Page 4 of Fighting for Tawny

“I’ll tell you about it after we get out of solitary.”

“Okay. Let’s keep talking before I go batshit crazy.”

They traded stories, most of which Tawny created on the spot. When she wasn’t exchanging punches with anyone, Yolanda showed her vulnerability. She’d grown up poor and left home at sixteen. Life on the streets hardened her—turned her into a fighter. She’d learned to live by her wits, stealing and running cons until she’d been caught. The previous warden took an interest in her and ensured she earned her high school diploma. Yolanda owed him.

“When he announced his retirement, we were stunned. He was only in his forties, you know?”

That piece of information about the former warden bothered Jiena and her team running the op, too. They investigated his sudden departure but didn’t discover anything unusual, like huge, unexplained deposits in his bank account. Though they harbored suspicion, the team eventually conceded that the man just wanted to retire. Certain jobs made people old before their time, and being the warden of a prison was one of them.

“Maybe he just wanted to retire. Get away from all the shit,” Tawny suggested.

“Maybe. But he was a man on a mission, and men like him don’t quit.”

CHAPTER TWO

During the long, dreary hours in solitary confinement, Tawny exercised as much as she could in the limited space of her cell, despite her broken ribs, and encouraged Yolanda to do the same. When they weren’t napping, inevitable without anything to occupy their minds, they conversed in barely audible voices and discussed how things would be after they were released from solitary.

“No one is gonna mess with you no more,” Yolanda promised. “Not when they realize if they mess with you, they mess with me, too.”

“Yeah. But listen, the warden’s plans for me and you, ‘cause I wouldn’t accept his offer without you, is our ticket out.”

“Tell me how.”

“I will. Tomorrow, when we get out of solitary. We’ll have an exit interview with Warden Stoltz, so don’t get smart with him. Apologize for fighting, even if you don’t mean it. Don’t give him a chance to rip away the deal I made with him.”

“Okay. You can trust me.”

The following morning, after a cold breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, a guard came to escort Tawny to see Warden Stoltz. As he handcuffed her, she recognized him as one of the guards usually in a watch tower.

Wanting to see how far she could push him, she remarked, “So, they finally made you come down to our level.”

“I wanted to see you up close and personal, Tawny.”

“You like watching me?” She made sure he knew she wasn’t flirting with him by the serious inflection of her tone.

“I like watching you fight. God, you stink.”

Tawny didn’t care about the body odor. Her bandages hadn’t been changed in a week, and she needed to have her stitches removed. She was just grateful she didn’t have an infection. Rather than offer a sarcastic reply, she kept quiet as he led her to the showers. Normally, they were only allowed a few minutes to bathe and wash their hair, but the guard gave Tawny extended time. Still, she cleansed herself as quickly as she could, considering her injuries, and hoped her next stop was the infirmary to have her wounds checked. When she found a clean jumpsuit and undergarments waiting for her, she thanked the guard.

“These weren’t here before. Thanks.”

He turned his back while she dressed and slipped her feet into the canvas shoes they were issued.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Tawny commented as they left the showers. Women stood in line to take their turn. Some shot daggers at her. Others gave her a chin nod and signs of respect for winning the fight last week. Before losing consciousness herself, she’d knocked out Yolanda.

“Officer Whitcomb. Carey Whitcomb.”

“Will you take me to the infirmary?”

“Dr. Sadler has ordered a checkup.”

“How’s Yolanda? Have you seen her?”

“She’s seeing the dentist right now. You did a number on her teeth.”

Tawny winced with shame. It was survival of the fittest in here, and she only did what was necessary to stay alive and create a fearsome reputation. Now, at least, Yolanda was on her side, and the warden had unknowingly offered her a way to gather intel.

Whitcomb must have seen her reaction, for he sent her a sharp look. “Don’t feel bad about it. From my post in the watch tower, I saw her come after you with a shank. Smart to disarm her. Where’d you learn to fight like that? It’s almost military in its precision. Did you serve?”

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