Page 42 of On Your Life

When the time comes she will be on her hands and knees begging for reprieve. Too bad I’m not the merciful type.

Chapter 23

Kira

The lights snapping on wakes me abruptly.

What time is it?

I stayed awake as long as I could, waiting for that pretentious asshole to try something. I expected him to show up eventually, to find a new way to dig my grave just a little deeper before he pushed me over the edge. He never did.

Disappointment floods my system, and somehow, that confuses me more than anything else. I shouldn’t want anything to do with him. He has continuously tried to make my life a living hell, but it has made the time pass. Without him, I worry what I would have become with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.

The guard walks by for morning count and I look down from my place on the balcony. There he is.

He’s sitting below, typing furiously on a laptop. Even from up here I can see the tension in his shoulders. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are fixed on the screen. Then his expression twists into pure rage.

He slams the laptop closed so hard it causes me to jump before getting to his feet and storming out of the pod.

What the hell was that about? Whatever. I have shit to do today and he needs to stay far the fuck away from me. I have to focus on getting out of here and clearing my name.

“Kira, a word,” the guard calls from his desk.

Please be release, please be release.

I repeat the phrase over and over in my head like saying it enough times might make it true. Like something has magically changed overnight.

“Captain will see you about your new position, get ready,” he says.

Right, my job. I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world, but it’s definitely not better than freedom.

I turn toward the breakfast line and a pile of fabric hits me straight in the chest.

“Welcome to the club, newbie,” Barbara grins as she walks away.

I look down and see the navy blue uniform. The one that the inmates finally get when they get a job. I’m ashamed at the excitement I feel at the sight of it.

I’m sick of this fucking orange jumpsuit. The thought of being able to go to the bathroom without having to take all of my clothes off makes me sickeningly happy. This is genuinely the best thing that’s happened to me all week. Maybe luck is finally on my side.

I change out of the nasty orange jumpsuit and into the navy blue uniform. The material is a little thicker, but the fabric still feels like sandpaper on my dry skin. The lotion they sell in the commissary is shitty and nothing like what I would choose for myself.

I miss my lavender scented lotion. After a shower, I used to cover every square inch of my body in it before crawling into bed beneath my plush comforter.

God, I fucking hate this place.

By the time I make it back down to the common area, someone else is standing beside the guard. He’s tall and broad shouldered. You can tell by the way he carries himself that he’s in charge around here.

Maybe it’s the grey hairs peeking through that give his title away. Most of the people I’ve seen working here are younger. The few that are older are crabby, but they usually don’t bother you unless you give them a reason to.

I’ve made it my mission to be disgustingly kind to everyone here. Everyone except that uptight asshole that has made a habit of haunting my nights.

One peaceful night without him bothering me was enough to make me feel like a new person. Maybe he finally gave up after getting what he wanted.

A weird as shit way of going about it but maybe I’ll finally have a smidge of peace now.

“Ms. Cunningham,” the captain addresses me with a smile. “Come with me. I’d like to show you your new duties so you’re comfortable before starting your first shift. I know adjusting to prison life is hard, so I’d like to help make this one experience as easy as possible for you.”

You’d think that he’d just smacked me across the face. I have to fix my expression because I feel my jaw go slack for several seconds after the words register.