He turned back to Whiteside, and threw out his hands in a pleading, defensive gesture, and shouted loudly, “Please! No! Please!”
“What?”
Bunny surged forward and lunged for Whiteside’s legs. Instinctively, the man tried to kick out. Bunny grabbed his right foot and pulled it into his own face. From a distance, it was a vicious kick to the jaw.
“Help!” screamed Bunny.
Somewhere, the first notes of an alarm rang out.
He glanced up to see Whiteside looking around, searching for somewhere to plead his case. Bunny managed to shift his weight and gripped him behind the knees, so that Whiteside fell messily on top of him.
From that camera angle, fighting off an attacker and actually grabbing their hands would look remarkably similar. Bunny rolled around, forcing Whiteside’s hands around his throat while doing all he could to continue to look like an innocent victim. His “opponent” looked down at him, confusion all over his face.
Bunny smiled and whispered, “I’m afraid I’m setting you up again, Shitty.”
By the time the guards reached them, the ruse was no longer necessary. Whiteside had snapped and was putting all his efforts into strangling the life out of Bunny. So much so that it was a great relief when Whiteside was cracked on the back of the head with a baton.
As people rushed around him, Bunny turned over and threw up a little of what was definitely not gravy as far as he was concerned. “He … He tried to kill me.”
Bunny looked up to see Commander Blake towering over him, as three other COs wrestled Whiteside to the ground and dragged him away.
Bunny lay there, gasping for air.
Say it. Come on, say it.
“Whiteside – you’ve got five days in the hole.”
Whiteside’s response was muffled. A headlock will make sure of that.
Blake looked down at Bunny and then turned to speak to someone else. “As for this dipshit …”
Bunny looked up to see Cuts standing at the front of the crowd of inmates, who were looking rather disappointed at how little entertainment there’d turned out to be.
“Cuts, you’re supposed to be keeping him out of trouble.”
This was met with a pained expression and a shrug.
“Pick him up and get him to the infirmary. We’ll talk about this later.”
Bunny watched as Whiteside was led away and the crowd dispersed, leaving just him and Cuts standing there.
“Goddammit, are you on some kind of charm offensive?”
Bunny coughed to clear his throat.
“Something like that.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dionne stood before the big screen and waited. Her left ankle hurt like hell from where she had fallen awkwardly. The couch was directly behind her, but she decided against taking a seat. This was not going to be that kind of call. Nobody wanted to face a firing squad sitting down with an ice-pack on their ankle, regardless of how much they needed it.
The screen flashed for a moment and then it was filled with Sister Dorothy, sitting behind her desk and looking disappointed in the way only she could.
“Hello, Sister Dionne. Good to see you are more or less in one piece.”
She left a pause – one Dionne did not attempt to fill.
“Have you nothing to say for yourself?”
“I thought I wasn’t here to talk, just to be talked to.”
Dorothy leaned forward. “Do you think now is really the time to start giving me attitude?”
“Don’t talk to me like a teenager,” said Dionne.
“Then stop acting like one.”
“You had me followed,” countered Dionne.
“Yes.”
“And you were monitoring my communications.”
“Yes.”
“So much for me being in charge of this operation.”
“The time for you to get upset about that is not after your fellow Sisters have had to save you from arrest, when your irresponsible actions put this operation – and them – in grave danger.”
“I would have been fine,” said Dionne.
“Oh, please.”
“I was handling it. It is possible, you know? I can still stay in control of things here and deal with a personal issue.”
“Indeed,” said Dorothy. “Did you realise that while you were away, dealing with this ‘issue’, that McGarry was attacked by another prisoner?”
Dionne was blindsided. “What?”
“Yes. He appears to be fine, more or less. I have enacted the emergency communication protocol in your absence.” Dorothy shook her head. “I cannot believe how reckless you have been. I blame myself. This was a bad idea.”
“If you didn’t trust me,” snapped Dionne, “then why was I put in charge in the first place?”
“Because I had no other choice. I hoped you were ready, but I knew going back to Nevada would be difficult for you. Although I must admit, I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“Fine,” said Dionne. “Put someone else in charge. I’m out of here.”
There was a pregnant pause before Dorothy spoke. “What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“So this is it? After all these years, after all that we’ve been through, you’re done?”
“I’m done.”
There was a part of Dionne that couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. She wasn’t thinking straight, she knew that, and yet there it was. She hadn’t felt comfortable since Dorothy had anointed her as the leader-in-waiting of the order, and suddenly she was free of it. It felt liberating.
“I see,” said Dorothy. “I’ll need some time to get Sister Katherine back from Spain so that she can take over, and then you’re free to go.”
“Fine,” said Dionne. “I’ll work out the week. Get her here as soon as you can, then I’ll bring her up to speed and …”
“And what?” said Dorothy.
“I honestly don’t know what comes after that.”
Dionne took a seat on the couch and winced as pain shot up her left leg.
“Are you OK?”
“I’ll be fine,” said Dionne. She used her good foot to pull the coffee table close enough for her to rest the injured one on it. When she spoke next, the anger had gone from her voice. “I really am sorry.”
Dorothy softened her tone too. “Can I ask what was this about?”
“Don’t you know?”
“I would rather hear it from you.”
Dionne
