Page 16 of White Rabbit

Crafty fucker. Jules just winks.

“Second, I’ve finally managed to find a few guards willing to shift their allegiances and plant one of our own. Foxx. He’s proved very useful lately…”

Foxx? The officer who’d been eyeing up Officer Bishop in the rec room the other day?

I grumble. “For fuck’s sake, that ginger fucker?”

Jules tilts his head, curious. “You’ve spoken to him already?”

“No. He just wants something that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Hmmm, well, play nice with him since he’s going to be providing your contraband.”

Clenching my jaw, I flip through the tablet. “I doubt there’s anything he can provide that I can’t get myself.”

Julian exhales slowly as he taps on the table. He knows I’m being petulant.

“Well, considering he’s currently overseeing the installation of new mattresses in your wing, I would disagree.”

Blinking rapidly, I look up. “You bought mattresses for everyone?”

He waves his hand dismissively, as if he hadn’t just dropped thousands of dollars on bedroom furniture. “Just in your wing. A charitable donation from the Asaro Foundation to Ogmore Grange.”

The smug expression on his face tells me he’s enjoyed flashing his cash around, reminding the Warden that even though this may not be one of our prisons, he still had power.

“What else have you done, you sneaky fucker?”

The corner of Jules’ mouth twitches. “You’ll just have to wait and see. But a lot of strings had to be pulled and more money crossed hands than strictly necessary so you better find your rat, my friend.”

Humming, I eye him suspiciously. “There’s a few things I want you to look into while I’m stuck in here.”

I wanted to know just who Officer Bishop was, what her life was like outside these walls, and where her weaknesses lay. I was going to embed myself so deep into her life, she’d have to claw me out from underneath her skin. But to do that, I needed information. Insights. Surveillance.

“Email me. It’s secure and Cato will get you whatever you need.” He gets to his feet, straightening his suit jacket before knocking on the door to be let out. Turning back, he grins, and it’s a look I recognize well. “Oh, Elijah, I had to enroll you on a course to justify the tablet…so enjoy.”

“What? What the fuck did you sign me up for?” I look back down at the device, spotting an app I didn’t notice before. Clicking into it, it opens up a webpage. “Hey! What the fuck is ‘Discovering the Middle Ages: Monarchies, Magic and Machines’?”

Scrolling through the module list, I look closer at the topics and credits. Terrible torture devices. Poisonous plants. Divine Rights. Magic and Mosaic Law.

Yelling after him, I curse. “What kind of Harry Potter shit is this!”

His chuckle echoes down the corridor as I’m placed back into my cuffs and led back to my cell.

Chapter Ten

AVA

Afat heavy dollop of acrylic paint lands on my canvas with a wet splat and I move quickly to swirl it in. The hues of blue and gray merge into shades of reds and blacks’, marking the canvas with thick lines and raised ridges. Delicate strokes of gold are interwoven, like veins, making the piece pulse. It was anger. It was desire. Tinged with sadness. Combined with madness.

It was a storm of emotion on canvas.

It was…him.

Creed was invading my thoughts and my art as the weeks went on. I could feel his gaze on me, assessing me, cataloging me every time we were in the same room. It was insane.

We’d barely spoken, and yet…I wanted to know more. I was becoming obsessed.

Who was he? What was it about him that had my father and brother spooked? Why did the other officers say he had a reputation? He’d been nothing but a model inmate as far as I could see. I was still struggling to find any relevant news stories, online or in the papers, about him. It was like he was a shadow. A bogeyman that everyone but me knew.

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