Prison Snatch Read online

  When she was finished braiding her hair, she unzipped her jumper and tucked the ends down into the neck of her jumper, then zipped it back up as far as it would go. She was not sleeping in here with that broad tonight, or any other night.

  She kneeled, and tightly tied the laces to her Reebok Lady Classics.

  She took a deep breath then stood and reached for the radio that sat atop her desk.

  “Soon as we lock in, I got somethin’ for that ass,” Coletta informed her girls, “for what she did to our girl, Snake.”

  “I know that’s right,” a dark-skinned inmate named Lacy agreed. She and Coletta were codefendants, both born-and-bred criminals, incarcerated this time for carjacking an elderly woman driving a Mercedes-Benz CLK at a stoplight. The elderly white woman had been snatched out of her car at knifepoint and thrown to the ground. She’d had a heart attack during the crime, and had been pronounced dead the moment the paramedics arrived on the scene. That, coupled with the carjacking, was what had given the two women a twenty-five-to-life sentence.

  “Shiiiit, fuck waitin’ for tonight,” another inmate who went by the name Goldie hissed. “Let’s hop on that ass now.” She was serving an eight-year sentence for four counts of burglary and endangering the welfare of a minor. Each time she burglarized someone’s home or car, she’d taken her three-year-old son with her while she committed her crimes.

  “No. I’ma handle this one my—”

  Heaven had leapt out of the cell with her arm pulled all the way back and hit Coletta in the face with the radio, sending her head snapping to the left. Blood spurted everywhere. It happened so fast that it had stunned them all.

  Pumped with high levels of adrenaline, she beat Coletta in the face with the radio, not giving her a chance to recover from the blows. She’d split her lip, and beaten her eyes swollen. Immediately, pandemonium erupted on the tier as four of Coletta’s girls jumped in to help their homie, punching and kicking Heaven to get her off of her.

  The whole scene was being captured on camera, causing the two COs manning the control center to take bets as to which inmates would be rolled out on stretchers as they watched on. The housing officer immediately backed up against the wall and radioed into central control for backup. A code was called.

  Heaven was beat about the back and head with homemade clubs and fists and feet. But that didn’t stop her from taking her razor-sharp nails and nearly gouging Coletta’s left eye out, while she used her free hand and continued to punch the side of her face in. And, unbeknownst to her, Coletta Evans and her girls were members of a notorious street gang.

  And she’d just taken on all five of them.

  FIVE

  Breaking Up Somebody’s Home . . .

  Warden Kate was livid!

  She fell back into her chair in an angry daze. She’d just viewed the playback video for 4 East. What she witnessed on that tape made her stomach churn. It was appalling. Goddamn embarrassing. Women fighting like wolves.

  The melee up on the third tier suddenly incited several other fights down in the day space, causing inmates to brawl, fighting and throwing plastic chairs at each other. One of those chairs somehow managed to hit Officer O’Neal in the face, causing blood to spill from her nose. And the one woman whom she’d struggled to keep her eyes off of so that she could view the entire fiasco was that fucking inmate Lewis. Hadn’t she just been released from solitary? And less than one hour later, her ass was already in the mix of more shit.

  The warden snatched open her bottom drawer and reached under a pile of folders, pulling out her flask filled with—this time, Stoli. She unscrewed the cap and sighed. She knew inmate Lewis was going to become the proverbial thorn in her goddamn side, one she would have to pluck out before it caused her a shitload of grief.

  On a tier of sixty-eight women, twenty of them had been slightly injured. And another three were severely wounded—one of those being Coletta Evans.

  She’d been beaten nearly unconscious, the lens of her left eye severely clawed.

  Good for her troublesome ass!

  Truth was, the warden couldn’t stand her loudmouth, thuggish ass. Trashy bitch. She knew she had to have been the sole instigator in all of this recent mess, as she always was. Yet, she couldn’t prove it. And, the fact of the matter was, she was glad someone had finally stomped her ass real good. Still, for appearance’s sake, she had to appear concerned for the wretched bitch’s welfare.

