Behind the Gate Read online

  Thankfully, no great cereal mystery or boxer brief covered ass is greeting me when I walk into the kitchen. I think well shit maybe he's getting it, then I remember he's 8 and he ain’t getting shit about keeping himself covered. I think that walking around in your underwear is some unwritten boy rule in life. Ingrained in them when they are young, his daddy used to do it as well. My dad, before he passed, used to always tell me when Jack was a baby that a man always comes to the table with no hat, and fully clothed. I smile to myself thinking about my dad and how much I miss him. He passed away when Jack was almost 2 from a massive stroke. I always try to make sure that Jack knows about his grand-daddy because that man was amazing.

  After taking Jack to school and heading to work, I get through the gates just fine until, “Olivia, I won’t open the next door if you don’t go out with me, so please, put a man out of his misery and go out with me!” Josh pleads. I can’t help but smile at his ruthless ways.

  “When are you thinking Josh?” Since I can’t see him, I stare directly at the camera knowing he can see me. “Wanna go to dinner after work?” the excitement is evident in his voice.

  “Let me know where and what time and I will meet you there.” Even though Josh has met Jack, he hasn’t met Jack as my date. That’s a whole different ball game, I don’t let potential love interests into my kid’s life, but shit, I need to get some sex before my vagina drops off and runs away from me. It has been way too long, and I might be a little desperate.

  While I am laughing to myself because seriously my mind is way too funny, the next door buzzes open. Making my way around and into the medical building Mary tells me that I’m handling med pass and sick call in housing A and the lockdown units.

  With a sigh, I load up my cart, get my gear on which is heavy and hot as hell, and make my way to block A. I reach the guards “hub” and sign in.

  “Hey O, gotta wait, still shower time for a few of them, “Benton/Burton or whatever his name is tells me. He is on this block today with some guard who looks like he is about to shit himself; must be new. This prison rotates guards around the whole facility constantly, it is a safeguard that Warden Rhonda has put into place to try to combat smuggling and coercion.

  I just smile and nod, it’s been a while since I have been on this block. At the beginning of each cell block row is a shower, it is tiny, like can’t turn around properly small, and the smell that comes from those showers is almost blinding. It’s not like in those movies where it’s a room full of dudes and someone drops the soap. Although the sex does happen here, it’s mainly cellmates, because it’s too hard to do it with anyone else when they are locked up for 23 hours a day. The yard which has the inmates that are close to going home, or not on lockdown has the communal showers. Still isn’t the ‘drop the soap’ kind of room, it’s just a row of 5 showers separated by curtains but still somewhat open.

  Anyways, I have to wait. So standing there listening to Burton (that’s what I am gonna go with because I think that’s it, but oh well) tell the new kid how something works. I realize that he is explaining about sick call. Sick call is for the prisoners in segregation like this, seeing them at the medical center is too hard. These guys are the worst of the worst, the kind that it takes special precautions to just bring them medicine, let alone see them at the medical building. So how sick call works is, the prisoner will put a piece of paper with their request under their door. At the beginning of each shift, the guards on each corridor will collect the request the deliver them to Med Unit so we know who we are treating that day In the prison system, we have physicians that come during the day, but it’s only 1 doctor and 1 dentist. So the nurses treat the inmates that are not “emergent.” Unless we are stumped on something, we tell them what they will be prescribed once the next round of meds come around. We can prescribe, but the doc has to review and sign off first. Just the way it has to be with a couple thousand inmates to 1 doctor.

