Page 22 of Endangered Species
Cy actually hadn’t known that the man in question was named Travis or that he was in any way related to Lawson. That’s why Cy found Lawson so curious. The dude kept to himself. “Oh, yeah.”
Lawson hesitated for a second before saying, “Listen, I overheard them all shit talking about your boy. They paid off Rogers to turn a blind eye while they take turns with him.”
Cy’s stomach clenched, his fingers pulling back from the sheet almost a half minute too late. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Fuck. “When?”
“Tonight. The showers. You didn’t hear none of this from me, you hear?” Lawson said, his West Virginia drawl thicker than usual. “Last thing I need is to piss of the rest of my fucking family, no matter how goddamn stupid they are. Besides, Rogers will get me thrown in the SHU, and I can’t fuckin’ do another stint in there. Too much time alone makes my skin crawl.”
“Noted.”
Lawson dropped the sheet that was in his hand. “Keep your eyes peeled, man. They’re gonna do whatever they can to get you out of the way. Don’t engage if you don’t have to, and sweep your room for contraband. Something big’s coming. I can feel it.”
Cy grunted in the affirmative, watching Lawson disappear the way he came. He worked in the laundry as well, but Cy rarely saw him, so he must make himself useful somewhere else in the facility. It didn’t matter. Cy didn’t fuck with Lawson. They weren’t friends, but he believed his intel. Lawson had never been known to hang with any one group. Like Preacher, Lawson had found a way to navigate the prison system without a pack. Maybe it was Travis’s connection to Thor’s crew, maybe Lawson just wasn’t worth the trouble, or maybe, as Cy suspected, Lawson had found a way to make himself useful to the right people, even if Cy didn’t know exactly how.
Cy continued his work, pondering the situation. If he went with Nicky to the showers and things went south, Cy would end up in the hole, aka the SHU. Solitary housing unit. It was enough to drive anybody crazy in there, but worse than that, he’d leave Nicky to fight alone. No matter how good a fighter he claimed to be, he wasn’t good enough to take on Thor’s whole crew, and there was nobody crazy enough to jump in and save him. Nobody but Cy, it seemed.
When the work day ended, Cy tried to get the guards to let him swap shifts with Lawson to care for the dogs in the kennel, but Kemp just sneered and said no. Cy worked with Rosie and cleaned the kennels with his heart in his throat. It was impossible to concentrate. Each minute that passed seemed to take an hour, scooping out a piece of Cy’s soul as he tried not to think of what was happening to Nicky minute by minute. He would do his best to fight, but nobody could survive six to one. Nobody.
Rosie growled, then whined, bumping her head against Cy’s hand. “It’s alright, girl,” he lied, letting the dog lick over his palm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll spend more time with you then. I promise.”
Cy locked the kennel and hung the keys on the hook. “All finished.”
Kemp smirked at Cy, his nightstick tapping the plastic containers that held the dry dog food. The sick feeling in Cy’s stomach only worsened as the plastic lid went flying. “You need to clean up your mess first.” Kemp pushed over the huge bin of dog food. “Oops.”
Cy couldn’t stop the growl that escaped or the way his hands clenched into fists as he stared at the mess. He cut his gaze to Kemp whose eyes were narrow slits. “I can’t feed that to the dogs now. It’s tainted.” There were very rigorous standards with the dogs they cared for at the prison. The animals’ health was top priority.
“Still needs to be cleaned up, inmate.”
Cy stared Kemp down, seething, his nostrils flaring. “Permission to get a broom…sir?” He spit the words, wishing they could inflict some lasting damage.
“Denied. There’s a little scoop there. I’m sure you can make use of that.”
“That will take an hour.”
“You got somewhere to be, inmate?” He put an emphasis on the word, fondling his baton, brow arched, his expression telling Cy he was looking for a fight. If Cy fought back, he ended up injured, in the hole, or both. If he did nothing, he lost another hour. The idea of him sitting there picking up dog food while Thor and his crew were somewhere brutalizing Nicky made him want to fucking scream. It made him want to pick Kemp up and shake him like a rag doll, beat him until his insides were on the outside, anything to make Kemp feel the same amount of helplessness and frustration as he did in that moment, to make him feel the pain Nicky could be experiencing even then. But none of those things helped Nicky. None.
Fuck.
“No,” he said between gritted teeth.
“That’s what I thought,” Kemp said, dropping onto another bin of dog food as Cy started the arduous process of scooping up the kibble and putting it back into the bin for disposal.
Time dragged until every passing minute felt like the lash of a razor blade, cutting through the restraints keeping Cy’s rage in check. All he could think about was Nicky. If they hurt him… Fuck, if they killed him… No. No. That wasn’t going to happen.
But if it did, Cy would take every single one of those motherfuckers out, starting with Thor. He’d paint the walls of the prison red with their blood, and if he died, then he died. He’d hardly felt like he was living while he was in there anyway.
Once the food was picked up and securely closed, Cy was shaking, but he just stood, forcing his face into a placid expression. By the time he was back on his block, his heart was racing so fast he worried he might actually pass out. He needed to hit something or splash some water on his face. Were they still in the showers? Was Nicky in the infirmary? He saw Iggy and Jay outside his cell and his heart sank. He shoved past them, expecting to see the worst, but, instead, found Nicky sitting on the lower bunk, the smile on his face slipping as he saw Cy’s panic.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, rising to his feet, hands reaching for Cy before he thought better of it.
Iggy and Jay turned and wandered off without being asked. It was then that he noticed that Nicky’s hair wasn’t wet. “You…you didn’t shower.”
“Rude,” Nicky said, his attempt at humor failing. “What’s wrong?”
“Lawson said Thor and his guys were going to jump you in the showers. I tried to warn you, but Kemp just kept me there, forcing me to do shit to give them more time with you. But you’re not there.”
“No, my attorney showed up. She had some papers for me to sign. I had to meet with her, and I missed my shower.” Nicky dropped back onto his bunk, putting his face in his hands, as if the magnitude of Cy’s words were hitting him. “They were going to…”
Cy leaned against the wall, sucking deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, forcing his heart rate back to normal. They’d managed to accidentally avert disaster once more. But they wouldn’t keep getting lucky, and when their luck ran out, Cy wasn’t exactly sure who of them would be left standing.