  She sighed.

  Two of the prison’s most aggressive inmates had been hospitalized in two separate incidents, both at the hands of inmate Lewis. She honestly thought she’d be more of a problem by trying to seduce her COs, or fuck one of the civilian staff.

  Not by fighting.

  But it appeared the feisty bitch liked violence more so than she did cock. Fighting was probably how she got her rocks off, the warden surmised. After all, she’d shot her own boyfriend in the back. Three times.

  Mmph.

  Then she probably fucked herself with the butt of her gun afterward, the warden mused as she pressed play again, and watched the video for a second time. She fast-forwarded certain parts of the tape to get to other sections. When she got to the part where the housing officer had gotten hit in the face with the chair, the warden paused it, slamming a hand down on her desk.

  “This shit is unacceptable,” she hissed, finally bringing the neck of her flask up to her lips. If these convicts wanted to kill each other, perhaps she should simply let them all out in the yard with their shanks and homemade clubs and have at it like the savages they were acting like.

  Millions of dollars had been invested into rehabilitation programs for the women at Croydon Hill. From horticulture and dog grooming to the prison’s tailoring and shoemaking and cosmetology programs—along with treatment and educational programs and support groups, these women were afforded the tools to get back into society and be productive citizens, if they so chose to be.

  But most of these women would rather jail than do something constructive with their time. So obviously many of them didn’t want to be rehabilitated, so why should she give a damn? Obviously, these uncivilized bitches were living proof that they didn’t give a fuck, either. Well, so be it. But she’d be damned if she was going to let them tear down her prison with their savagery.

  Fuck it all to hell.

  They were a bunch of damn cavewomen.

  She took a quick swig of her booze. Then another. Each time she swallowed the vodka, she felt a warming in the center of her chest spread through her breasts. She closed her eyes and took a third gulp, before opening her eyes and then quickly twisting the cap back on her flask. She would have loved to finish off what was inside, but she didn’t need to be staggering out of her office.

  It was too early in the day for that.

  “Captain Caldolini is here to see you.”

  Startled, Warden Kate dropped her flask on her lap as her secretary Susan poked her head in the doorway as she pushed open her door—without knocking.

  That was a close call. What if she had been caught with her coveted flask to her lips? Then what? She made a mental note to remember to lock her door, first, before she engaged in her nip fests.

  She stared at Susan for a moment before she said anything. She simply adored her. She’d inherited her from the last warden, Mr. Duncan. And, thus far, she had proven to be quite efficient in her duties. She was hardworking and dependable. And she knew prison policy like the back of her hand.

  Warden Kate valued that about her. But she didn’t appreciate the fact that this old bitch couldn’t remember to knock before she walked into her damn office.

  Susan fingered the pearls around her neck. “Ma’am, did you hear me? Is everything all right?”

  Warden Kate speared her with a sharp stare. “No. Susan,” she finally said, discreetly slipping her flask from her lap to her opened drawer, then sliding it back under the pile of folders. “Everything isn’t all right. For starters, you not knocking before walking into
my damn office is a problem for me. How many times must I tell you this? Knock. Then wait to be told to enter. Understood?”

  The sixty-six-year-old secretary was speechless for a second. She felt chastised like some five-year-old and she didn’t like it one bit. Mr. Duncan had never spoken to her in this manner. She wasn’t accustomed to such disrespect. She had a mind to tell her so. Then put in her retirement papers first thing in the morning. But she needed the income. If she didn’t need the money to pay for her husband’s nursing home expenses, she’d tell the warden to kiss her tired, wrinkled ass, then slam the door in her face.

  “My apologies, Warden. It won’t happen again.”

  “I hope not,” she said sternly. She saw the look on Susan’s face, and immediately felt bad for being so brusque, but she was not in the mood to apologize. Follow damn instructions. Knock first.

