Trish's teeth ground together as she
watched the women charging after Jennifer. Alvarez clamoured to her
feet, chasing after the group.
"Shit,
Maria is seriously - Hey! Where you goin'?!" Candice shouted after
Trish. She'd stood from the table and begun power walking away.
"I'll
be right back." Bullshit gang politics was not getting in the way this time. She walked to the canteen doors, slightly around the corner,
and then broke into a run. A tile shaking sprint. A frown etched into
her face, she raced after the group. She was not going to let this
happen.
They'd gotten quite a lead, but she tailed the wolves, closing the gap with each long
stride. She blew through groups of people in her pursuit, not caring who
saw. Quickly, she zoned in on Alvarez, the staggler. The one
that lagged behind the rest of the pack as easy prey since Jennifer had
winded her.
A
well timed shove sent her careening into a cell, swearing as she swung
in retaliation. Trish had hardly slowed, and was back at full speed in
no time.
She realised what Jennifer was planning as she caught up to the rest of the inmates. She was taking them to medbay. Clever.
She
slowed her pace, keeping a slight distance but ready to step in if they
did catch Jennifer. Fortunately, the white rabbit got away and guards
were barking at the four women. Trish came to a halt, heat coming off
of her as the well oiled machine cooled.
She turned to make her way back but found a sweaty, puffed out Alvarez blocking her path. "What the fuck was that, pendeja?"
Her skin crawled, the notion that she was surrounded, occurring to
her. The four women behind her were arguing with the guards but that
wouldn't last long. "My bad." Trish shrugged. "I was just trying to get
passed."
"Bullshit."
Alvarez said, holding the knife up. Trish's large frame together with
the women behind her blocked the threat from the view of the guards.
Trish
stood tall, putting her hands on her hips. Like some bird in a
dominance display, she made herself big. Even bigger than she was. While
Alvarez was sweating,
breathing heavy and bruised from two separate women, Trish looked like
the run had been a brisk walk. She loomed larger than life, filling the
hallway. "Really wanna try that, bitch?"
The
rumours about what Vásquez had done to the aryans were still fresh and
the idea that Trish could wipe the floor with people like that played on
the woman's mind. Her eyes darted up and down the statuesque form in
front of her and then to the guards.
She
hid the blade. "This ain't over." Alvarez said, disgruntled, stepping
aside to let Trish pass. Trish strutted passed her smugly, chin high,
purposefully displaying zero fear of a surprise attack. She'd learnt
early on in life that if you act like prey, you become prey.
Her
path crossed with Candice after some time. The more spherical woman had
tried to chase
after her friend but her robust physique didn't lend itself to a sprint.
She was still regaining her breath. "Gurl.... What the.... Fuck." A
suppressed laugh slipped out of Trish.
"I'm sorry, Candy. I just couldn't watch them do that shit to Jennifer like that."
"Mhhhhmmmm?"
There was a lot of judgement in that noise. "You mean you couldn't let
them do that to your girl?" Trish rolled her eyes.
"It's not-"
"Trish M. Hunter, don't you lie to me."
That resulted in a long, slow blink. "Did you just middle initial me?"
"I wanted you to know I mean business."
"Fine.
Whatever. 'My girl' then." There were finger quotations around the
words. Trish honestly didn't mind Candice knowing about their
relationship. In fact, it felt better having someone in the know.
She'd play it off as a joke, but knew better than trying to pull the
wool over Candice's eyes. She already knew.
"Well,
seeing how things are going, you might have to fight for your girl
soon." A growing fatigue was filling Trish. All anyone ever talked about
with her was her growth, encouraging it and, fighting the other gangs.
There was a direct, inverse relationship between discussing it and her
motivation to do it.
Recently, she felt more like a tool and less like a person. The gang used to mean something to her. Friends. A sisterhood.
Support. G37 had sucked that away, or in the very least, masked it
completely. It left a bittersweet feeling in her. She was amazed by what
the compound could do, but despised what it took away with it. At this
point she just wanted to be done with the trial.
Candice's
grin lifted some of the darkness. "Shit, why
didn't you tell me you found yourself someone to vent with? Y'know, vent
with." Her eyebrows wriggled the second time she said vent.
"It's kinda complicated." Trish admitted as the two strolled through the prison. "C'mon, I wanna go talk to someone."
Candice
followed, nodding. "Complicated is an understatement, honey. You've got
to deal with the big bad wolf to get to your girl."
"I know.
That psycho has her claws in her and now all the Lobos are after her
too." It felt good finally saying some of this out loud. Trish scanned
the empty cells.
"Who are we lookin' for?"
"Jessica."
Candice's eyes narrowed. "She's on laundry today. Why are you looking for her?"
"Just
need to check something." Trish said, keeping things vague. Candice was
smart enough not to push further. Trish would tell her when the time
was right.
They
delved deeper into the prison, going down into the basement level where
the laundry detail was placed. Rows and rows of huge machines jostled
and rumbled together in a chorus of cleaning. Trish and her portly
partner in crime walked through the women sorting and cleaning
clothes.
There was no sign of Jessica. However, they did catch
sight of a firey mane of hair, plaited into a long braid. "Yo, Rachel.
Where's Jessica?" Trish already knew the answer, walking into the quiet
corner of the laundry room. The quiet corner with a closet.
Rachel
was sat on a chair, hunched over a phone she shouldn't have.
"She's in there - Wait, don't go in!" As soon as Rachel had thrust a
thumb over her shoulder Trish had breezed passed to open the door. She
knew what Jessica would be doing in there. Not who with.
