Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
There’s a twisted smile on his lips as he looks up at me with hooded eyes and sunken cheeks.
“How are you, Killian?” he asks, his tone self-absorbed like a tired clown.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Chad. I’m fine. Why don’t you tell me why you are here?”
Chad glances up at his lawyer, snuffs out a laugh, then gets to his feet. He strolls back and forth, his eyes scouring the walls, the monitors, my desk. He takes my fountain pen and flips it several times, as if analyzing its weight.
“You know, Killian, I can’t say I like what you’ve done with the place,” he smirks. “When I was warden here, the place really looked like a warden’s office. But this…” He waves his hand around in a cursory fashion. “Looks like a home.”
He’s trying to goad me. Trying to own me. Get me overly emotional before our real conversation even begins.
I think back to Alice. Her gorgeous face and bright eyes looking up at me as we made love. She’s mine now. This pathetic attempt to get under my skin isn’t going to work.
I’m the warden here now. I run this place.
I turn to Dillon. “Maybe you can tell me why you guys are here?”
Dillon is balding and compensating with a massive beard. His suit is pinstriped, like he’s a mafia tough guy, and he wears a gaudy watch like a rapper.
He clears his throat and pulls a document from his briefcase.
“A formal complaint has been filed with the Department of Corrections.”
My eyes narrow. Here it comes.
“A formal complaint…against me?”
He nods, passing me the document. “A member of your staff, yet to be named, has documented irregularities in your handling of prisoner five-oh-seven-five.”
Alice. These sons of bitches. Irregularities required to keep her safe. That’s all I’ve been doing!
“Private examinations without medical staff present,” he continues while Chad chuckles and licks his lips. “Solitary confinement without documented justification and preferential treatment.”
My blood goes cold. They’re not just trying to create chaos anymore. They’re building an actual case to take me down. And if I go down, who will protect Alice?
She’ll be let into gen-pop…and who knows what horrible things will happen to her.
“You’re this bitter?” I ask, turning my eyes on Chad. It takes all my restraint not to beat him to a pulp right now. Both of them couldn’t stop me.
“Bitter?” he replies.
“You’re a criminal, Chad. It’s not my fault you were exposed for skimming, blackmailing, and God knows whatever else you were up to while you were warden.”
His entire chest heaves as a laugh boils out of him. “Oh, and you’re such a saint are you, Killian? Using your authority to have your way with this new female inmate of yours?”
Pain shoots through my hands as my fists curl, forcing my nails to stab my flesh. Even without using her name, hearing Chad refer to Alice has my defenses up.
If he even thinks about touching her…
“I don’t abuse my authority,” I reply through gritted teeth, accusing him with my eyes. “I have been using my authority to keep her safe.”
Chad’s face tightens. He may be playing it cool, but I know that underneath, he’s a bastard with no morals who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.
“A state inspector will be arriving tomorrow,” he says flatly, motioning to Dillon. “Good luck.”
I stand stoic and watch them leave, my muscles tight. Once they’re gone, I slam the door shut, find the notice Dillon handed me, and tear the envelope open.
There it is. The inspection notice.
Chad’s name, Dillon’s name, and below it, the name of the inspector. I do a quick search online and see that he was once a guard here when Chad was the warden. He also attended the same college as Brian Gumble, the prick who sent Alice here instead of an all-women’s prison.
I go deeper. Scour the Internet for everything I can find on these pricks, which leads me to Brian’s social media page. Typical junk trying to make himself look cool, but one picture stands out.
Brian, tagged in a photo by a woman named Jamie Foxgrin.
Instantly, my jaw clenches so tightly my teeth flare with pain. I pull up Alice’s file, and sure enough, there it is. The woman who accused her of theft in the first place was her boss at the salon, Jamie Foxgrin.
This is no longer a conspiracy. This is real. A blatant plan to take me out, and Alice is just a pawn.
And if I don’t do something now, I’ll end up going down, and she’ll be vulnerable.
And that can’t happen.
I grab my phone and call her lawyer. He answers on the first ring.
“Marvin Newson here—”
“Marvin, listen,” I say, typing up an e-mail. “Your client, Alice Clement, is innocent.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“Yeah, well, I have proof,” I snap, pressing send. “All the proof you need is in your inbox now. I need you to look at it and get back to me. We need Alice transferred immediately. Understand?”