Page 10 of White Rabbit

“What makes you say that?”

“You see the way he keeps glancing around, he's scoping everything out. He thinks he’s being covert, but I’ve seen him. Checking guards, clocking the cameras and whatever else. He’s shifty as shit.” Langdon’s firm in his assessment. My colleague doesn’t like Creed and I can’t blame him; the man makes my hackles rise too but I’m not sure it’s for the same reasons.

“Okay…”

“It’s damn strange that he ended up here anyways. He should have been transferred to Kenfig,” Gibbs grumbles as he gets to his feet and stretches.

“Maybe they were overpopulated?” We sometimes acted as an overflow for other facilities, but I’d thought the same when I’d been looking at his file. Why here? Who put him in Ogmore?

Taking a big gulp of his coffee, Langdon squints at the screens. “I'm willing to bet my life that something is going to go down and he’ll be at the center of it. Creed is like a caged animal, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.”

“So why don't you report it?” I suggested.

He raises his brow at me and tweaks the end of his mustache., “Report what, Bishop? That one of the inmates is a dodgy mother fucker?”

Gibbs snickers as I roll my eyes. “Suspicious behavior?”

“Looking around isn't suspicious behavior but I can just see it. That man is a psycho.” He sits back and crosses his arms, face clouded with concern.

As he says that, Creed looks up into one of the main cameras and grins.

Chapter Seven

ELIJAH

Ifeel like I'm living in some sort of shit TV show—you know the one, a reality show with some Z-list celebrity being followed around while they do dumb things. There are cameras on me everywhere as I move down the halls and into the mess hall, trying to catch me scratching my balls or something equally mundane.

My skin prickles as I take a seat at a table with my cup of lukewarm coffee. Grinning up at the closest one, I hope I’m making whoever is on security feel a little uncomfortable—who knows, maybe it’s even the pretty Officer Bishop. It had been a week already and getting near her was proving next to impossible. I was quickly learning that it was either art class or nothing. I’m not even sure what it is about her, but with nothing else to distract me, she’s quickly becoming my newest obsession.

I was a patient person, I had to be, but it still rankled that I had barely even laid eyes on her while I watched and waited for my opportunity. Beans has been following The Cartel gang members and their movements, reporting back to me each night when we lie in our bunks after lights out. I needed them dealt with, in order to get closer to Bishop.

Tiny was rarely on his own, away from the other goons. I’d have to find a way to reach him when his gardening duties ended, which was usually around the same time as my maintenance and domestic duties each day. After that, he was allowed an earlier shower, which is where I plan to catch him alone. To get myself placed in that class, I needed him out of the equation, just for a few weeks. I don’t plan on being here much longer than that.

As if I’ve conjured her, Bishop enters the hall, leading a small group of inmates I assume made breakfast today. I’d thought about asking to be assigned kitchen duties, but fixing shit and cleaning gave me more movement around the facility.

She’s braided her hair, the plait hanging down over one shoulder. The light blue-colored officer shirt isn’t exactly flattering, but her English Rose complexion seems to make it work, even with the smattering of freckles across her nose. There are dark smudges under her eyes, and when her hazel gaze locks with mine, I swear my heart stumbles in my chest, missing a beat because she’s paying me an ounce of attention. What the fuck was with that?

I lose sight of her as she vanishes behind the door to the kitchen, but I catch snatches interspersed with laughter as she talks with the prisoners while they go about setting up.

“Hudson, I saw that. Go wash your hands!”

“Ten minutes, inmates! Then the hungry rabble will descend.”

“Hudson. Last warning!’

Her voice isn’t as soft as I expected. There’s an edge there that tells me my little officer isn’t afraid to use her authority.

Chuckling to myself, I pour myself another mug of the crap they call coffee. Sludgy, lukewarm and more like dirt water…but it’s the only option right now. Papa T and his cellmate, a small man with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes called Houdini Hari, take their seats near me as the rest of cell block F is allowed into the hall for breakfast.

I haven’t interacted with them much, but we seem to have an unspoken understanding to mind our own fucking businesses, which, of course, Beans completely disregards. He wouldn’t understand boundaries if I drew him a map and then carved it onto his skin.

“Morning grumpy fucks!” He drops his tray down next to me. “Are you getting some grub?”

“Yeah, not that it’s ever very edible.” I scoff, pushing to my feet to join the queue. Papa T makes a noise of agreement as he stirs his mulchy fruit pot. Always the same bullshit, just a different day.

When I get to the end of the line, Bishop is standing with another female officer, both of them surveying the room while occasionally chatting. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but as I draw closer, her eyes are drawn to me like a magnet.

Returning to our table, I watch as Bishop tries to hide a yawn with the back of her hand.

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