The Trouble Legacy by E.R. Fallon & KJ Fallon

Author:E.R. Fallon & KJ Fallon [Fallon, E.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books

13

Stephanie came at her from behind, followed by Catherine, and the two women grabbed Camille by the arms. She kicked her legs in the air, trying to push the blonde off her. Catherine tossed the shank to the blonde woman, who held it at the very edge of Camille’s chin, taunting her.

“Still letting others do your dirty work for you?” Camille sneered at Catherine. “What’s the matter, Cathy,” she said, as Catherine flinched slightly, “can’t do the deed yourself?” Camille breathed heavily as she struggled to break free.

“Shut up, you fucking bitch,” Catherine said. “Cut her, Sharon. Slice this fucking bitch’s throat and do it fast,” she ordered the blonde woman.

Camille noticed a flicker of hesitation cross the woman’s face and figured she could use it to her advantage. She swung her legs at Sharon’s stomach, and the woman fell back onto the floor. The shank flew across the room and landed at the other side of them.

Stephanie, who seemed less experienced, released Camille’s arm, and Camille wriggled out of Catherine’s grasp, who couldn’t control her by herself. Camille hobbled out of the shower room and ran straight into the guard Neale outside.

From the satisfied, smug look on her face, Camille just knew that she had something to do with what just happened, but she couldn’t just go and accuse a guard. Neale had had it in for her from the very beginning.

“Have a nice shower, Garcia?” Neale said with a sinister grin on her round face.

Knowing sarcasm wouldn’t get her anywhere except something bad with the guard, Camille answered her, “It was fine.”

Neale looked at her for a moment, as if deciding whether she liked the answer, then said, “Go on. Hurry back to your cell. Be careful,” she added, “It can be dangerous around here.”

Camille wanted to tell the guard to go fuck herself, but at the same time, she knew that would only get her another night in solitary, so she trudged away with her head held high.

Halfway, a male guard she hadn’t seen before collected her and escorted her the remainder of the way to her cell. He opened her cell and let her inside, where Joy waited, looking out the pathetic excuse for a window, a small square that looked out onto the courtyard.

If she had been set up, it might have been Neale, or it could have been Joy. Camille waited until the guard shut the cell to remark to Joy, “You’ll never guess what just happened to me in the shower room.”

Joy turned around to look at her, and her expression wasn’t exactly a worried one, but it wasn’t entirely placid either.

“What?” the girl said.

“I almost got shanked by Catherine McCarthy and her friends.”

Joy shook her head, as though she thought that was terrible. “They didn’t hurt you, though, so that’s good.”

“No, they didn’t. There were three of them, but I’m not that easy to hurt. The thing is somebody must’ve set me up. Some people, that is, must’ve helped it happen.”

“What are you saying?” Joy said with a grimace.

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