Page 79 of A Secret and a Lie
When the doors slide open to reveal my stop, I disembark, remove the SIM card and snap it in half. I toss the card and phone in separate trash bins.
I force a smile to my lips and walk toward sovereignty.
PRESENT DAY
“He who wishes to be obeyed must learn how to command.”
Niccolo Machiavelli
Genevieve
Ablowjob. That’s what landed me here. I want to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of that fact.A fucking blowjob.
Technically, it’s because I got paid five grand to give head to a guy I thought I liked. I’m stupid, and the smooth concrete surrounding me only serves as a perpetual reminder of my foolishness.
The worst part is that I want to wholeheartedly regret it, but a sliver of myself doesn’t. While the experience was clearly a transaction for Ford, it meant far more to me. I hadn’t been on my knees for a man since Grady Blandon took a bayonet to my ability to trust people, spearing me in the chest while simultaneously blowing a hole straight through me.
This town is full of liars.
I’m angry and disappointed that I didn’t see him for what he was from the beginning.
@livingh3ll is a piece of my past, a faraway memory that I distance myself from at every opportunity. I should’ve read the signs that he was Ford all along; they were there, flashing in front of my face in bright neon lights. I blame the stupid satellite phone and the staticky connection back then for not recognizing his voice. Although, there’s something colder and more domineering about his tone now.
Fourteen years ago, I found solace in the stranger I met online, and I was craving things with him that I’d never considered until Imet him. But things changed; more importantly,Ichanged. I’m not the woman I was then, and it’s safe to assume that he isn’t either.
Sinking to the floor of my small cell, my head knocks lightly against the hard, cold wall. I close my eyes, wallowing in my vacuity. Even if Ford was simply a conduit for the government, my power was blocked, and I willingly allowed that to happen. I have no one to blame but myself.
The telltaleclankof the cells being accessed in the unit ricochets through the space though I can’t see through the solid metal door with a single slot in the bottom for my meals. I haven’t yet been moved from the FBI holding facility, and I have no idea how long I’ve been locked in this cell, or how long I’ll be forced to remain here. I have nothing but the monotony and my own thoughts to keep me company, as well as the one hour of lonely wandering in the recreation yard.
I’ve only had a handful of showers since I arrived, and I don’t need a mirror to know that I look like hell. The way I feel tells me everything I need to know in that regard.
I was remanded at my arraignment as if I were the mastermind behind a mass murder. I haven’t seen my attorney since I was locked back in this cell, and every effort I’ve made to reach out to her has been in vain. I think weeks have passed, but I can’t be sure since the guards aren’t exactly forthcoming with information or kindness. I have to trust that Corinne is advocating for me on the outside.
There’s a sudden, abrupt buzzing sound, followed by the solid black metal door sliding open with aclangto reveal a beefy guard who looks like he could snap my neck with only his index finger and thumb.
“Let’s go, Watts,” he barks, and I nearly jump out of my skin as I clamor to my feet.
Narrowing my eyes, I stand my ground. “Where are we going?”
I know damn well I can’t fight this man, but it might be worth the effort. I don’t trust this place. I don’t trust the government. I don’t trustanyone—Corinne and Marcus excluded.
His lip curls as he takes a step toward me. “Your lawyer is here.”
Thank you, Corinne.My shoulders sag as relief filters into my veins. I can only imagine how many hurdles Marcus and Corinne were forced to jump through to allow me access to my legal representation.
As the behemoth fastens the cuffs around my wrists and ankles, my chest loosens with the knowledge that I’m about to take a step toward regaining my freedom.
Three more guards follow me as I’m led down the cell block, lined on either side with solid metal cage doors and I wonder who I’m kept in captivity with. Drug lords? Murderers? Terrorists? It’s laughable to think that I deserve to be kept among the FBI’s Most Wanted because I swallowed the goddamn sword. I didn’t even fuck the man.
At least it was a killer cock smoking job, if I do say so myself.
The rubber soles of the most hideous shoes I’ve had the misfortune of wearing squeak on the sterile-looking white tile floor as our group leaves the cell block. We make two more turns before starting down a concrete hallway with nondescript doors spaced throughout, the only thing breaking up the monochromatic gray walls.
The burly guard stops in front of one, and mutters, disdain stamped on his rugged face, “Not sure how your husband got away with arranging this.”
“What?” My eyebrows pinch, my lips twisting. “I’m not married.”
He shrugs, opening the door and shoving me inside before my brain can grasp what the fuck is going on.
