Go All Out

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1

Harlow Sweeting couldn’t have dreamt there would ever come a point in her life when she’d be accustomed to the sound of jail. Turned out three months was all it took.

The rules weren’t so bad. Well, most of them.

Throughout her childhood, rules were the norm. Her parents’ rules weren’t quite as stringent as the ones she had to follow in jail. It wasn’t like she’d grown up under lock and key or without a scrap of privacy. Although, her mom probably would’ve preferred it that way.

Six of the seven jail units housed male inmates; only one was meant for women. In total, there were around two hundred and fifty inmates meant to abide by the rules. Her included.

This facility was a change of scene. She’d started her tenure in a compound closer to the city where it was dirtier, more crowded, and scarier… Not that she’d ever let on about the last one.

Anyone who said jail wasn’t an intimidating place was lying. Living in government accommodations made for a tense experience, especially in the first few days. After a while, the routine became easier. Over time the inmates got used to newcomers and no one was ever “new” for long. The next batch of fresh meat was always just over the horizon.

Learning how not to make herself a target and how to keep her head down were priorities. Eventually, Harlow had formed some alliances. Friends would be too strong a word. No one could ever relax enough to trust anyone else’s story all the way. It paid to be wary. Being on guard was the only way to ensure staying alive.

The women in her current unit were still getting used to her, but she’d get there. Unfortunately, Harlow had nothing but time in this place.

After following the line on the floor, she and a bunch of other female inmates waited for the guard to open the door to the visitation room. The familiar jangle of keys and thud of locks was never as optimistic as when she was waiting to get into this room.

Visitation had been a difficult process; more so for those on the outside than her. Lena had never come; Harlow understood why. Her parents had visited. Rupert and Clyde as well. Her crew were the ones who got most perturbed if they couldn’t get in.

Everyone wanted an explanation.

Everyone, including the man currently waiting for her in the visitation hall.

It never mattered how many of the circular tables were occupied, Harlow always pinpointed Ryske like he was standing alone under a spotlight on a darkened stage. Others she might take a minute to notice, but him, she always saw straight away.

From across the room, they zeroed in on each other. Neither would blink. Whenever she was striding toward him, she would pretend they were in a nightclub, or at Floyd’s, anywhere except in jail. Under his all-consuming scrutiny, she’d bask in the fantasy for a few seconds. In those fleeting instants, she was a woman going to join a man, nothing else existed.

It never lasted. Someone would make a noise or there would be a smell that would remind her this was no dancehall.

Each inmate was allowed a maximum of two visits a week. Only two people were allowed at any one time. Hence why there were often conflicts to resolve. All of her crew had come to see her, including Bale. She enjoyed how the guys could make her forget with stories of their antics, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Licking her lips, Harlow anticipated Ryske’s hands before they slid onto either side of her face. They carried on into her hair beneath her ears, scooping her mouth up so he could kiss her as thoroughly as was allowed.

She scraped her nails on his shirt, letting them catch the neck to pull it down so she could make contact with his tattoo.

“Hey!” the guard against the wall five feet away called.

Ryske stepped back and opened his hands at the guy. “Every f*****g week.”

“Shh,” she said, pushing him down to the bench at his side of the table.

Once they were seated, they weren’t allowed back up again until the end of the visit. The most they could do was hold hands across the wide table. Harlow didn’t care that the seats were uncomfortable, or that she had to perch in a half crouch just to reach him, but she hated that they were so far apart.

“Bet that guy never gets any from his f*****g wife,” Ryske muttered over his shoulder.

She squeezed his hands. “Would you please stop trying to start fights with the guards who get to decide whether or not I get put into solitary?”

“You been a bad girl this week, baby?” he asked, dipping to kiss her knuckles, which made the guard clear his throat and Ryske growl. “What the hell problem does he have with me kissing your f*****g hands? He got a thing for you, baby, huh? I get it. You’re the hottest piece of a*s in this place, on the f*****g planet. He’s jealous. Well, she’s f*****g taken so—”

“Stop swearing, it’s not allowed,” she said, transferring her hand from inside his to on top so she could stroke his knuckles.

“It’s how I talk. Swearing is how I talk—”

“Crash,” she said. “I’ll get up and walk out of here if you don’t calm down. What’s wrong with you today? You haven’t been riled like this for weeks.” Not since the first visits he’d had to make to her behind bars. “What happened?”

“I talked to your lawyer,” he grumbled.

Understanding, she nodded. “She told you it’s going to be at least another six months until the trial,” Harlow said, lacing her fingers through his.

