Riot
Page 13
“I should have listened.” Regret filled her voice.
“Yes, you should have, but it’s too late now.”
“I know. My family will be worried sick.”
“They’ll get through this, and you will, too. If you let me get some sleep.” Ice took his arm away, rolling over to give her his back.
“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” She stared at the tattoo on his back, Predators was inked in bold letters with a large Grim Reaper underneath. Grace wasn’t reassured by his promise.
“You do that.”
Grace closed her eyes. This time, she managed to fall asleep.
Sometime later, she woke when a tiny flicker of sunlight shown on her face. Sitting up on the matt, she heard the men talking and moving around the room. She got to her feet, coming from behind the barrier to see Max and Jackal were both standing nearby.
“I need to use the restroom.” Jackal turned his head.
Ice, who was talking to Fade, broke away and came to her.
“She needs to go to the restroom,” Jackal told him.
“Okay.” While Ice walked across the room with her, she felt the prisoners’ eyes on her with greater intensity this morning.
She paused before going into the restroom. “Did something happen while I was sleeping?”
“No. Why?” Ice’s voice was curt.
“The men are all staring at me.”
Ice surveyed her critically. “Your hair came loose while you slept, and you took off your jacket. You look like you’ve just been fucked. The men haven’t had a woman in a long time, so they’re going to stare. As long as they don’t touch, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
Grace went inside the restroom, shutting the door. She had a problem with it. She learned a long time ago men eventually grew tired of just looking. Women could look at something they wanted and dream about it, work for it, and save for countless days to have it. Men wanted things immediately. If they couldn’t buy it, they would borrow, bribe, or bargain for what they wanted. Eventually, they would grow tired and try to take it. That was what Grace feared the most.
She noticed Ice’s circle of friends consisted of six men who were loyal to him and followed his lead. However, there were over thirty men in that room, and Grace didn’t want to be trapped there when Hell broke loose and a confrontation from the two groups occurred.
She had thought Ice was behind the prison escape, but he had led them down to the cellblock instead. He and his men could have used the food delivery truck and possibly managed to get away. Could someone else have been behind the prison break and Ice was only trying to protect his men? Something was off to her, and she couldn’t figure out why.
She quickly used the restroom, washing her face and hands. Then she put her jacket back on and buttoned her cream blouse to her throat. She fixed and straightened her hair as best she could without a brush before opening the door.
Ice’s lips twitched when he saw her. “Very professional.”
Grace avoided staring at several tattoos across his broad chest.
“Why don’t you put on a shirt? Aren’t you cold?” The building was frigid.
“I’m fucking freezing,” he snapped back at her. “They turned off the heating. My shirt, if you can call it that, is over in the door where we jammed them at the bottom to keep out the tear gas. Would you rather I wear the shirt instead of not choking to death on that shit?”
“Never mind,” she said, irritated at his comeback. The bastard knew he had an amazing body, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes off it. Why couldn’t he be a normal man, working a normal job? She didn’t care what profession a man worked as long as he wasn’t behind bars.
“Want something to eat?” he asked when she took a seat at one of the vacant tables.
She folded her arms across her chest. “No,” she answered grumpily.
He raised a brow at her response.
“I could use something to drink if you have it.”
When Ice nodded, stepping away, Max and Jackal took seats next to her. She gave them an aggravated look, getting tired of having them surrounding her so closely. Instantly, she changed her mind when a fight broke out between two prisoners in front of the table she was sitting at. Max stood tossing both of them away, before retaking his seat.
“You're not exactly a morning person, are you?” Max asked as if he had just thrown the men several feet like they were toothpicks.
“I need my caffeine.” Every morning, she would always stop by Starbucks and get her Café Mistro and oatmeal. Sometimes, she would vary the meal, though never the coffee.
A cup of coffee was set down in front of her along with a microwavable Danish. Ice then placed a couple of packets of sugar and creamer in front of her.