  I feel eyes on me before I have a chance to look up and instantly my mouth goes dry and my heart begins to flutter. I look up and it’s the inmate from Friday that has invaded my dreams at night, staring right at me. The man who has made me inch my fingers down my panties a few times this past weekend. The man who looks larger than life, bigger than all the other guards, is being escorted to his cell in nothing but a towel. What I wouldn’t give to be that scrap of terry cloth right now. I feel my face set on fire like I am a match that was just struck. Once I look at him, I know that if he is still staring at me, that it will be written all over my face that I was just checking him out

  Shit! I'm standing here in a towel and sandals when I see the cute little nurse from the other day. She is swamped by a flak jacket and spit shield, but for some odd reason it looks adorably cute. She's so short that it almost looks like a little girl playing dress up. But there is no mistaking it, the only thing that makes her look little is her height, the rest of her is all woman. My dick instantly goes hard, I'm glad that I am clutching the knot in the front to keep the towel closed, it kind of hides the fact that my dick could break a rock right now. I'm stuck in this shithole with guys who are turning to other guys just to get off. No offense but no thank you. I like being able to grab a woman's tits and sink my dick into a warm, wet pussy, or slap my dick up against a woman's clit, I may not know all their names, but I remember every face that I have left satisfied. Or if I don’t remember them, they certainly let me know they remember me. But this girl, ever since I first laid eyes on her this bitch hasn’t left my mind, making it hard for me to concentrate on anything else.

  But I see that I affect her just as much as she does me. She sees me and wears a beautiful, deep blush that creeps down her slender neck. I can’t help but let that stroke my ego. She’s so tiny though that I would break her in half, she wouldn’t know what had hit her, and she would just fall apart into a blissful mess after I got done with her. Too bad I find myself in this situation because I would love to if given the chance. Plus it’s been about a week since I got some pussy, and to me, that is a week too long. Some call me a bastard, some call me a whore, but the good thing is the bitches still call me. But now I am hard up and I’m trying to make the best of it, but I want to murder my bitch of a cell mate.

  Xavier is a grade A tool, scumbag of all scumbags. Believe me when I say this, the world would be a much better place without this asshole taking up space. Even though he hasn’t said shit to me, he sure talks a fucking lot. It's obvious he has done time before, because he knows the prison codes and the dirty guards. He has funneled at least 20 kites out of here just this weekend alone. Kites are nothing more than just little notes, most of the time written very small, so that they can fit more on the piece of paper. Then they are thrown out into the hall like a kite. I know he has people working for him, employees of the prison and inmates.

  My attention is brought back to the moment when I hear one of the guards say, “Okay, Olivia, that was the last of the monkeys.”

  The guards can talk to us anyway they please, so far they have left me alone. Must be my size or the fact that I have barely grunted two words to these assholes since being here. But I can’t bring myself to be mad about it because now I know a first name. Olivia, hmmm, that name is very suitable for her. I bet she even goes by Livvy or some shortened version of her name.

  Making my way into my cell, I hurry up and get dressed in my prison issue scrubs that however many men before me have worn because I want to see more of her as she walks by. I wonder why she has picked a job like this because it’s too dangerous for someone as pretty as she is. When you picture a prison nurse, you picture Nurse Ratched, not this cute little thing with the big brown eyes and dimples. She doesn’t deserve to know the horrors that are this place. Yes, she has made it obvious that she can take care of herself, but still, it would be a fucking shame to break something so light.

  “Alright, bitches med time!” That one dick guard yells out. We all knew this already with half the guys hanging in their little windows,
we just want to get a look at one of the few ladies we might see while we are here. Trying not to let that thought bring the black cloud back over my head, I just think of getting my hands on her. Being able to see how responsive she really is, to see her come apart from my hands. The wheels clink and rattle unevenly against the cement floor as she pushes the cart down the corridor, breaking me from my daydream of her.

  “Bitch is gonna learn don’t nobody fuck with me. Gonna show her ass what the fuck is up. Stupid whore,” Xavier mumbles from his bunk, his voice deep and strained. I realize then he’s jerking his dick and a sick feeling of dread settles over me. He’s about to fuck with her, I already know it. I can’t let that happen. I know I don’t take any medication, so unless he does then she will bypass us, I haven’t paid attention these past couple of days because of the amount of people who stop to talk to him. Please, God, let her bypass us.

