“You did what?” Lena hisses in amusement from her bunk.
It’s dark as fuck, only the tiniest sliver of moonlight peeking in from the small rectangular window. The lights went out hours ago, but I haven’t been able to fall asleep. I guess the loud rustle of my tossing and turning woke her up a little while ago, and when she asked me what was wrong, I finally unloaded. Literally word vomited every single detail of the last almost two weeks on her.
“I told him I’d suck his dick,” I repeat, biting my lip at the memory of his face when the words left my mouth yesterday. “Told him he could fuck me, too, if that’s what it would take to get him to agree.
“And? What did he say?” she presses excitedly.
“That I know we can’t.”
Selena scoffs a quiet laugh and drops her head over the edge of the bunk, curly locks spilling over in a wild veil. I can’t see her face in the obscurity, but I can feel her wicked smile. “He didn’t say no, though. Twenty bucks says you’ll be fucking him in a week.”
My. Pussy. Clenches.
Just imagining myself beneath Andrés, even if it’s up against one of these dirty-ass walls, is enough to ignite the heartbeat in my clit.
Down, girl.
“I’m more worried about the phone than fucking him, Lena.” And that’s not a lie.
Do I want him? Obviously. But I want the phone more. It’s not even a want; it’s a need. Neither Ma nor I can afford for me to make daily calls, and now that I know she’s sick, I’ll lose my whole shit worrying about her the days between calls without one. My sanity is all I have left in this place.
Fuck the risk and the extra time they’d add to my sentence if they found it. She’s gonna die before I’m freed anyway. Might as well soak up what little time she has left however I can.
“Oh, he’ll get you the phone, watch, and then he’s gonna rearrange your insides.” Lena snickers, disappearing from my line of sight. “I want all the details like right after, you hear me? Not a million years later like this time. Why didn’t you tell me you’d been passing kites?”
She can’t see me, but I shrug, running my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know. I hadn’t planned to do it really. It was a spur of the moment decision after two heated days, which ended up backfiring.”
“I’m not surprised, honestly. It’s a lot to process in a short amount of time. If I got hot just watching the two of you look at each other, I can only imagine what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of that pointed stare. I guess the question now is, does it hit harder than what you felt with Ángel?”
The sound of his name sends my shoulders flying up to my ears. My heart could probably shatter into a million pieces again if I allow myself to think about him for too long. Four years later, y ese pendejo can still get me down. “No, but it hits a different way.”
“Good different or bad different?”
“Both.”
“Can’t be both mujer. Pick one.” She laughs, the bunk shaking a bit as she shifts around to get comfortable.
I do the same, rolling onto my side, wringing the sheet in my fists. “It is both, though. It’s good because it’s nothing like what I felt with Ángel, but it’s bad, too, because I know I shouldn’t be feeling this at all. This isn’t The Bachelor: Prison Edition.”
“You can’t control shit like that, B. No one can. A connection like that doesn’t give a flying fuck about time or place. It comes in hard and fast when we least expect it.”
She’s definitely not wrong there. Andrés came in like a goddamn freight train. “I know, I know, but…”
“But what?” she presses again, and again I shrug into the darkness.
There isn’t an actual “but” other than a singular fact I’m ashamed to admit to myself, much less voice aloud.
Fear—the fear of getting hurt again. ‘Cause let’s face it, this thing—whatever it is—is intense enough as it is, and while I don’t regret opening the door a ways more, it’s a very real possibility I’ll be left to pick up the pieces when it’s all said and done. I don’t think my heart could handle it. The first time was hard enough.
A quick fuck? Sure, no problem, I could do that all day with my eyes closed, but something tells me that if Andrés puts his hands on me, it’s going to be far from those detached quick fuck vibes.
“Just keep it light, okay?” Selena says after a silent beat. “No kissing, none of that sweet shit. Suck him off, let him pound you into next week, and that’s it. Wham bam thank you, ma’am, or I guess, in this case, thank you, sir. And that’s only if he gives you the phone. If he doesn’t, call that shit off and keep it moving. We’ll find a way for you to talk to mami.”
I’m not even remotely surprised she knew what I was thinking, not when we’ve been bunkies for three years. Selena knows everything there is to know about me and vice versa, which means she knows I’m a hard-ass bitch.
My heart, though?
Not so much.
Yard time is one of my favorite parts of the day. The Florida humidity still sucks, but being out in the sun and getting to breathe that fresh air helps get me through another day. Today is no exception. It’s beautiful out—not a single cloud in the sky. Kind of windy, too, a soft breeze whipping past my face as I tread farther into the yard toward Mari and a few of the girls at one of the tables.
“Oye!”
The sound of my voice whips her around, a broad smile drifting across her face. “Sup, putaaa,” she drawls, holding out a fist.
I bump mine against hers and swallow
