ONE MORE RIDE Page 8

“How are you holding up?”

  They were the same words Beth had used, and as a reflex, Hank found himself giving the same answer. “I've had worse.”

  He wanted to tell Bull he shouldn't be in here either, if only to get rid of him so Hank could get some rest. But he stopped himself. Clearly, Bull would do as he pleased.

  “Man, every hump in this prison has some kind of nickname,” Bull said. “But after today, I can damn sure see how you earned yours. That was one hell of a fight you just fought.”

  “No it wasn't,” Hank replied. Every word made his face hurt, and he felt like if he were forced to say much more, he might lose his temper. “He beat the fuck out of me for two rounds. Then he stopped. Then he died. I barely laid a glove on him.”

  Bull laughed. “Wow. With descriptive skills like yours, I guess it's a good thing you're not a sports announcer. Anyway, I realize you're probably not in a very talkative mood right now, so I won't take up much of your time. But I made a pile of money betting on you today, son. And I figured you deserved a cut of it, for representing us so well.”

  Bull pulled a thick roll of bills from his pocket, tossing them onto the bed between Hank's legs. Hank looked at it, remembering the sight of Manolo's spasms as he threw up his mouth guard.

  “Keep it. All I want is to know what happened in that ring.”

  Bull shrugged. “Just what I said. You fought harder, you won, he died. It's fucked up, but it happens.”

  “I know it happens.” The pain in Hank's face kept sinking deeper and deeper with each word, until it felt like the front of his skull was one massive bruise. “I killed someone in the ring once before. I know what that looks like. It doesn't look like it did with Manolo, where the guy just stops fighting back after two rounds and collapses in a pool of his own puke.”

  “He probably just had a bad burrito or something. Who knows? As far as I know, it was a clean fight, period. Try not to get too hung up on it.” Bull pointed at the roll of bills. “And seriously, keep that. I know you're feeling a little off right now, but when the bruises and ribs start to heal, I'm betting you'll be glad you've got it. Now get some rest. We'll talk more after the lockdown's over.”

  And with that, Bull left, pulling Hank's door shut and whistling to himself as he returned to his own cell.

  Hank looked at the money for a long moment, then kicked it off the cot and closed his eye again.

  Chapter 16

  Beth

  The lockdown lasted for four days. During that time, there wasn't much for Beth to do except keep patrolling block G and do random cell checks for weapons and contraband. The prisoners stayed in their cells, except for when groups of them were carefully escorted to the cafeteria or the showers. Butler and the other guards made sure that Knights and Sinners ate and bathed at different times, to prevent more fights from breaking out.

  Since the lockdown kept the guards idle for the most part, the more experienced ones started to exchange tales of the riot fifteen years ago. To this day, no one was entirely certain of how it had started. Some said an inmate took up too much time on an exercise machine in the gym, and another prisoner got impatient and shivved him over it. Others insisted that it had been meticulously planned by a few of the convicts as cover for an escape attempt, and that the attack in the gym had been staged.

  All anyone knew for certain was that the convicts had held six guards hostage for almost three whole days before the governor ordered the Emergency Response Team to breach that section of the prison with tear gas and assault rifles. When the smoke cleared, nine prisoners and two guards were dead, and a third guard took a bullet in the spine which left her paralyzed for life.

  The stories scared Beth, especially after the glimpse of chaos she'd gotten after the boxing match. The idea of an entire section of Bluebonnet raging like that for days at a time was terrifying. According to the veteran COs, the hostages had been severely brutalized before the ERT intervened. Even the ones who survived never returned to work at the prison after that. Welker said that some of them later committed suicide or spent the rest of their lives in mental institutions, but based on the relish in Welker's voice when she told these sordid tales, Beth figured she was probably exaggerating for dramatic effect.

  Beth kept drifting over to Hank's cell to check in on him. Each time she did, he glared at her and maintained a stony silence. But she still couldn't help herself, and she was pleased to see that Hank's face was healing, albeit slowly. The swelling had subsided, and the bruises had gone from purple and black to yellow and brown.

  From what Beth had heard, Ram was in much worse shape. He had a depressed skull fracture which had nearly killed him, and it would be at least a week before he made it back to the cell block.

  On the third day of the lockdown, as she walked past Bull's cell, he poked his head out. “Hey, D'Amato. Come in here for a sec.”

  Beth entered Bull's cell, and he handed her a slip of paper and some cash. “I want you to go get me some new porn. I've written down the kind of stuff I'm into, and a couple of my favorite stars. About five DVDs should be enough.”

  She raised an eyebrow, gesturing at his collection of discs. “I'm not doing that. Besides, it looks like you've got plenty of them already.”

  “Yeah, I've seen all of those about a hundred times. I'm bored with them, and I want new ones.”

  “Well, that's too bad, because I'm still not going to do it.”

  Bull's lips smiled, but his eyes were cold and flat. “You know, I'm in this place for life. Actually, three lives...three life sentences. I'm going to be in this cell every hour of every day of every year until I die, and I'll never have sex with a woman ever again.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” Beth answered sarcastically.