“Something about the prosecution gathering evidence. It’s f*****g nuts. They said they have you on video going in. That’s their evidence. That’s it. What do they need to gather about that? It’s a flimsy f*****g case and they know it.”

Harlow wished she could do more to calm him down. None of the truths they had to face were easy. “My blood is at the scene.”

“Because he hit you,” he said. Harlow tried to be subtle about sealing her mouth. “Or because it was there from when he held you prisoner?” Curling her lips into her mouth, she hated that they were back here again, and could tell from the way he grumbled that he wasn’t a fan either. “I don’t understand why you won’t talk.”

It broke her heart to see him so frustrated. “Baby, I’ve been telling you since the beginning of this…” Looking him square in the eye, she didn’t blink. “I’m going to be convicted of murder. You said it yourself, twenty years… That’s what we’re looking at.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. “You have to move on.”

“No.”

“Ryske, I love you. You know that I do. But I won’t let you keep coming here every week and doing this to yourself… It’s crazy… Please tell me the guys are saying the same thing. I talked to Dover and—”

“Yeah, stop f*****g doing that. It pisses all of us off.”

“Calling the bar?”

“Demanding we abandon you,” he stated.

Part of her wanted to remind him that they hadn’t hesitated to do that before. Except she didn’t want to be cruel when they’d all been so kind to her.

Ryske wasn’t a sulker; he didn’t pout. He was cocky and wasn’t great at hearing what he didn’t want to hear. He’d been like that since they met. Nothing about her going to jail had lessened his confidence.

“Bale told me he got his job back,” she said, trying to change the subject.

His scowl deepened. “You want to do that? Sit here and shoot the s**t like our entire f*****g lives aren’t circling the drain?”

She widened her smile. “Noon told me about Frida. She faked a pregnancy?” Harlow laughed. “That’s funny… I mean, I guess it’s not ha-ha funny, but a girl’s got to be desperate to get into the apartment if she goes to those lengths… None of you liked her?”

“Switching off reality isn’t so easy for me, Trink,” he said. “Guess you’ve got no f*****g clue what it does to me to see you in here.” He laid a hand on his chest. “My heart f*****g stops every time you walk through that door in that f*****g jumpsuit…” He looked away. “It should be me.”

“Hey,” she said, planting her feet on the floor to rise in a subtle crouch that gave her the reach to touch his face and bring his attention back to her. “That wouldn’t change anything… that would just put both of us here. We’ve talked about this. You can’t confess. You can’t. You weren’t even there.”

For a second, he looked into her. “But you were,” he said and snatched her hands closer. “Baby, you have to talk to me. You have to tell me what happened.” Shaking her head, she tried to retreat, but he just clung tighter. “What is it? What are you protecting? Who are you protecting? I don’t get what the f**k happened that would make you clam up like this. Everything to the cops was ‘no comment.’ You won’t even tell the lawyer what happened… She gave me the papers.”

That perked Harlow up. “The power of attorney and medical proxy stuff? Did you sign them?” He nodded. “I don’t have much in the way of assets, some jewelry, that’s about it. There’s some money in the bank and—”

“I don’t want your f*****g money.”

“I know that,” she said, sinking down to lay her temple on the table. “I know that, baby… Look at me, Crash.” Their hands were still linked, but she lay to the side, her head on the table, her smile spread wide. “I was dreaming about you last night… I woke up wet for you.”

She didn’t know if the guard heard the whisper, but Ryske did and that was all she cared about. “I’m supposed to cheer you up.”

“You do every night at lights out,” she said and sat up to pull their hands in her direction. “Ryske, I wouldn’t have gotten through this without you. You don’t know what our time together means to me. I’m just sorry I… I’m sorry I wasted so much of it.”

His mood was a little lighter, so he took a turn to be optimistic. “We’re going to have plenty of it after you get out of here.”

That statement only made her sigh. “I’m not getting out of here, Ryske,” she said. “When they sentence me, I could go anywhere. This place is already two hours from Floyd’s.”

“Forty-five minutes for Noon,” he said, making her smile. “Look, Trink, you can keep telling me to move on and to stop visiting. But I don’t care if I have to drive cross-country just to turn round and come back again to make it in time for next visiting. I’m going to keep coming for you.”

His eyelids began to sink and his lips curled. He was flirting with her and it was working.

“I don’t think I miss anything more than the taste of you,” she whispered. “The other girls talk about good coffee and chocolate cake… All I ever think about is you.”

“I’ll mail you some in your letters,” he said, but couldn’t hold in his own laugh. It got out even before hers did.

“Think you’d start a riot,” she said. “We women are pretty s*x-starved in here…” Harlow glanced around at the tables surrounding theirs. “They’ve noticed how many men come here to visit.”