  “You can send the captain in.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “No. That will be all,” she said as she stood. She smoothed her hands down over the front of her tailored skirt, and eyed Susan as she walked out the door.

  A sigh left her. She couldn’t deal with her hurt damn feelings right now. At the moment, all she could manage to think of was Susan walking into her office and catching her taking a drink. But to smooth things over with her, she’d have flowers sent up from the prison’s florist shop.

  She quickly reached into her top drawer and popped two mints into her mouth. There were two things she loved about vodka: it was colorless and nearly odorless. So she could drink throughout the day without anyone being none the wiser. She’d have a shot, or two, in her morning Starbucks coffee, then a little splash or two in her afternoon tea. Followed by several sips from her flask midday, depending on how badly these barbarians—or her staff, worked her nerves.

  She swirled her tongue around the candy as it began to dissolve in her mouth.

  Seconds later, Captain Nicholas Caldolini walked in. His olive complexion and dark-black hair—that always seemed tousled, along with those dreamy gray eyes of his, made most women swoon. He’d even had his fair share of prison pussy back in his earlier days. But he’d given all that up once he’d been promoted to sergeant.

  In his early forties, the six-two MIT grad and former football star played running back in the early nineties for the Broncos. Two seasons later, his career was cut short due to a knee injury. Now here he was. A captain. Thanks to nepotism, he’d moved up the ranks rather quickly. Nonetheless, heat bloomed in her cheeks at the sight of him. Warden Kate found him irresistibly handsome and sexy. “Good afternoon, Warden. I understand you wanted to see me?”

  Mm, yes. Naked would be nice.

  She walked around her desk, gesturing with her hand toward the chairs situated in front of her desk. “Please, sit.” His scent flitted across her nostrils as she waited for him to take a seat. He smelled heavenly.

  Her mouth watered—and not from the mints.

  As he folded his muscular physique into one of the chairs, the warden hiked up her skirt a few inches, then sat on the edge of her desk, her body positioned toward him.

  She swallowed. “You’re looking good these days, Captain.” Her eyes roamed over his body. “Are you hitting the gym harder than usual?”

  He flushed. Was she flirting with him? God, he hoped so. He secretly had a thing for older women, especially mature black women.

  He smiled at her, then said, “No more harder than usual. Thanks, though.”

  She crossed her legs, and allowed the heel of her Prada shoe to dangle from her foot as she slowly slid her tongue over her lips, momentarily contemplating getting up and locking her door, peeling out of her skirt, sliding back on her desk and spreading open her legs, offering him up some of her lonely pussy. It felt so wet and empty.

  God, she wanted so desperately to have it stuff full with cock.

  She swallowed back the knot of lust pooling in her mouth. “So tell me, Nicholas,” she said, throwing formality straight out the window, getting directly to the point. “What the fuck is going on in my prison?”

  He shifted in his seat, somewhat taken aback by her abrupt change in tone. He looked at her, but suddenly seemed to become distracted by the sight of her toned calves. He’d always thought the warden was exquisite-looking for a woman her age. Chic. Sophisticated. She was like a fine wine that kept getting better with age.

  Good black definitely hadn’t cracked where she was concerned.

  The warden noticed his gaze on her legs and uncrossed them, then slyly spread them slightly open, hoping he’d catch a whiff of her nearly convulsing pussy.

  If he’d ever make a move on her, she’d fuck his white dick in a heartbeat. She’d let him swirl his vanilla all in her chocolate. She didn’t care how big it was, as long as it wasn’t pink, she’d give it to him in all three holes.

  He shifted in his chair again, then placed his elbows on the arms of his seat and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as if he was contemplating the right words to say. Then after long hesitation, he finally answered her question.

  “From what the reports say, Warden, inmate Lewis had approached the housing officer in an aggressive manner, demanding to be moved off Four East.”

