The Warden

“I think it’s time you paid up for the extras.”

“What fucking extras? Bread and canned soda?” A backhand to my face left my mouth smarting and my scraped cheek pained while a trickle of blood sparked the corner.

“I wanna know if you taste how you look. That skin of yours reminds me of a caramel latte.” Garcia grabbed the back of my head and pulled me forward. The sting on my scalp made my eyes burn while his hips ground against mine suggestively. That familiar feeling of bile bubbled in the back of my throat. There was nothing gentle or kind in his intent to grind his stubby dick in to me. This was the shit that could kill you in here. The stuff that fucked with your mind and the choices that were merely between the lesser of two evils,

nothing won and nothing gained. I could stay present in the moment and try to fight a losing battle or I could drift off to that warm place, my abuela’s arms on a sunny day in that small Mexican village where nothing and no one could possibly hurt me ever again. It was an addicting alternative and one I contemplated surrendering too. My time here might only be temporary, but it was sure to change me irrevocably.

Turning my head away, disgusted, I said nothing as he gave me a forceful shake. I was mentally slipping away and I could no longer hold onto the edge of my consciousness as darkness started its slow choking swallow.

“Enough, Garcia.” That voice outside the door pierced through me. My savior had returned, stiff and angry, but I would suffer that all the same to be free of Garcia’s punishing hands. There was no cavalry, but his presence helped me realign and shift back to reality.

“See you on the cellblock, Cruz.” With a less than gentle shove back against the wall, he released his hold on me and stalked out of the room. I crouched down slowly assessing wounds.

Cohen stepped inside and reached to pick me up from my sinking knees looking back, watching Garcia leave. “Are you all right?” Firm hands held me up, and one cradled my cheek tenderly. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed the tender fleeting touch.

“I’ll survive.” The anger left me like a popped balloon hissing and leaving me exhausted and limp.

“Nene.”

“Cohen.” Our voices mixed, his frustrated and mine tired.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He clamped his arms around me tight and I felt every bruise only now I reveled in how alive it made me feel instead of the despondent mess I was moments ago.

“Is the girl okay?”

“The one who got stabbed? Yeah, she’ll be okay.” He doesn’t tell me any more about her, holding me close.

I licked my dry lips and offered him the only thing I could beside my body. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I can get you information about the Tribe. Something that helps us both.” I was at my lowest point and I’d do anything.

Cohen grunted with an expression I hadn’t seen before, almost defeated. “I doubt you could get the information I’m looking for. The Red Tribe isn’t exactly inviting you to high tea, or did you forget that?”

“All I’m asking is that you give me a chance.” My stomach knotted.

“Nene.” It sounded like a warning.

“If I do it, you will get them to reopen my case. Please?” I begged.

“I don’t like this.” Cohen scrunched his face up.

I smoothed his brow with my pointer finger and he kisses it. I remind him, “We don’t have to like it, but it’s all we’ve got.”

He shook his head.

“I thought you were a waitress in Dallas.”

“I am, or at least I was–my social calendar isn’t what it used to be.” To miss something as mundane as being a barmaid-now that was a treat.

“A mouth too.” Cohen leaned in, kissing the corner of my lips, gently erasing the taste of Garcia’s nicotine-fouled mouth. I felt his smile against my injured skin, his touch a healing balm. I’d sell my soul, or what was left of it to the devil for a brief moment-just to have his kindness touch my battered humanity.

Between soft kisses I asked, “Tell me what you need to know.”

His heavy expression told me he didn’t like this plan. Too bad because I didn’t think I could go through another stint in solitary again.

“Please.” I begged between kisses.

His jaw clenched and my hands stroked down his muscular arms calming the frustration from his body. We might have been using each other for a different means, but I still cared.

“I need to know how the Red Tribe is connecting to the outside from here.” Pulling back from me he’d returned to the gruff exterior I had grown accustomed to. He subjected me to another dark mood, and I nodded.