Page 33 of Collateral Damage

“Silly didn’t really count for much behind bars.” She's become less and less spooked by the fact I served six years with convicted murderers, considering her father was trained to track people like me down to the ends of the earth. It seems I have taken his role after he dropped out like a pussy.I’d have been a great detective Mom.

“Is it an inmate thing?” She rocks back and forth, eager to hear my response and I have to fight back the dire need to smile, kissing my teeth to disguise the menace inside of me.Oh if only she knew.

“It’s a symbol of ownership.” This is far too cute for my liking. Why is she suddenly taking interest in things most people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at?

“I’m not following.”Of course she’s not.

“If an inmate held my pocket, they became mybitch. An exchange of power to protect them from threats within those four walls.” Her puzzled look scans the room, trying to understand prison slang like it’s the DaVinci code.

“They submitted to you?” Oh, they submitted alright. In more ways than one, and I can't lie, herinnocenceis proving to make this far more entertaining for me. She really has no clue how manybitchesI've had clutching them until they almost tore off.

“Clever girl.” I toy with her a little and watch her highly unnerving glare rapidly disappear as she tries to conceal her shame as blush peppers her cheeks.It’s delicious.

“And if they didn’t?” Why is she so curious?

“I’d become their worst nightmarePuppet.” This conversation is going to run my beers out.

“Because they didn’t submit to you, you’d hurt them?” I suddenly realise, she isn't trying to understand prison lingo. She's trying to understand me, and it's getting under my skin.

“Because they chose the wrong side. Prison is a playground for the punishable. A free for all. If you do not protect yourself, you can kiss your ass goodbye.” I learnt that the hard way. Being a dyke in a prison full of women who could snap you in two wasn't exactly fun, but it's nothing I'd not dealt with before. My father made sure of that.

“So who was protecting you?” She hits me with a question I wasn't prepared for. Downing my poison to calm the internal rage spreading through the cracks in my skin.

“The demons in my headInnocence.” No one was protecting me. I had to learn to turn it all off. If you can’t feel, nothing can hurt you. I turned it off long before I walked into that cage. It's why I got sent there in the first place. I'd lost my moralcompass, or what society deems moral. What I did was more than necessary.

I finish up cleaning, my face lower than the Pacific Ocean trying to numb the memories with another bottle as the TV speaks gibberish in the background to muffle my voices.

“Was this you?” She asks, as I turn to face her, met with Mr Jones plastered all over the screen and I hold the devilish grin trying to crawl onto my face. She was going to see it at some point I guess. Just wrong timing.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” She's searching for answers that will expose the monster I am while she's living under my roof, what is her motive here?

“I just want to understand. Do you have a target?” That's the fucking problem. No one will ever understand me. I don't even fucking understand myself. Why is she trying to find reasoning for my chaos? It's just pissing me off.

“This is not an interrogation.Quit it.” I storm for the door, ready to slip away from this conversation but she's clearly not finished.

“How many… Have you -” I run my tongue against my teeth, letting out a forced sigh as my hands dig into the door frame.

“Fourteen. Happy now?” I was expecting more of a shocked expression on her face but she doesn't seem shocked at all.

“Have they not even been remotely close to catching you?” Since getting out, I've laid low and I've learnt how to control the world around me. I stay hidden and in plain sight.

“They get as close as I let them.” As I say those words her face appears on screen. People are finally onto her disappearance and it's only a matter of time, but for now she's hidden well. Unless CPD put the pieces together which I doubt very much. They are all dumb as fuck and I purposely lead them the wrong way.

…

Play – ‘16 candles – Isabel LaRosa’

“They will find me, you know.” I admire her optimism. But they will only find her if I leave tracks.Which I don’t.

“It’s sweet that you think so.” I approach her on the couch, slow and steady, stalking her like prey but she doesn't seem at all phased anymore, standing off with her eyes.

“You can’t keep me locked away forever Hays…” I don't do well with people underestimating me. She should know by now that's not a good idea.

“Was that a challengePuppet? Don’t tempt me. I will bury you 6ft under still breathing until you decay with the rest of them.” My face is so close to hers I could almost kiss her and part of me desperately wants to sink my teeth into her bottom lip until she's bleeding in my fucking mouth.

“I know there are no dead bodies in your back garden, Hays. You're sick but you're also not one to spoil what this place means to you. I don't know what you cling on to so dearly but you wouldn't risk bringing them here. That is why you haven't been caught. And that is why me being in your house has you on edge.”Smart girl… Does she want a medal? “I see you haven't lost all your intelligence.”She really isn't as dumb and as innocent as she looks.

“What is it about this place? Why are you still here doing the devil's dirty work? You got out, you werefree!” That's laughable. Really. Is that what she thinks escaping prison is? Freedom? Being branded with convictions that stop you from living a normal life and exiled to live a lonely, miserable fucking existence?

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