Fear Nothing (Detective D.D. Warren #7) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,95
next night. Left me alone. Went after one of the new girls instead. She cried. Poor stupid thing. Cried and screamed and cried some more. I didn’t care. That’s what it’s like. If he’s not fucking me, then I’m down with it. I get a night off, hallelujah, praise the Lord. But we’re not animals, you know.”
The woman looked up sharply, her hands skittering across the table. “It’s just, you get treated like one long enough . . .
“Frankie had Friday night off. We all knew it. Waited on pins and needles. The whole unit. Because we knew he was coming. He was our devil, our curse, and sure enough, ten P.M., he sauntered onto the floor. Blue jeans, a Red Sox sweatshirt. And I fucking liked the Red Sox! Then he looked straight at me and grinned. Like it was something special to be his date. Like the fucking new girl wasn’t still bleeding from both ends after what he’d done to her.
“He came over. What the hell was I gonna do? What was, was. Then . . .”
Christi paused, stared at them. “Shana spoke to him. Clear as day. Stood at her cell door and asked him how the divorce was going. What was it like to know some other guy was fucking his wife, raising his kids. And oh yeah, didn’t it just figure his own dog didn’t even like him anymore. I mean, talk about a loser. Look up the word in the dictionary and Frankie’s picture would be right there. . . .” Christi shivered slightly, shaking her head. “Shana kept talking and talking. And she knew things. All these things about Frankie’s personal life. I mean, how the hell? At first, Frankie tried to ignore her; then he told her to shut up, she didn’t know jack shit. But she just kept going and going, and next thing you knew, Frankie was standing in front of her cell, shouting that she was a stupid fucking cunt, and she’d better shut her mouth before he shut it for her. But she didn’t. She smiled, man. She smiled right at him, fucking freakiest damn smile I ever saw.
“‘Make me,’ she said. Just like that.
“I thought that was it. She’d signed her own death warrant. Frankie wasn’t just going to beat the shit out of her; he was gonna kill her. For talking to him like that. For looking at him like that, like he wasn’t nothing but a poor pathetic loser, probably couldn’t even keep his dick up.
“Frankie gestured for Richie to open the cell door. Which he did. Then Frankie exploded into Shana’s room, all jacked up and ready to kill. I could see the whites of his eyes as he went for her. But she stood her ground. Then she smiled again. He faltered. You could almost see some very tiny part of his brain try to sound the alarm. Except it was too late. Frankie charged, and Shana shanked him right in the stomach. I still hear it, sometimes, in the middle of the night. This heavy wet sound. Followed by a sucking noise when she pulled the blade back out. It was a short blade. Maybe a sharpened comb? I’m not sure I ever found out. She must’ve stabbed him dozens of times, the happiest I’ve ever seen a person, while Frankie gurgled, then fell to the floor, and she kept going after him. Squish, squish, squish.
“Richie finally got off his fat ass and sounded the alarm. The response team arrived, all geared up for business. But Shana wouldn’t retreat. She stood over Frankie’s body and bared her teeth at them.” Christi turned unexpectedly toward Adeline. “You gotta understand. The whole place is going nuts. Sirens are going off. Women are freaking out. The corridor is filled with pumped-up guards wielding mattress shields and heavy batons. They’re screaming at Shana to stand down, drop her weapon, fucking face plant. But Shana won’t give it up. She was like some lioness, I don’t know, protecting her kill. Then, while they’re all yelling at her, she licked the blood dripping down her wrist. I thought two of the guards were gonna pass out cold.
“They took her down hard. And she fought them. To the bitter end, she was slashing and kicking and punching. I thought they might kill her. I almost yelled at them to stop. But I couldn’t. Even after what she’d done for me . . . I couldn’t.