“How?”
“Fade broke into the commissary,” Ice said, watching her tear open the packets of sugar. Her fingers trembled as she tried to ignore the fascination she was beginning to feel for him.
She stared across the room, seeing Fade now attempting to break into another locked metal door. She had noticed him doing it last night.
“What’s he trying to break into now; the storage room for more clothes?” she wisecracked as she took a grateful sip of her coffee after adding both packets of sugar and creamer.
“No, solitary.”
Her gaze went back to Fade working. She hoped he was unsuccessful because she didn’t want another prisoner added to the already-full room. Immediately, she felt guilty. The man in that room hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon.
She tore a piece of her Danish off, but both Max and Jackal forestalled her by raising their hands.
“We already ate.” Max grinned.
Grace popped the sweet pastry in her mouth, devouring it within a minute.
“How do you stay so thin with the way you like sugar?” Ice’s gaze swept over her body.
Grace licked the remains of the icing clinging to her lip, shrugging. “I’m lucky, always have been. It makes my mom and CeCe furious.”
Ice’s eyes were focused on her mouth. Self-consciously, she licked her lips again to make sure she hadn’t left any icing on them.
“Damn.” He left suddenly without another word.
“What’s his problem?”
“I think he realized he was hungry,” Jackal said as the men began gathering around the television set.
“What’s going on?” Grace looked at the screen while someone turned the volume up.
“Who is that?” Max asked as the men admired the lithe blonde on the screen. Next to her stood an even taller man with his arm around her shoulder, supporting her. His muscular frame almost filled the small television screen.
“That’s Oceane Fournier and her husband, Dalton Andrews.”
“How do you know who they are?” Max asked Jackal.
“Because I watch his movies,” Jackal answered.
Max stared hard at the screen while Grace stood, her face going ashen.
“He’s the one in those car movies?”
“Yes. Now shut the fuck up so I can hear what the fuck they’re saying.”
“Please, release Adrienne. We will pay any amount of money you want.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ice move to see the television.
“Yes, you should have, but it’s too late now.”
“I know. My family will be worried sick.”
“They’ll get through this, and you will, too. If you let me get some sleep.” Ice took his arm away, rolling over to give her his back.
“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” She stared at the tattoo on his back, Predators was inked in bold letters with a large Grim Reaper underneath. Grace wasn’t reassured by his promise.
“You do that.”
Grace closed her eyes. This time, she managed to fall asleep.
Sometime later, she woke when a tiny flicker of sunlight shown on her face. Sitting up on the matt, she heard the men talking and moving around the room. She got to her feet, coming from behind the barrier to see Max and Jackal were both standing nearby.
“I need to use the restroom.” Jackal turned his head.
Ice, who was talking to Fade, broke away and came to her.
“She needs to go to the restroom,” Jackal told him.
“Okay.” While Ice walked across the room with her, she felt the prisoners’ eyes on her with greater intensity this morning.
She paused before going into the restroom. “Did something happen while I was sleeping?”
“No. Why?” Ice’s voice was curt.
“The men are all staring at me.”
Ice surveyed her critically. “Your hair came loose while you slept, and you took off your jacket. You look like you’ve just been fucked. The men haven’t had a woman in a long time, so they’re going to stare. As long as they don’t touch, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
Grace went inside the restroom, shutting the door. She had a problem with it. She learned a long time ago men eventually grew tired of just looking. Women could look at something they wanted and dream about it, work for it, and save for countless days to have it. Men wanted things immediately. If they couldn’t buy it, they would borrow, bribe, or bargain for what they wanted. Eventually, they would grow tired and try to take it. That was what Grace feared the most.
She noticed Ice’s circle of friends consisted of six men who were loyal to him and followed his lead. However, there were over thirty men in that room, and Grace didn’t want to be trapped there when Hell broke loose and a confrontation from the two groups occurred.