Inside
Jessica was half naked, ravishing a guard who was literally drowning in
cream coloured curves. Her red overalls were down to her knees, a black
vest yanked down to leave her breasts in the humid air of the tiny
space. The guard had his trousers down under his ass, shirt open and
chest bare. He looked to match
Jessica's 6'3 but was being overwhelmed by her, definetly not steering
the
sexual encounter.
Her flushed face turned to the doorway,
"wha-what the fuck, Rachel!?" The redhead fell off of her chair in a bid
to close the door. Trish couldn't even make out which guard it was
ensnared in Jessica. Fingers gripped her pale ass, holding a thigh
against the guard's waist. Their crotches were mashed together, Jessica
pounding him into the wall while he weakly thrust back. A single breast
smothered his face
completely, keeping his upper body glued there too.
When
Jessica leaned backwards to grab the door handle Trish and Candice
finally identified the guard. The door slammed in their faces. The two
women looked to each other, both slack jawed. A crimson faced Rachel
ushered them away, grumbling about how she was going to be in the shit.
There
was a pregnant pause as Trish and Candice stood in the laundry room,
background white noise a comfort. "Fucking Jackson?" Candice finally
broke the silence.
"I
knooooow! " Trish gushed back, laughing. "Of all the fucking guards....
Hey, I think you should get out of here. Jessica is gonna be pissed at
me."
Candice
winced. "Yeah, fuck that. I'm out. Holla if you survive." Candice shook
her head as she waddled away. A final, disbelief laced "Jackson?!" Was
heard by Trish over the machines.
It
was only a few minutes later when the man himself walked passed, shirt
missing a few buttons, a dishevelled air about him. He kept his cap low
over his eyes. "Bye, lover boy." Trish sang as he walked away. The quip
had made him jump just slightly. She wasn't sure if she should be happy
for him or feel bad for him. Jessica had been fucking him into
oblivion. And every passed day meant she'd be fucking him even harder
into oblivion.
She
picked her way back through the laundry room, towards Rachel and the
closet. Jessica was wringing her out like a teacher scolding a student. "You call that guarding the
door? Man, I'm gonna tell Selina not to give you anymore burners. What
were you even doing?" The pale woman shouted, seeming gargantuan over her seated friend.
"I was playing candy crush! You got me standing guard all the time, I need something to do!"
Trish cleared her throat and the two bikers stopped arguing. "What do you want?" Jessica asked.
"Well, I thought interrupting you getting it on would be funny, but I mainly came to ask some questions. Firstly, Jackson?"
"Oh,
I'm sorry, it's not like we've got a buffet of fuckin' men to choose
from." Jessica replied theatrically.
"Fuck,
you pretty much are using the guards as a buffet." Rachel scoffed.
Jessica shot daggers with her eyes but the redhead looked far too proud
with herself to be phased.
"Aight,
next fuckin' question." Jessica addressed Trish, moving her hands one
over the other, trying to speed this whole ordeal up.
Trish
looked down to Rachel. "It's kinda sensitive." A more serious tone
descended on the trio. Jessica's annoyed sarcasm dropped. She rolled her
tongue along the inside of her cheek as she gauged what to do.
"Rach, adults need to chat, go take a lap." Rachel
looked from one red clad woman to the other tutted and then got off of
her stool.
"That shit's not funny." She said, looking miniscule between the two six foot plus women.
"It's kinda funny." Trish smiled down at Rachel. They waited a moment for her to leave.
"What's this about, Trish?"
Trish
strolled over and took a seat on the stool. She worded the question in
her head before she finally spoke. "Would you ever fight Vásquez?"
Jessica hadn't expected that and her face showed it. "Um, no. I like not being dead."
"What if it was both of us against her?"
Now Jessica looked bamboozled. "Trish, where are you going with this?"
"Everything
is getting tense because of this medical trial. The aryans are getting
fucked.
Lobos are pushing on every edge. Things are going to hit a boiling point
soon. Our gangs our tight, and the way they're treating us... I think
we're gonna have to deal with Vásquez."
Jessica whistled. The
words resonated. She knew exactly what Trish was talking about. The way
people were reacting to her, the tension in the prison... "Shit, for
things to get that crazy it's gonna take something big. You wanna be
that spark?"
Trish
clenched her jaw, thinking about Jennifer stuck with Vásquez in medbay.
That's where they'd have taken her, right? Only dark thoughts came to
mind. "Yeah, maybe I do."
"Well,
I don't want to be that spark." Jessica shook her head, crossing her
arms and propping up her massive bust further. "But if things do get crazy ." She sighed. "You know the niners got your back. I've got your back."
The
extra clarification made Trish break into a
smile, white teeth dazzling against her darker complexion. "Yeah. I
thought so." That was true but she still felt relieved hearing it.
"What's going on with you guys and the aryans?"
A laugh bubbled up. "Shit. Just waiting and watching, right
now. They've stopped running drugs in block B and a few of them got
moved to block A. Even Amber is there."
"Yeah, not many of them left in block B. They're on their last legs."
Jessica
tilted her head a notch. "I wouldn't say that. They've always
been snakes. Even if you cut off the head, they'll still bite. They're not dead. Not by a long shot." She
was right. Trish filed away the idea to keep an eye out for them, just
in case.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I've had a super busy few weeks and the next chapter for week 5 is going to be a big one. I didn't want to have another week with nothing though, so I've written up a short interlude to fill in some gaps.
It builds some plot but no growth or anything! Sorry!