Page 74 of Homebound
Now it was Gemma’s turn to tense. “I’m sure you don’t mean that.”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Gemma.”
She loved hearing him say her name. Even in such a context, it was music to her ears.
“I hope it wouldn’t come to that. And I hope he won’t come looking for you,” she was assuring herself as much as him.
“If he knows I am alive, he will.”
“Well, about that. I kind of told him you died,” she sounded sheepish.
His head whipped to her and his eyes seemed to gleam. His upper lip curled in slow motion revealing his bluish top gum. Funky, and weirdly attractive.
She needed to have her head checked.
She pulled her knit hat low on her forehead and rushed to explain, “He gave me a strange vibe. The conversation was happening very fast and suddenly he was wanting to know if I saw a Rix at the prison. He crowded me and his eyes got all crazy like he wasn’t right in the head. So I lied.”
He took it as his due. “As I said, your protective instincts are in the right place. It’ll buy us some time.”
“Us?”
“Us.” He stopped pacing. “You need to take me back.”
“Crap!” She scrambled from the chair. “I lost track of time.”
Amused, Simon got in and Gemma speedily pushed him back to the building. Lightheaded and out of breath from exertion - either he’d gained serious weight or she still had a long way to recovery - Gemma walked them in and underwent a quick pat-down. She speed-walked to the elevator and punched the access code to make it come down.
Marigold was on duty, her eagle eyes latched on Gemma and Simon from her remote position at the supply counter. Simon dipped his head down and settled back making an effort to look helpless and frail, an appearance that, despite his lingering thinness, he now had to work to project. Once word got out that Simon could eat, move, and communicate like everybody else, the wheelchair outings would dry up. He and Gemma both knew it.
The elevator was especially crotchety today, or perhaps Gemma, knowing they were about to miss their time, was being overly impatient. It arrived in due course and took her and Simon upstairs at its usual snail speed. Opening the door, she was relieved to see the cell block empty; other inmates hadn’t returned yet. Little Green Man howled in his cell like a deranged wolf.
With no one to observe him except Gemma, Simon got out of his chair and moved toward his cell under his own power. Gemma followed pushing the empty chair out of the elevator and parking it to the side where it wouldn't obstruct the pathway for when others returned. She was making her way across the narrow corridor to Simon’s cell to lock him up when the door leading to the stairwell opened and Ruby came in with the Obu close on her heels.
There was a split second of stunned silence with everyone frozen mid-stride. And then things started happening with lightning speed.
The Obu was the first to regain the power of motion. His huge body shot toward Gemma as if launched from a catapult, pushing Ruby aside with its mass. Ruby’s body slammed into the wall with a smacking sound and she grunted, robbed of any ability to act quickly.
Eyes widening in terror, breath ballooning her lungs, Gemma’s muscles went tight preparing to flee from the Obu. But even as she processed her reaction in the milliseconds it took for the events to unfold, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away in time.
A strong hand roughly grabbed her by the scruff and yanked her backward with enough force to make her feet leave the ground. The cell door slammed into place. The Obu rammed into the bars face-first. The entire concrete wall shook.
Blinking fast, Gemma realized she was standing inside Simon’s cell, her back pressed flush to his tall bony body. Her lungs released the pent-up air and breath wheezed out of her slowly. She sagged and Simon wrapped his arm across her chest in the manner of a seatbelt to help her keep her balance.
The fast encounter between his head and iron bars meant little to the Obu. The beast whimpered and whined pathetically rubbing his face against the door, indicating a desire to have Gemma pet him. His semi-erect member hung almost to his knees.
Yeah, no way in hell, buddy.
She instinctively pressed backward, closer still to the haven of Simon’s body.
“Your door isn’t locked,” she whispered out of one side of her mouth when she realized Simon’s hand pressing firmly on the bars was the only thing that stood between them and the Obu.
“I know,” he mouthed into her hair holding the door closed.
Other prisoners filed in from the stairs and crowded around in front of Simon’s cell, anxious to see the rest of the show. But two guards also came in from the courtyard and started yelling, threatening bodily harm to dawdling inmates who were taking too long in the corridor.
Ruby materialized next to the Obu. She whipped her stun gun out and aimed it at his bushy flank.
“On the count of three, fucktard. I’m not playing games. One…”
