scrunches in curiosity. A letter lying directly on my bed. It's not mail time. I look down the halls, noticing how empty they are. Well, that's not creepy; there's always a guard down here. My stomach starts doing somersaults. I walk slowly over to the bed like the note is just going to magically attack me. I sigh, you're being ridiculous. I shake my head and pick up the envelope. No address…no
markings…this didn't go through the system. My heart is racing and thumping against my chest. I take a deep breath and open it.
Hello little one,
You're exactly where I want you. I told you you would be punished for running. And more importantly, for telling me NO.
See you soon
I sink into the floor. He knows where I am, he knows which cell is mine. He knows how to get letters inside without even being here himself. His reach…I may never escape. The realization of that hit my soul deep. I will never be free, even when I am free from this prison. I will always be his, and he will always find me no matter where I run. I have never felt more trapped in my life….