Chapter 10: Shocking Shower

Shaye

It's been nearly a full day since I spoke with my cellmate in the cafeteria and I'm no closer to finding out who knows about the underground passageway.

In truth, I'm wasting my time and maybe the whole find a stronger protector is futile. Maybe I'm meant to remain as the lowest-ranked inmate in this hellhole.

Beside me, a girl lets out a giggle and I eye her warily.

"What's so funny?" I whisper and I tense, half of me expecting her to lash out at me.

"Shower day." She bounces on her toes. "Every couple of days we get to wash all over rather than just in the sinks."

"No shit?" Damn, hot water and soap sounds like heaven. I can stop smelling gross. I follow the line of women into a massive shower room. Nozzles are every several feet, but no doors or walls separate the showers, but I don't even care.

I follow the other women who disrobe and set their dirty prison uniforms in a bin. Carefully, I walk to an empty showerhead, then jump when water guzzles out. It's not as hot as I hoped, barely lukewarm, but I'd take freezing water if I have to at this point.

A metal button below the nozzle has soap/shampoo etched across the surface. I push it and liquid flows out. Of course, a prison wouldn't want inmates getting their hands on a bar of soap that could be turned into a weapon of some kind. I lather my body and my hair, then rinse because I have no idea how long before they shut the water off. I can see them doing that just to fuck with us.

To my left, the clang of a door has me blinking shampoo out of my eyes. Rows of naked men march across the other side of the showers.

I gulp, backing up. Have I taken too long getting clean?

"Watch it, bitch." A woman shoves me away from her.

I stumble forward, back to my spot. "Sorry," I mumble.

A few of the men move to the women on our side of the showers, touching and kissing them. I press my back to the metal column, my water pouring over me. My arm lashes over my breasts, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed. Would they expect to fondle me too? I swallow down the bile that burns the back of my throat.

I have to get out of here.

I push away from the shower, dodging a girl who is giving a guy a handjob, and head to the towel sign when someone laughs behind me. I don't care, I keep marching into the room where two other women are grabbing fresh towels. I rush inside to find a metal shelving rack against the back wall, filled with clean towels. I snatch one, feeling relief to wrap something around me. I have no idea why that girl in the cafeteria was excited about the shower. I never want to experience that again. Now, where the hell are new clothes in this place? I don't want to return to my cell in just a towel. I head out of the towel room and back in the shower hall when I spot someone carrying folded fresh orange and black clothes. They just emerged from an adjacent room.

I practically run there.

Inside that small room is a similar shelf with piles of jumpsuits, orange pants and black tank tops. I reach for the pants and top and fumble through them for my size. The last outfit I got rode up my ass so hard it was painful. I need something my size now.

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I flinch out of instinct. Everything at this place wants to kill me. Pressing the clothes under my arm, I spin and walk out, my head low.

"What's the rush, angel?" a guy says.

I roll my eyes at his lame pick up line.

I lift my gaze to the man standing in the doorway, a shoulder leaning against the frame, arms folded over his chest.

"Look I'm not interes-" When my eyes find his face, I freeze. My feet stop working and my mouth falls open. It takes a bit for my brain to start working again. No, I must be seeing things. Except the guy standing in front of me doesn't vanish.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The words fall from my lips unprompted.

My heart thumps wildly against my ribcage.

"Surprise." He chuckles like this whole thing is an entertainment park for him.

But me, I want to die. My insides are squeezing tight, and all I can think of is remembering how to breathe.

"What...why...shit!" I can't string two words together. My heart is cracking open, the sound shuddering in my ears.

Except, I can't do this, can't be here. I want the world to open up and swallow me. This can't be happening.

Tears are already pooling in my eyes. I lower my chin and run right past him, brushing against him. I don't stop.

"Angel," he calls out after me.

But I'm running, needing to air to breathe before I pass out.

No. No. No.

This can't be fucking happening.