“To visit you?”

She shrugged. “My mom’s been the only woman. She’s only come once. It’s too much for her… I understand that.”

Much as Harlow was sure of what she was doing, there was still a part of her that felt shame for disappointing her parents. “Marlowe still coming?”

She nodded, tracing her fingernail around the star on his wrist. “Less now than he did… I told him he’s off the hook for our deal. Don’t think it’s good for business to be associated with a murderess.”

“Told you I’d get you one way or another,” he said, gaining her attention. “By default… I’ll take it.”

“Crash… will you do something for me, baby?”

Narrowing one eye, he was sort of squinting at her, which made his suspicion obvious. “Last time you conned me with that, you told me to let you go. What do you want me to do?”

“Get laid,” she said. Ryske groaned. “Maze told me you haven’t been with anyone since me. Is that true?”

“I haven’t been with anyone except you since we met,” he said, pushing her arm up to show her stars. “And I won’t be with anyone until you’re out of here… Well, guess I should be honest, sometimes you do join me in the shower.”

“Tease,” she said and he winked. “That’s the last place we did it.”

“It is,” he said, taking her hand to his mouth. “Boy am I glad we did.”

“Sure, otherwise you might not have had the chance to change my mind about shower sex.”

“Told you, baby, you just needed the right guy.”

Sliding her hand away, she managed to get both from him and tucked them under the table. “And you need to get yourself the right girl… It’s not me, Ryske. I wish it could be, but… it’s not me.” His expression didn’t change. “Are you hearing me?”

“No,” he said. “I’m not listening to your waffling.”

“You’re an arrogant prick, you know that?”

Her question just fueled his confidence. “Damn right, baby. Just how much do you want me?” He leaned over the table. “Are your panties soaked through right now?”

It was amazing how he could tease her, and use that damn swagger of his to take her right out of this place. “I’m not wearing panties.”

The guard coughed at them. Ryske didn’t turn this time, but his eyes did rise like he was trying to temper his instinctive reaction to lash out or rage. “I don’t know how the f**k you deal with this place.”

“It’s easier when you’re not here,” she said. “I think you bring out the naughty in me.”

“That’s the hope, Trink.”

Letting herself take her hands from beneath the table, she slid them across to his again. “Remember the night we met?” she asked, opening her fingers at the same time he did.

Their palms stayed flat on the table, but their digits twined.

“Mm hmm.”

“I remember I was nervous to shake Maze’s hand after he told me you were criminals… Now all I dream about at night is riding his best friend raw… It’s amazing how far we’ve come, isn’t it?”

“As long as you’re talking about me, it is. Maze has a few best friends,” he said. The joke lingered without getting much of a laugh. Every second they spent together was one closer to saying goodbye. “You know, baby, we haven’t talked about this for a couple of weeks, but… If you’re gonna keep bringing up the getting laid thing, I’m gonna keep bringing up…”

“We’re not getting married,” she said, digging her nails into the back of his hand. “My goal is to make you forget about me and have a happy life… I can’t fake my death, so the best I can do is keep whining at you about it. Getting married would—”

“We’d get conjugals.”

The wiggle of his brows was either meant to tempt her or make her laugh, probably both. But Harlow had to be realistic and temper his expectations.

“People get married because they love each other and want to spend their lives together. Just so we can have s*x is not a reason. Besides, I’m a lifer. Lifers don’t get conjugals.”

He gritted his teeth in a prologue to the anger that made his nostrils flare. “You don’t know what you are. You’re here waiting for trial and I don’t have a f*****g clue why you’re not causing more s**t about being refused bail. You shouldn’t even f*****g be here!”

The last thing they needed was him being detained and tossed in a cell down the hall from hers.

“Hush,” she whispered. “Please, baby, just calm down. You know the judge was a friend of Hagan’s, that’s why he refused me bail.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed either,” he grumped.

“Hagan knew most of the judges and city officials. He had close relationships with all of them,” she said. “His charity work wasn’t altruistic.” Harlow let her fingertips trace the shape of his long, broad, incredibly talented fingers. “He deliberately donated to the city and departments within it because he never knew who he’d need in his pocket. It was all about favors, about people owing him. Hence how he got Gina to give me a week off, no questions asked… He had the ear of a lot of people…”

“How do you know all that?” She stopped tracing and talking and froze. “Trinket, how do you know that?”

She’d done so well to keep the details of that night hidden. Since the dramatic arrest outside Floyd’s, Ophelia hadn’t come to Harlow’s aid. The murderess hadn’t come to her at all. The female Hagan was the only other person who knew what happened on the night of the crime. So far, all of the evidence that law enforcement had gathered implicated Harlow. She was under no illusions about what the outcome of her trial would be. It seemed futile to drag anyone down with her.