  Bull's grin widened. “You should be. See, Butler told me all about you and the Carnage Warriors.”

  Beth felt like a net was tightening around her heart.

  “Don't look so surprised,” Bull continued. “Butler's got no secrets from me. And then you come and drag Hank off on his first day, with some bullshit excuse about bringing him to the warden's office over his paperwork. But according to the warden's secretary, you never brought him there, and his paperwork was fine. After the fight, a few of the guys in here saw you go over to his cell for a few minutes. The same guys also say you've been hovering around the door of his cell a lot since then, looking in on him. It doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out that there's something spicy going on between you two.”

  Oh fuck, Beth thought. I was so sure I was being careful. What have I gotten us into now?

  Bull nodded, as though he could read her thoughts. “Yeah. In a place like this, everyone knows what everyone else is into, and word travels fast. Bottom line: You were sloppy, and you're in deep shit. I own you. I could tell you to strip down to your bare pussy and let me fuck every hole in your body. And then I could do the same thing tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, for as long as we're both in here. And if you refused, I could have Butler turn you in to the cops for the false info on your paperwork. Or I could withdraw my protection from Hank and the rest of the Warriors. Or I could have him killed. Or I could contact my people on the outside and have you gang-fucked and stabbed to death. Or all of the above, if I were in a really bad mood.

  “But instead,” he continued mildly, “all I'm asking you to do is go find an adult video store and pick out a few movies for me. I don't think that's an unreasonable request, do you?”

  Beth shook her head. Her face felt hot, and her eyes were stinging, but she didn't want to cry in front of this monster.

  “Good. It's so much nicer when we agree on things, don't you think?”

  Beth nodded.

  “Now go get my movies,” Bull said. “And please hurry. My dick's starting to get hard, and if I can't plant it in my fist, I'll find somewhere else to put it instead.”

  She went to her car. Once she was behind the wheel, she started shaking like a leaf and the tears spil
led out. She sobbed loudly. She felt stupid and powerless, like a bug who'd walked into a patch of sticky tree sap and suddenly found itself unable to move without tearing off its own legs.

  Once she'd calmed down and wiped the tears from her face, Beth looked up adult video stores on her phone and drove to the nearest one.

  Chapter 17

  Hank

  When the end of the lockdown was finally announced, applause rippled through the cell blocks. The doors were opened and the inmates stepped out into the common areas, stretching and catching up with people they hadn't seen in four days. But since none of them had anything new to report to each other, the talk quickly returned to the topic of the fight and its tragic conclusion.

  Hank noticed that the Sinners were giving him dirtier looks than usual, and when they passed him, he often heard muttered threats. Bull assured him that it was just because so many of them had lost money on the fight, but Hank could tell they all shared his suspicion that the fight was rigged—and they seemed convinced that he'd been in on it.

  A few days after the lockdown ended, Hank was sitting in the prison yard with Bull and Speed Bump when Roberto and a gang of Sinners walked up to them.

  Before Bull or Speed Bump could say anything, Hank stood up and offered a hand to Roberto. “I'm very sorry about what happened to your brother. I didn't have a chance to say anything earlier, but he was one hell of a fighter, and what happened to him was a damn shame.”

  Hank saw Bull's bewildered, pissed-off expression in his peripheral vision, but he ignored it. This was the right thing to do, and he was determined to do it, no matter what Bull thought.

  But Roberto only stared at Hank's outstretched hand with his upper lip curled into a snarl, as though he wanted to rip it right off Hank's wrist. “Yo, you can wrap your fucking apology in greaseproof paper and stick up your ass, white boy. I ain't interested.”

  Bull stood up, standing in front of Hank. “Hey, cholo: Our guy won, your guy lost. Get over it, and get out of our fucking faces.”

  “My brother didn't lose no fight. He had a seizure and choked to death on his own goddamn puke. You want to know why?”

  “Not particularly, no,” Bull said, feigning a yawn.

  Roberto's eyes stabbed into Hank's like daggers. “They found heroin in his system. Lots of it.”

  “Well, that ain't no big surprise,” Speed Bump drawled. “Everyone knows how much you Sinner boys love yer dope.”

  “Yeah, except Manolo fucking didn't. He was straight edge, man. He never did a drug in his life. You gringo cocksuckers cheated. You slipped him the dope somehow, 'cause you knew it was the only way you could win.”

  Bull stepped forward until his face was inches away from Roberto's. “We won because the white man is superior to all other races in every measurable way. You don't like it? Do something about it. Otherwise, go find a chalupa to munch on.”

  Roberto's nostrils flared, and for a moment, Hank was sure he'd haul off and punch Bull. Instead, he took a step back and spat on the ground at Bull's feet.

  “This shit ain't over,” Roberto hissed. “All you pasty white motherfuckers better start sleeping with one eye open.” He turned and walked off, followed by his posse.