She had thought Ice was behind the prison escape, but he had led them down to the cellblock instead. He and his men could have used the food delivery truck and possibly managed to get away. Could someone else have been behind the prison break and Ice was only trying to protect his men? Something was off to her, and she couldn’t figure out why.
She quickly used the restroom, washing her face and hands. Then she put her jacket back on and buttoned her cream blouse to her throat. She fixed and straightened her hair as best she could without a brush before opening the door.
Ice’s lips twitched when he saw her. “Very professional.”
Grace avoided staring at several tattoos across his broad chest.
“Why don’t you put on a shirt? Aren’t you cold?” The building was frigid.
“I’m fucking freezing,” he snapped back at her. “They turned off the heating. My shirt, if you can call it that, is over in the door where we jammed them at the bottom to keep out the tear gas. Would you rather I wear the shirt instead of not choking to death on that shit?”
“Never mind,” she said, irritated at his comeback. The bastard knew he had an amazing body, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes off it. Why couldn’t he be a normal man, working a normal job? She didn’t care what profession a man worked as long as he wasn’t behind bars.
“Want something to eat?” he asked when she took a seat at one of the vacant tables.
She folded her arms across her chest. “No,” she answered grumpily.
He raised a brow at her response.
“I could use something to drink if you have it.”
When Ice nodded, stepping away, Max and Jackal took seats next to her. She gave them an aggravated look, getting tired of having them surrounding her so closely. Instantly, she changed her mind when a fight broke out between two prisoners in front of the table she was sitting at. Max stood tossing both of them away, before retaking his seat.
“You're not exactly a morning person, are you?” Max asked as if he had just thrown the men several feet like they were toothpicks.
“I need my caffeine.” Every morning, she would always stop by Starbucks and get her Café Mistro and oatmeal. Sometimes, she would vary the meal, though never the coffee.
A cup of coffee was set down in front of her along with a microwavable Danish. Ice then placed a couple of packets of sugar and creamer in front of her.
“How?”
“Fade broke into the commissary,” Ice said, watching her tear open the packets of sugar. Her fingers trembled as she tried to ignore the fascination she was beginning to feel for him.
She stared across the room, seeing Fade now attempting to break into another locked metal door. She had noticed him doing it last night.
“What’s he trying to break into now; the storage room for more clothes?” she wisecracked as she took a grateful sip of her coffee after adding both packets of sugar and creamer.
“No, solitary.”
Her gaze went back to Fade working. She hoped he was unsuccessful because she didn’t want another prisoner added to the already-full room. Immediately, she felt guilty. The man in that room hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon.
She tore a piece of her Danish off, but both Max and Jackal forestalled her by raising their hands.
“We already ate.” Max grinned.
Grace popped the sweet pastry in her mouth, devouring it within a minute.
“How do you stay so thin with the way you like sugar?” Ice’s gaze swept over her body.
Grace licked the remains of the icing clinging to her lip, shrugging. “I’m lucky, always have been. It makes my mom and CeCe furious.”
Ice’s eyes were focused on her mouth. Self-consciously, she licked her lips again to make sure she hadn’t left any icing on them.
“Damn.” He left suddenly without another word.
“What’s his problem?”
“I think he realized he was hungry,” Jackal said as the men began gathering around the television set.
“What’s going on?” Grace looked at the screen while someone turned the volume up.
“Who is that?” Max asked as the men admired the lithe blonde on the screen. Next to her stood an even taller man with his arm around her shoulder, supporting her. His muscular frame almost filled the small television screen.
“That’s Oceane Fournier and her husband, Dalton Andrews.”
“How do you know who they are?” Max asked Jackal.
“Because I watch his movies,” Jackal answered.
Max stared hard at the screen while Grace stood, her face going ashen.
“He’s the one in those car movies?”
“Yes. Now shut the fuck up so I can hear what the fuck they’re saying.”
“Please, release Adrienne. We will pay any amount of money you want.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ice move to see the television.
