Page 4 of Twisted Heathens
What the hell is this place?
The approaching building casts light across the manicured lawns. Passes checked, we’re guided to a warm reception area. The ceiling stretches upwards endlessly, with glimmering chandeliers adding to the luxury. I lose count of the paintings dotted around, along with stupid sculptures and other artefacts. Everything screams wealth and antiquity.
Is this a university, a prison or a fucking museum?
Paul smashes on the desk bell, sneering as he glances around the room. “It’s like a five-star hotel in here. Hardly fit for a criminal like yourself, Brooke.”
“Don’t worry. If you weren’t dropping me off, your shit poor ass would never see a place like this. Enjoy it while you can,” I quip back.
Sparing a quick look around, Paul tugs on the cuffs to bring me closer. When a hand cups my ass and squeezes, I fight the urge to shiver. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.
“No need to be rude. We might not see each other again, which is a shame. Even though you’re a drugged-up skank”—his lips brush my ear, breath wet and sticky—“you’ve still got a tight little pussy going for you.”
Hands clap together, startling him. I manage to pull my gaze from the ground, my cheeks flaming from the public humiliation.
“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?”
The receptionist looks between us, hazel eyes questioning. My gaze travels over his neatly styled blonde hair, crisp shirt with matching blue tie, and stylish black glasses.
“Nope. Just dropping off this troublemaker for you,” Paul replies smugly.
“I’m sure you can do that without touching her, hmm?”
Muttering under his breath, Paul takes a step back and reluctantly unlocks the painful cuffs. I rub my wrists, tilting my chin up in defiance.
“Bye then, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.” I smile.
A chuckle is smothered from behind the desk, but I don’t tear my eyes away. Not yet. Paul needs to remember me like this. Head held high, not trampled down by his need to break me. Nobody gets away with that anymore.
“See you in hell, sweetheart,” he spits, quickly signing the transfer papers and striding back out into the night without a second glance. Good fucking riddance.
“Well, that was unpleasant to say the least.” The receptionist laughs.
My attention turns back to him, standing there with a darn cute smile on his face. He’s cute in a boy-next-door kind of way. A little geeky for my tastes, but there’s something attractive about someone defending you, even when you don’t need the help. It’ll take a lot more than that to get a matching smile out of me though. I don’t do friendly very well.
“He’s like that,” I offer with a shrug.
“Sure. Guards tend to have a superiority complex, it comes with the authority.” He chuckles, adjusting his glasses absently. “Anyway, you got a name?”
Staring wordlessly, it takes me a minute to realise what he’s asking. Oh, right. Receptionist. Stop checking out how tight his shirt is. “It’s Brooklyn West. Transferring from Clearview,” I mutter.
He raises a pale blonde eyebrow, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Huh, not many people come from there. How’d you swing that?”
“Is it any of your business?”
“I guess not,” he concedes. “Hang on, I need to get the deputy warden to come check you over. He’s been expecting you. I’ll be right back.”
He disappears into the back office, leaving me to look around. I spot several guards standing in each corner. Their beady eyes are fixed on me, hands resting on discreetly placed batons. It’s unnerving but frankly, I wouldn’t expect anything less from a place like this. We’re just criminals to them. A faceless horde to boss around.
The receptionist shortly returns with an older man in tow. He’s dressed in an ugly tweed suit, greying hair slicked back and a portly belly hanging over his belt. I spy his ID and note the name ‘Mike Tramwell’ written next to a very unflattering picture.
“Brooklyn?” he asks tonelessly.
“In the flesh.”
“You’re late. We were expecting you this afternoon.”
“Don’t look at me, I just go when I’m told.” I shrug as he frowns at me. “Those goons from Clearview were the ones in charge of my transfer.”