  Finished playing with his one inch wonder, Xavier climbs out of his bunk and walks to the cell window. All we have is a little rectangular window facing out of our cell and a slot for food to be slipped in. He has what I can only suspect is nut in his cupped hand.

  As the door opens, the guard instructs me to keep my ass on the bed. He tells Xavier something about needing some medicine for high blood pressure or some shit, but first she has to take his blood pressure. Just as I’m getting ready to say something to her, she walks right in and over to Xavier. It’s like one of those moments of slow motion. I get up to stop him, and as soon as my foot hits the floor Xavier comes straight for her, and smears what is in his hand. But he didn’t expect her to be wearing a riot helmet with a spit shield. So he wastes his spunk on a piece of plastic. Dumbass, serves the little piece of shit right. This only enrages him more, and it takes both guards to start pulling him away.

  She jumps out of the way when he smears it on her face mask, and she kicks out and connects with his shin. Xavier grabs his leg, bouncing on his one good foot while the guards are pulling at him to get him away.

  “Stupid bitch! I'm gonna enjoy killing you slowly! Then I’m gonna go after your momma and your kid. Yeah, whore, I know all about you. Got no man to take care of you, bastard son, and it's gonna feel real good when I finally get to fuck that ass. Hell, I might make your ass watch as I kill both of them and watch as their blood is on your hands!”

  She looks shaken up, her eyes glisten as tears threaten to spill over, and this odd ripping feeling in my chest takes place. Makes it hard to breathe, like a fucking elephant is sitting on me. I start rubbing between my pecs to get some relief but nothing. Is this a heart attack? I don’t know what's wrong, inside I am panicking but hoping on the outside I don’t look like shit is bothering me. If I drop dead right here, then all of this shit will be for nothing.

  Holy shit! That fucker just smeared cum on me. Well, my helmet but fuck it’s been a while since we have had someone go after us, and this makes it twice now that this particular inmate has come after me. This guy scares me and when I hear his words, a chill runs up and down my spine because I know if given the opportunity, he would follow through. I'm terrified but trying not to let it show. The fear is gripping me, my spine feels like it is frozen solid with the chills having gone up and down them. Funny how my back is cold but in this mask I have sweat dripping into my eyes. I would give anything to take it off, but I can’t with his spunk on the front mask. So I just school my features while my insides go to war between hot and cold.

  Burton and the new guard didn’t do shit except try to restrain Xavier. The only one that looks affected in all of this is his cell mate. Now that I’ve had a better look I see it’s Damian. This time, he has his prison- issued scrub pants on. Fuck him too, fuck all four of them.

  Excusing myself, I leave the cell and walk down the block to the guard station to clean my mask. I pull on some clean gloves. I still have a job to do, so after drying my mask and washing my hands I head back to their cell. Burton tells the new guard to cuff Damian so that he is restrained while Burton lays Xavier down on what I assume is Damian’s bed. They have since hog tied him while I was cleaning my mask. I finally get his blood pressure and then hand the guards the meds. Other than the occasional insulin or bp check, we don’t give the inmates their meds directly, we hand off to the guard, who in turn hands them to the inmate.

  After the catastrophe that was med pass is done, I finally make it back to the clinic. Josh is standing there waiting for me. Great, just what I need, him fussing over me.

  “I just fucking heard, are you ok?” He yells as he looks me over. The feeling I have with Josh is not like the feeling I have with that fuckwad in building A. Where Damian is all fire, Josh is like seeing an ex-boyfriend that you have stayed friends with. No feelings except you hope they have a good day. I guess this doesn’t bode well for Josh or my vagina. I assure him that I’m fine and that yes, after changing and showering, we will still go to dinner tonight.

