My heart thudded.
I could only hope that my next few shifts would be monotonous. I didn’t think I could handle it if every time I went to work something dangerous happened.
MY NEXT DAY at work was uneventful. I spent most of it cleaning the infirmary, counting sharps, and filling out reports. We had a few inmates come in for medication and blood work, but I drove to my apartment after my shift feeling much better about my decision to stay.
I’d even managed to snag a small bag of chips from the prison without anyone noticing or asking questions. I’d never been one to steal, but I was hungry and the bag was just sitting on Dr. Giles’ desk. I had to do it. An apple from the cafeteria weighed in my pocket also. I was starving at breakfast, but after some eggs and a muffin, I decided to save the apple for dinner.
On day three, I sat in the parking lot, struggling with myself about whether to drive away like a bat out of hell or to get out of the car and go into work. A few days off to reflect might have been nice, but it was impossible because of my financial state. Dr. Giles had called the night before to check on me, which I thought was nice. I knew it was because he was worried I wouldn’t come back, but he had no idea I had no other choice.
I assured him I was fine, but now, sitting in front of the looming cinderblock building, I was having second and third thoughts. My eyes followed the barbed wire along the top of the fencing, and I wondered if it was as sharp and cold as the men inside. I wondered if it sliced away at any soul who stepped through the fencing. Then again, most of those inside were deemed soulless, so I guess it didn’t matter much to them.
Closing my eyes, I envisioned X’s piercing blues. I remembered the fear I’d seen in them during the lockdown. It was the strangest thing. One second, he was vulnerable and afraid, and then next, the hardened killer was back and he was staring daggers at me. It was almost as if his mask had slipped—as if his armor had fallen out of place for the briefest of moments.
I secured my phone in my center console and stuffed my purse under the seat. With one last breath, I grabbed my badge from where it hung on the rearview mirror and tucked the hairs that had fallen from my ponytail behind my ear.
As I pushed my door open, it cracked and creaked. It wasn’t a new car. I doubted I’d ever own anything new, but it was mine. Thanks to a little extra on my student loans, I was able to buy it with cash. Of course, now I was hoping I’d be able to pay those loans back.
I hadn’t planned for things to be like this. My mom died when I was five from a brain aneurism, and my dad never remarried. For years, it was just us against the world. He worked for CSI, which meant he was always bringing home stories about his job. He never considered the fact that I might have nightmares, but I guessed he knew me better than anyone else did because I loved his stories, no matter how twisted some of the criminals were.
But my daddy was gone now. Without him, the world felt like a bigger, scarier place. It wasn’t like I knew my dad was going to die and leave me all alone in the world. I didn’t blame him; I blamed the asshole that shot him while he was on a case. Because of that man, I woke up every day scared of the future. I hated not knowing what was next—not being able to make plans because I wasn’t sure what the following day would hold. It was scary.
A few of the COs were walking in the parking lot toward the building. They were starting their next shift as well. I wondered if they ever had days when they wanted to run away from it all. Did they ever feel afraid of their job?
Swallowing my anxiety, I slammed my car door shut and turned to walk inside. After the usual metal detector and turning out my pockets, I grabbed my car keys and badge and headed to find an officer to escort me to the infirmary.
“Hey, Lyla, glad you came back.” I glanced up to see Officer Douglas smiling down at me. “We had a bet going on how long you’d last here. You just won me a hundred bucks,” he joked, his eyes crinkling with his smile.
He was the nicest CO in Fulton and my favorite escort. A tall, broad man in his mid-forties, he had bright blue eyes and a bald head. He looked stacked, like a man who lifted weights and played football in his younger days. His once strong and taut body was now replaced by a beer gut and a double chin from too many doughnuts and not enough exercise.
He wasn’t attractive, but his friendliness made up for it. He’d been there through all the shifts I’d worked so far. From what I could tell, he was a jokester. He loved to make everyone laugh. But even though he was a comedian, he still did his job. When it came to the inmates, he was all business.
“Gee, thanks.” I laughed. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Officer Douglas.”