Baby Doll(67)
What really bothered him wasn’t the loss of the baby itself. What bothered him was that disobedient cunt and her lies. Didn’t everyone see that this was proof that Lily simply wasn’t capable of caring for herself?
“Rick, time’s up.”
Rick heard Angela’s voice and he shut off the water. He grabbed his towel and dried off, and he slipped into his jail-issued uniform. Angela cuffed him, her hands gently stroking his wrist. Rick smiled back, playing up their “connection” for all it was worth. Things had definitely heated up in recent weeks.
He’d been right. It was almost too easy earning her trust. Rick was kept in constant isolation, away from other inmates due to his “high-priority” status. Angela worked the late shift, or the “shit shift” as it was called, given to all the newbies. The other guards hated his guts, so it fell to Angela to escort him to the showers, his lawyer, or outside for his hour of recreation.
Rick’s trick to winning people over was simple—shut up and listen. Most people want to be heard, but they’re always just waiting for their turn to talk. Ugly women craved attention more than anyone. All it took was asking Angela about her life and she came alive. Each night she’d go on and on, venting about her mother, who thought Angela was a loser. Or her drug-addicted ex-husband Nick, who was withholding child support. Or her three-year-old son Caleb, whom she was convinced she was failing. Rick cataloged each name and issue, inquiring about them daily.
“How was Caleb’s first day at daycare?” “Did Nick keep his word and buy diapers?” “Did you tell your mother to go to hell?” Before long, Angela forgot who he was and the crimes he’d confessed to, and she began treating him like a trusted confidante. She’d fume about the ongoing abuse Rick endured at the hands of the guards, wondering how she could rat out her coworkers without losing her job. Rick told her not to bother.
“Maybe someone like me deserves this. Maybe they’re right.”
Angela would grow serious, and quote some bullshit Scripture about forgiveness. Rick never paid attention to religion. It was for mindless sheep, people so weak they couldn’t make decisions without written instructions. But he’d thanked Angela and mentioned that reading Scripture might be a useful way to pass the time. The next day a King James Bible appeared on his cot.
As the days passed he tested Angela, mentioning a novel he wanted to read (generally something pedestrian he knew she’d like, some inane romance novel or self-help book), and like magic it would appear in his cell. Before long there were chocolates and other homemade treats. He’d always thank her profusely, continuing to feign interest in her mundane life.
Now that he was fully dressed, they made their way around the corner and away from the camera’s view. He stopped, pushed her against the wall, and began kissing her passionately. Her desire was obvious, her tongue practically excavating his mouth as her roly-poly body clung tightly to him. He let his hands graze her body. He was really scraping the bottom of the barrel, but he’d been planning this moment. Their first kiss. When he finally pulled away, she was breathless.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks. You’re all I can think about. But it’s not safe. If you got caught…”
A hesitant expression flashed across Angela’s face. Rick wondered if he’d misjudged her, that her sense of duty might outweigh her desire. But she clung to him, her voice a throaty whisper.
“You’re right. We’ll be careful.”
He grinned, lifting up a cuffed hand to stroke her cheek. Angela leaned into it.
“They’re wrong about you, Ricky. I know it.”
He winced. Ricky? But he forced a smile and put his cuffed hand in hers. He let it rest on the front of his pants. Even if she was disgusting, he still had needs and he’d been without female contact for far too long.
“You’ve made me very happy, Angie.”
“I’ll look out for you. Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”
She’d leaned in for one more kiss, and then led him back to his cell. Her hands trembled as she took off the cuffs. By the time she slammed the door shut and disappeared back down the hall, Rick realized that he finally had an ally.
As he settled into his bunk, his mind was racing with ideas and strategies about how Angela would be most useful. With his baby gone and Rick locked away, he knew that Lily was out there celebrating with that pathetic sister of hers, the two of them convinced they’d outsmarted him. He’d have to plan carefully but he hadn’t come this far to let anyone get the best of him. He’d make sure Lily and her entire goddamn family would regret ever underestimating him. He’d make them all pay.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ABBY
The rain poured down in steady, relentless sheets as Abby leaned against the porch railing. Movers drifted in and out of Wes’s house, their arms weighed down with boxes. Her boxes. Since Abby had been living at her mother’s, Wes had moved back into his house. Abby had decided to move home permanently.
Why wouldn’t it rain on moving day? she thought. Just so f*cking typical.
Abby sighed, a sharp pain shooting through her back. It was aching so badly it was as if tiny spikes were digging into the muscles. The alien invader was killing her, literally killing her. That nesting instinct or whatever they called it made her restless. She’d been putting this off, but the baby would be here soon and she needed to extricate herself from Wes in all ways.