the security is top notch, so bozos like this dude won’t be able to pay me a visit. At least I hope not.
“Good. I’m here to break you out,” the Liam Neeson wannabe announces. His chest puffs up with his words, and I can just tell that he wants to put his hands on his hips and let the Superman vibes waft all over me. I bat them away, and it’s my turn to exhale an exasperated huff.
Not again.
I frown and sit up, my poor stress ball falling to the floor from my inattention and my CD player forgotten on the bed. I stand up and walk over to him, and man, he’s even uglier up close. His face looks like he’s in a permanent scowl, his eyebrows are almost grown together, and his fanged teeth are in serious need of orthodontic work. “I’m pretty sure breaking out a prisoner is against supernatural law. Or human law, even. Lots of laws across the board. Super illegal, man.”
“Alpha Bowen hired us to retrieve you.”
As soon as I hear that name, I quickly spin, scoop up my stress ball, and lie back down on my bed, stretched up legs and all. “Like I told the last guy, no thanks,” I say before opening my pop candy again. This calls for some serious sugar. “I’m good.”
I go back to bouncing and sugar popping.
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The guy gapes at me from the other side of my bars. “What?”
I tilt my head back again, sighing when I have to swallow my candy prematurely. “I said no thanks,” I repeat slowly, rolling my eyes.
You’d think Alpha Bowen and his hard-on for power could hire smarter cronies. I run my gaze over the dim-witted version of Assassin’s Creed...hmm, guess I’m giving him too much credit.
“As much fun as it is to explain this for the fifth time since I got myself locked up, I want to be in here. It’s exactly the stay-cation I’ve been looking for,” I tell him.
I watch his face, waiting for the bewilderment to crawl over his features just like it did with every other Prison-Break-Barbie that came before him...and there it is.
I wish these dudes would just take a hint already. I’m in here because I want to be. Well not here exactly, I’m waiting to get to Nightmare Penitentiary, but who knew the wheels of justice took so fucking long to turn? I mean, how long does it take to throw the book at someone?
I’m hoping after my sentencing today that I finally get transferred, and then Alpha Bowen and his lounge of over-muscled fuckwits won’t be able to get to me anymore.
I still can’t figure out how Bowen found me in the first place. I was so careful not to leave tracks. The not knowing gives me an itch that skitters just under my skin and makes my tail twitch with irritation. It makes me want to run, but I’m so close. Just a few more hours and I’ll be out of his reach, and out of reach from my own lounge.
There’s a long, awkward pause, like the henchman wasn’t expecting this at all. Don’t they talk to each other? If he’d just chatted with Henchman One through Four, he’d have known all of this already.
“You’re saying...you want to stay in jail?” he inquires, his face scrunching up like the words are sour in his mouth.
“Ding, ding, ding! What do we have for our winner, Bob?” I reply cheerfully.
The cell goes quiet, all except for the steady bouncing of my ball against the wall. I clear my throat. “Um...you should probably go,” I point out. “Don’t want to get caught and end up where I am, right? Well...unless you want to hide out too. But let me just tell you, it takes way longer to get punished than you think it will. I mean, I broke so many laws! What the hell is taking them so long?” I shake my head. “The paranormal judicial system needs some serious work.”
He blinks. I bounce.
During his silent gaping, the prison alarms start going off really loudly and red emergency lights begin to flash. I point at the flashing lights and gesture for him to run along. “See? You better hurry up.”
I pull my borrowed headphones back over my ears and blare some Backstreet Boys to drown out the noise. I sigh and shake my head when the militia reject starts to fiddle with the lock on my cell door instead