  Hank waited until they were out of earshot, then turned to Bull. “Let me guess. You doped Manolo's nasal spray, then told me to punch him in the nose so he'd have to use it.”

  Bull let out a derisive snort. “All right, maybe I did. So what?”

  “First of all, I never cheated in a fight in my life, and it sucks knowing I have now. Second, Roberto was the one giving him the spray. You had him feed poison to his own brother, and you made me part of it.”

  Bull chuckled. “For the life of me, Hank, I simply cannot understand why you keep acting as though these animals are real people like you and me. They're just a bunch of mindless spics and coons, man. They kill each other off by the hundreds every day. Who gives a shit about a couple more?”

  “We got us a problem now, though,” Speed Bump said. “If'n they know we killed Manolo on purpose, they're gonna come after us for sure.”

  “Unless we show them what a bad fucking idea that would be,” Bull replied evenly. He turned to Hank. “You're going to have to kill off one of the Sinners. Maybe even two, if you can swing it. I can get you a weapon by lunchtime. That'll send a message to them and let them know not to start any shit with us.”

  Hank shook his head. “No fucking way.”

  Bull raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, as though Hank had suddenly started speaking in a foreign language. “Come again?”

  Speed Bump stepped in, tittering nervously. “Aw, come on, Bull, ease up. Sure he'll do it, no problem at all.”

  “No, I goddamn won't,” Hank said in a steely voice, glaring at Speed Bump. “And the next time you try to speak for me, Bump, we're going to have a real fucking problem.”

  Speed Bump's jaw went slack.

  “I just gave you a direct order, Hank,” said Bull. “Would you mind telling me just what the fuck makes you think you're in a position to refuse?”

  “First, because it's a stupid order. You fixed the fight, you were dumb enough to get caught, and now you want to start a war over it? Because I may not be a lifer like you and Bump, but even I know that whether I kill one, two, or ten of these guys, it won't stop there. They'll come back at you, you'll have to retaliate, and on and on. Second, I didn't come in here to be your fucking hit man. If I get caught whacking a Sinner—which I probably will—then what do I get? A longer sentence? Life, maybe? I told you when I first got here, all I want to do is keep my goddamn head down and do my time quietly.”

  “You seem to be real big on the 'firsts' and 'seconds' of things,” Bull said slowly. “So I'll give you a couple in return. If you don't do this, the first thing that's going to happen is the Knights and the Warriors stop watching your back. The second thing that'll happen is that your girlfriend D'Amato—or whatever the fuck her real name is—will get dimed out to the cops for giving false information on her application, and she'll go to prison herself. And just to give you a little bonus, the third thing that will happen is that wherever she's sent, I'll get word to the Aryans there that she needs to die...slowly, if possible. Do you want me to keep counting, Hank? Or would you agree that my math checks out?”

  Fuck, Hank thought. They found her out. I knew this would happen. I just didn't expect it so soon.

  Bull put an arm around Hank's shoulder. “Look. You're a stand-up guy and a real hardcase, and I respect the hell out of that. We all do. No one wants us to come to a parting of the ways. You're a valued member of our organization, and with your skills, I'm sure you'll contribute a lot. So here's what's going to happen. One of the Knights is going to slip you a shiv in the cafeteria, and you're going to kill a Sinner by the end of the day—you choose, they all look alike to me anyway—and we'll go ahead and forget your little attack of conscience. Sound good?”

  Hank nodded tightly. The truth was, he had no intention of killing a Sinner, and no idea of how he was going to get out of this predicament.

  “I'm glad to hear it,” Bull said. “And no more hissy fits, okay? I own this goddamn prison, and I'm getting a bit tired of making these speeches to prove it. Just do as I say from now on, and everything will be fine.”

  Hank highly doubted it.

  Chapter 18

  Hank

  Hank sat on a bench in the gym, lifting a pair of hand weights and trying to ignore the ugly feeling of the shiv tucked in his waistband. The Aryan working the line in the cafeteria had slipped it to him under the tray—it was a sharpened length of metal from a bed frame, with one end wrapped in a strip of blanket for a handle. In Bluebonnet, these weapons were known as “Lullabies.”

  There were plenty of Sinners working out near Hank, and he could feel the hostility radiating from them. All of them thought he'd been in on the plan to kill Manolo, and all of them wanted to make him pay for it.

  He couldn't blame them.<
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  Still, some of them were so close—and were looking at him so menacingly—that he couldn't help but think of how easy it would be to simply pull out the shiv and ram it into one or two of them before they knew what hit them. The guards were close enough to break up the resulting scuffle almost immediately, and they wouldn't see or report anything Bull didn't want them to. Hank would probably get away with it completely, and he would prove his loyalty to Bull.

  But then what?

  Then it would be open war, with Hank as public enemy number one among the Sinners. And even with Bull's protection, odds were decent that at least one of the Sinners would end up getting to Hank somehow, and he'd be forced to kill them too. And even if he got away with that, it would only be a matter of time before Bull forced him to do something else that was horrible, dangerous, and likely to earn him a longer sentence.