Page 3 of Enemy of the State

“Would you mind terribly bringing me something to drink? Soda, water, wine, I’m not picky.”

He snorts, gives me his back, then retreats down the hallway, and I call after him, making myself sound saccharine and innocent, when, in reality, I’m anything but. “Sir, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

Sitting cross-legged in the center of the cell, I sulk, desperately trying to think about anything other than my thirst.

To my utter shock, the guard returns a moment later, squats down, and holds out a paper cup through the bars for me to take. I blink at him, wondering for half a second if my brain has hallucinated him out of dehydration. Testing that theory, I reach out and tentatively grasp the cup, my fingers brushing against his.

This time, I smile gratefully, and he gives me a curt nod before departing. I’m left alone once again.

The cup was full when he brought it to me, and I don’t want to drink it too quickly.Unsure of when I’ll be awarded more water, I only take a few sips before placing the cup in the far corner of the room and lying on my side to try to sleep.

Sean

“How are you, honey?” my mom asks, her slightly pixelated face lit up on the screen before me. Her smile is strained, lines of worry lacing her features. A ripple of guilt rolls across my mind, but I force it to evaporate before it can consume me.

“Good, Mom. How are you?” I ask casually, trying to ease her concern. I’m safer than she thinks, but I can’t tell her that. I’m even closer to home than she realizes, but I can’t tell her that either.

“Are you eating enough and drinking your water?” she asks, ignoring my question.

A short titter escapes me, but I confirm. The tension around her amber eyes eases, and she smiles at me through the screen. “Sorry, honey, you know I’m just worried.”

“I know, but I’m okay. I promise.” My military career has been hard on my mom; she tries to hide that fact, though she does a shit job of it sometimes.

“How’s Jace?”

She’s only asking about my best friend to try to match whatever Jace told his mom, and I suppress an eye roll. Our moms became fast friends six years ago and I’m glad they have each other, especially considering the secrecy of our whereabouts and classifiedjobs. I think they talk to each other more than Jace and I do, and our bunks are directly next to each other in the barracks.

“He’s good too. He’s eating, drinking, and wreaking the usual havoc.”

She smiles, looking sheepish, knowing she’s been caught out, and her face freezes as the connection shorts out for a second. “Have you met any nice girls wherever you are?”

“No, Mom. There’s no girl.”

I’m not celibate, but I’m certainly not dating by any stretch of the imagination. I’m all kinds of fucked up and have absolutely no business subjecting a woman to my madness—at least not on a permanent basis—but I wouldn’t dare share that with my mom. Besides, there aren’t exactly any women where I am. This place is barely suitable for me, much less a woman.

“You should keep an eye out. You never know when the girl of your dreams will fall into your lap. I’m not getting any younger, and I’d love some grandkids.”

“Youhavegrandkids, Mom. Or do Callie’s boys not count?”

She laughs, her amber eyes sparkling on the screen. “You know I love your nephews more than anything, but you could start adding to the collection.”

I give her a tight smile, not willing to crush her dreams. I don’t see myself having kids, but this isn’t the time nor the place to have that conversation. Although, my mom is amazing and would be nothing but supportive if I told her that’s what I wanted.I make a mental note to broach the topic with her in person on my next leave—whenever that is.

Changing the subject, I ask, “How are things at home?”

I listen as she prattles on about my sister, and how she’s considering early retirement. She’s been talking about retiring from her successful advertising career for years, but she’s never actually done it.

My mom is sweeter than a candy store, kindness radiating fromher aura like fog floating up from the surface of a forest lake. She deserves a better son than me.

“Digs, Major Thompson wants to see you,” Martinez states, drawing my attention to the doorway. I nod, then turn back to the computer on the desk in front of me. “I’ve got to go, Mom.”

“I understand. Call me again when you can, okay? I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I echo before ending the video call and logging off the computer. I don my mask and stalk down the hallway toward the major’s makeshift office.

Passing the closed door of the gym, I hear Ghost’s “Dance Macabre” blaring, and I know without looking inside that Jace is in there. He’s a rock fan and Ghost is always his first choice. I much prefer metal, enjoying the harder, more extreme musical elements. It also keeps the inmates awake and annoys the living fuck out of them, so no matter how you slice it, I win.

I make a left turn down the hallway that leads me past the entrance to the cages, the first of ten cell blocks, each housing eight cells. As far as I know, we’ve never had more than seventy-three prisoners at one time. We currently only have forty-one, but I get the sense that number will be dropping soon.

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