  Leaving work is a big ole mess, because I have to fill out an incident report over the Xavier incident, which puts me late getting home. Our prison has their own police force that will investigate and report to the warden. I’ve met the warden a few times, she's a nice lady, but I hear that once you cross Rhonda you will wish you were dead. She certainly has the capabilities to make your life hell. I guess being a woman in her high profile position means she has to be that way to survive it. So I keep my head down and my nose clean, she has no reason to talk to me, and I don’t have one to return the favor.

  Jack wondered why I was so late and why Grandma was hanging around. I told him that I was going out with a friend for dinner, and I would be back to tuck him into bed.

  “Who is the friend, Mom?” A strange look passes over his face. Not a look of curiosity but seems like a look of longing.

  “A friend from work, why ya asking kiddo?”

  “A boy or girl? Where ya going? Do I know them?”

  “It’s Josh, and we are just going to dinner. You remember Josh right?”

  He nods, but the look of longing has kind of transformed. Could it be that Jack is craving to have a man in his life too? I file that away to talk to Mom about later. For now I gotta scoot so I’m not late. I am not a late kind of person, I would rather be way early than on time, and to be late? Being late to me is tantamount to lying. Of course things happen that are unforeseeable, but if you tell me you will be somewhere at a certain time, be there at that time or you're lying.

  Dinner with Josh is rather uneventful, it’s like going out with a friend. No spark, no chemistry, just a peck on the cheek before I get in my car. He looks a little wounded, but promises that he’s ok. I consider Josh a friend, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I just don’t see this going anywhere. I want passion and fire, and with Josh it just feels like eating vanilla ice cream with nothing else forever.

  Jack’s playing video games when I get home, his hair still damp from his shower. So I just sit next to him and watch, thinking back of when he was an itty bitty and I held him so tight in my arms. Makes me wish I had another baby, but that lack of a man makes it impossible. One day, maybe. I’m still young, and I think Jack would be ok with a baby brother or sister to play with.

  “Stop staring at me, Momma, it’s rude!”

  “Not staring, just looking at you and how handsome you have become. Do you ever wish you had a brother or sister?” I ask cautiously.

  “Nope, I like it being just us. Wish sometimes I had someone to play catch with because, Mom, you throw like a girl, and I call you butter fingers.” Well ok then. There goes my NFL dreams.

  Shortly after, I settle Jack into bed, kiss his little head and leave his room thinking about what he said. I wish I could find a man that would play catch with him and teach him all the boy things that he needs to know. Mom and I try, but I know how hard it is for him. I feel the same way too, I want him to have those things. I want someone for me, so I don’t go to bed lonely every night. These are the small times when I miss Jack’s dad, but I know deep
down that we are better off without him. Unfortunately nobody has come into our lives that I have deemed worthy of being a dad to my son.

  Getting up for work in the morning, I let out a huge sigh. I spent all night last night tossing and turning, replaying what Jack said and staring down a pair of blue eyes. I can’t seem to get Damian out of my mind, I mean seriously? Why am I lusting after an inmate? I can’t believe I didn’t look at what he did, or as all the other inmates tell me “allegedly” did. Normally I look right off the bat, because hello, I gotta protect myself. I can only chalk it up to his hypnotizing eyes and the earlier drama with Xavier. I make a mental note to pull up his file from our computer system and look up what he did and how much time he has to serve. Then once I see maybe that will curb my attraction to him. Don’t get me wrong, there are guys who are cute or hot that come to prison. Then you look at what heinous things they did and all cuteness goes out the window.

  I lie awake at night thinking about her. She invades my dreams, but it’s almost like a nightmare. I have nowhere to turn because she is always there. A nightmare because I cannot touch her. A nightmare because I know that I can never have her. After watching in horror at what Xavier did, I noticed that even though she had a face shield smeared in cum, she never cried, she looked a little shaken up. When she came back from cleaning up she showed zero emotion, she must be used to it, even though that’s incredibly disturbing. These guys take any chance that they can to act out or to show their asses for the few ladies that they see.