  Her brow furrowed. “And does the reports mention why she wanted to be moved?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe the housing officer asked. It wasn’t mentioned in any of the reports.”

  She tilted her head, giving him a blank look. “Perhaps there was a legitimate reason why the inmate—who is still relatively new in this facility—wanted to be immediately moved. But we wouldn’t know that since the question hadn’t been asked. Now would we? And why exactly was she moved over on Four East in the first place?”

  4 East—the Zoo, as it was called—was for the more problematic women.

  The captain slowly shook his head. “Warden, I have no clue.”

  “Well, I suggest you get a clue, Captain. I don’t want a repeat of this happening again. Has anyone spoken to the inmate?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I believe the hearing officer did.”

  “And what has he said?”

  “That she was insolent. Uncooperative. And based on his investigations, she was the instigator.”

  What a crock of bullshit, she thought, biting the inside of her lip. She fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She knew from her days of working with Officer Alvin on the housing units how shady he could be. He’d had numerous write-ups over the years for embellishing the truth and for his use of excessive force. He was also known for being verbally abusive toward some of the women.

  Officer Alvin was crooked then. And she’d bet her entire paycheck and a bottle of her best vodka that he was crooked now. She’d love nothing more than to nail his cock to a stake and burn his ass.

  “She’s being charged with inciting a riot,” the captain added, pulling her from her thoughts.

  Warden Kate slid off her desk, pulling her skirt down. “I need to know exactly what went on over in that housing unit, before she gets that sort of charge. And if that is the case, then several others should be charged accordingly as well.”

  “Understood,” he said, standing to his feet.

  The warden extended her hand. “Thanks for coming in.”

  He slid his large hand over hers as his hot eyes matched her gaze, and she almost forgot to breathe until he smiled at her. “I’ll keep you posted on the investigation.”

  “Yes, you do that.” She walked ahead of him toward the door, and felt his eyes on her ass. She was tempted to give him a sassy shake with each step, but she had to remind herself that she was still his superior, even if her cunt ached for the feel of his dick sliding in and out of her. Ole Stoli was going to get her in trouble if she didn’t rein her hormones in. “And in the meantime, I’ll be paying a visit to inmate Lewis.”

  “She’ll be in the infirmary for at least another day, before she’s taken down to solitary.”

  The warden pursed he
r lips. “Then I’ll wait until she’s settled in.”

  The captain nodded as she opened the door. “Before you go down to see her, ma’am. I’m sure you are aware that she’s been known to flash officers and become highly sexual. From what I’m told, she can be quite brazen.”

  The warden’s breath caught in her throat as she gripped the door’s handle. “Well, if Miss Lewis insists on conducting herself in such lewdly ways, then I guess I should prepare myself for the show.”

  SIX

  What’s In It For Me . . . ?

  “Lewis?” the CO called out as he peered inside her cell through the tiny, rectangular window, tapping on the thick glass with his Folgers key. He couldn’t completely see her from where she was in her cell, but he knew she was there.

  The CO was glad she hadn’t been injured too badly after that bloody brawl she’d had over on 4 East. A few lumps on the back of the head and multiple bruises across her back had been all she’d encountered. After two days of being in the infirmary, she was released. Thank God.

  He’d been happy to see her back in lockup. Back in the same cell she’d left only a week prior. Where she belonged. He’d missed seeing her sexy-ass prancing around in her cell nude, dick-teasing him, and anyone else who dared to look.

  She was a dime-piece, a freaky one at that. And he wanted her to himself.

  “Are you dressed?”

  She opened her eyes.

  Of course she was dressed.

  Dressed in her beautiful skin. Her bare-nakedness. Baring her birthday suit for all to see as she had done during her last stay. She wasn’t ashamed of her body. In fact, she loved it. And why shouldn’t she? She’d worked hard to maintain it, after all.

  “Open it,” she heard someone else say on the other side of the door. It was a woman’s voice.