Page 60 of Babalon

When she finally let go, my balls drained of their contents, I release her and lean forward against the railing of my bed— my arms cross over the metal to cushion my sweaty forehead. Pleasure still thrums through me as I focus on breathing through the intensity. Patiently waiting for my brain to get back on track and work properly.

“K—Kace, are you okay?” I hear her ask, the tone of it so soft and disarmed, it makes my brows furrow. She’s worried about me? Fuck, I should be tending to her, not the other way around.

Shifting just enough so I can look down at her from where my arms brace my head, seeing her still trussed up like my own personal sacrifice.

“Yeah, baby, I’m more than okay.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I start working on releasing her. She needs to be let go before someone comes looking— like always. If there is one thing the officers are good at, it’s keeping up with their own and communication. I know it’s only part of her job, but I hate how easy it is for the officers to find one another, it makes aftercare a bitch and very limited.

Freeing her, I brush her hair out of her face before reaching for a t-shirt and wetting it at the sink. Using the makeshift rag to clean her face and check her over, ensure she doesn’t have any visible marks outside of those on her wrists.

“Gargle salt water and stop by the store on the way home tonight, get you some lozenges. It will help with the soreness.”

She nods and pushes up from the bed, rubbing her wrists, looking unsure of herself which caught my attention. Red flagnumber one. Hooking a finger under her chin, I tilt her head back so that I can look into those consuming eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to get back to you.”

Stubborn girl, I’ll get through to her one day.

“Alright. You need to get back to your post. Please be a good girl.”

“I will.”

Something is wrong— one, she’s never this quiet, and two, she’s agreeing with me without being a smart ass. When she starts to walk away, I’m incapable of keeping my hands off her, curling my hand around her elbow, I bring her back to me.

“Nadia…” I grind out like I’ve swallowed glass.

She looks up at me and I see a softness that belies the hardened young woman I’ve come to crave.

“I want you to know that you can tell me anything. The shit that happens between us, personally, is ours to keep. Your secrets are safe with me, your lo—“ I stop. Getting ahead of myself.

With a tilt, I press a tender kiss to her lips once more. When she gives me a smile, I die inside, my soul leaving with her when she walks out of my cell.

Chapter eighteen

Kace

Past

It’s been a crazy few weeks here at Darkwater. New inmates were delivered a half-month ago as well as last week. There must be a new election coming, and someone has started to clear out county and city jails. Would explain the influx of inmates. If the warden isn’t careful, there won’t be enough room to house all of us and they may have to start shipping them out to other prisons. Trust me when I say, they don’t want that. The funding that comes from the state is indignant on the inmate count and need for resources.

Why do I know this? I did a little research before being sentenced. I wanted to know how prisons run, and who advocates for the indefinite caging of men and women. WhatI found out made sense, but the information is still cause for concern since a lot of the allocated resources never make it down the chain to where it’s actually needed— such as medical resources, nutritional needs, and most of the basic human necessities.

That’s why there is commissary available, if your family is kind enough, and has the means, to put money on your books. My mom has the money to do so, it’s just getting her to do it that’s the issue. That being said, while we lived under our dad's roof for a long while and his money carried us. I have no access to my trust fund until I turn thirty; granted I meet his requirements and own a successful business.

Well, we now know that won’t happen—I’m sitting in prison for fuck’s sake. There will not be any kind of successful business as long as I am in here. Then the odds of having children are zilch, not that I want to reproduce, nevertheless. I may just sign over my trust fund to my sister so she can use it. Since there won’t be anyone to pass it down to.

That’s a different topic for a different day though. I need to learn how to survive in here, so that is the first thing on my agenda, or was. Over the past couple of weeks being in prison, I have learned that some things are easier said than done.

It’s not as difficult to talk to people on the outside as it is in here. There are already groups that exist inside, then you also have the whole race game to consider. I’ve never been one of those people who give a shit about someone’s skin color, yet that is important here. With my appearance, just speaking to someone of a different race could piss off other people—which is weird as fuck. Who the hell cares that much? Are we not in here to be punished? What’s the point of making shit harder for each other.

Last week, I sat down at a table that would usually be occupied by the kinfolk and was promptly exiled from there then forcedto another. The looks I received from the brotherhood were one thing, but when the kinfolk got aggressive with me, that annoyed the AB, and they stepped up to take care of shit. I don’t know if they did it to sway me or not, but their efforts were in vain.

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