Gathering herself, she attempted to uphold her façade of strength. “He told me.”

“He told you that,” Ryske said, peering into her. “The night it happened.” She nodded. He tightened his hold on her, probably sensing a c***k in her resolve to be silent. Maybe he saw this as his chance to wedge that c***k open. “Harlow, you can tell me anything. You do know that, don’t you? Anything, Trink. And if you tell me not to tell anyone, I won’t, even the guys. You before them.”

Harlow didn’t open her mouth for fear she’d say something else she shouldn’t. All she could attribute her carelessness to was exhaustion. It wasn’t easy to sleep in this place. Noise was constant. Sharing with others meant putting up with their habits too. All that was before she even got to how her own thoughts could keep her awake.

Eager hope made him squeeze and shake her hand, coaxing her. “Come on, baby. You were going to tell me. The night you were arrested, you were going to tell me everything.”

“I was.”

“What changed?”

Offering an explanation seemed like the least she could do. If he’d been this tight-lipped, she would be frustrated as well. It felt right to give him something.

“I didn’t know what to say to the cops. I was still trying to figure it out when they told me I’d been identified on the security camera going into the building. I was the only one on camera going to Hagan’s apartment that night. One of the cops at the station recognized me. I’d done some work with him when I was in family services… that’s why I was arrested so fast. They talked to family services, who said I had a connection to Floyd’s. They knew that because of how Felipe’s case played out.”

“Yeah,” he said, bobbing his head. “You told me this before.”

“They asked me why I went to Hagan’s.” He nodded, but it took her a minute to answer. “I couldn’t tell them… And I thought, if I couldn’t tell them that, then I couldn’t tell them anything else. I realized if I pulled on one thread that everything would come unraveled… for all of us.”

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Are you telling me that you’re taking the fifth to protect the crew?”

Licking her lips, she wished she could get closer to him. “If I tell them why I was there, it will open a can of worms.”

“You can tell me… You can tell me why you were there.”

His frustration was palpable. Ryske was right that she could tell him. Except, it didn’t matter that her trust in him was absolute. He didn’t deserve to shoulder her burden.

Sitting up straight, she considered him. “Crash, I swear, if I ever do get out of here, I will tell you everything. All the time. Always. No lies, just like you said.”

That made his nostrils flare in a show of irritation. “But you’re damn sure you won’t get out of here… They have the video. They have the blood spot… no fingerprints. No witness.” There was a witness, she’d just chosen to remain silent. Thinking about Ophelia always made Harlow’s adrenaline rise. She couldn’t show Ryske that, so she looked to the perimeter of the room instead. “Or not…”

The curious probing of his tone made her look back to him. “What?”

“I said no witness and you turned away… You think I don’t know you, Trink? I can read your tells.”

“You should think about the future,” she said, noticing the guard push away from the wall, which was a sure sign their time was coming to an end. “You should think about whether or not it’s smart to tie yourself to a girl who’ll never be in your bed again. I love you, Ryske. But we have no future. You have to do whatever it takes to come to terms with that.”

The buzzer rang and she rose in time with Ryske. They moved closer to each other. Without touching, each appreciated just being in proximity again. She would stand here for the rest of time and be happy with her sentence… if it didn’t mean damning him too.

Tipping her head back, she was drawn to his gaze. Harlow could feel him everywhere when he looked at her this way.

He brought his hand to the side of her head, his thumb tracked across her cheek. “I love you, Trinket… and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.” He touched her lower lip and she opened to lick the tip of his thumb. “Tease.”

Catching it between her teeth, she circled it with her tongue and closed her lips to suck it free. “You remember what it feels like on your c**k?”

The sly ascent of his lips gave him a feral air. “I sure do, baby. Not something a guy forgets in a hurry.”

Letting the back of her hand drift forward, she brushed her fingers across his fly.

“Sweeting!” a guard barked, startling her.

Ryske growled and caught her shoulders. “I have to go, Crash,” she said, grabbing him to pull him down for a kiss. “I love you.”

Turning to hurry back to the line with the others, she took her place in their ranks. For as long as she could, she watched him. He stayed put. Standing there. Watching her right back.

Other visitors were leaving, ignoring their inmates, but not her Crash.

Ryske’s eyes stayed on her until the last second. Just before she disappeared back into the corridor, he winked.

Harlow hated to think that she could be holding him back; that his life was on pause because of her. But she couldn’t stop reacting to him, couldn’t stop loving him, and she feared that would undo them both.