Dark Destiny by Avelyn Paige

StoneFace

Yard timein jail is hard to come by most days. Everyone gets a bit of time outside seven days a week, but my schedule has been so busy with Buddy and the animal rehabilitation program, I rarely get to enjoy it.

This is the first time in almost a month I’ve stepped foot outside the inner walls of the prison. The yard itself isn’t much to brag on. A grassy area that’s mostly trampled on and covered in cigarette butts. A paved area around two net-less basketball hoops that hang from matching rusty looking metal poles. There are two picnic tables and a row of benches along the side of the fenced area. Above us, guards wander a walkway atop the brick wall, their eyes scanning every detail of our brief encounter with the great outdoors, and each other.

The fresh air feels amazing as it fills my lungs. I could lie out here, soaking up the sun’s rays for hours, but there’s another reason I came out here today.

Scanning every single face in the crowd, my eyes search for Henry Tucker. It had been almost a year since I’d laid eyes on him, but you never forget the face of the man who had nearly destroyed the lives of people you love.

Henry Tucker is a bad man. Very bad. And the fact that his black heart still beats needs to be rectified immediately.

And then I see him.

Across the yard, his back leaning against the brick wall, Tucker scans the crowd as well. Guys like him don’t do too good in jail. This might be a place full of criminals, but woman beaters and child molesters are just as much outcasts here as they are on the outside.

Henry Tucker is both those things.

Standing, I double check the small of my back, reassuring myself that the shiv I’d gotten from the inmate as a gift from Judge is still there. The guards are true sentinels, their eyes never wavering from the yard below them.

“Wanna play basketball?” Buddy asks, coming up to me with a ball with barely any air in it.

I peel my eyes away from Tucker, just long enough to address my friend. “Not today, Buddy. Just want to enjoy the sunshine.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice filled with disappointment.

Normally, I would feel kind of bad for rejecting him, but right now, all I can think about is how the fuck I’m gonna pull this off without being caught?

I can’t get caught, not for this. I still have Elscher to take care of. After both of these motherfuckers are gone, I don’t care what the hell happens to me, but it can’t happen until I get them both.

One at a time, asshole.

Cool and collected, I walk along the side of the yard, my brain churning with different ways to do this.

And then it happens.

I don’t hear the argument that starts it all, and I don’t know either of the men involved. All I know is that one black guy throws a killer punch, hitting a large white guy square in the jaw. The white guy goes soaring through the air and lands on his ass, bouncing twice before jumping to his feet and back in the fight.

That’s all it takes. Suddenly, everyone in the yard is fighting. The sound of flesh on flesh and groans of exertion, followed by roars of pain and anger fill the air.

The guards are on their loudspeakers, but I don’t pause to listen. Instead, my head whips around to locate Buddy. He’s right where I’d left him, looking shocked, but standing far enough away from the melee to be safe. Just where I want him.

In a move so fast, I know the cameras won’t catch it, I snatch the shiv from the back of my pants and palm it in a way that conceals it behind my arm.

Making my way toward Henry Tucker, I knock out anyone that comes at me. One punch and they’re down, no exceptions.

And then I’m there. I want to tell him it’s about to happen. I want to tell him this is for Lindsey and her unborn baby. For his own kids, who he’d traumatized nearly beyond repair. I want to watch the life drain from his eyes as he realizes exactly who I am and what I’ve done.

But there’s no time. The cameras are watching. The guards are coming.

Grabbing Tucker by the shoulder, I whip him around until we’re nose to nose.

Recognition flashes in his eyes, quickly followed by fear.

With lightning-fast strikes, I slam the shiv into his torso once, twice, three times. His mouth opens in shock, but no sound comes out. At least not one I can hear amongst the commotion.

I stab at him six more times, then one for good measure. That tenth one is when I stop, pulling away, leaving the shiv exactly where it belongs, deep inside the belly of the beast.

Tucker falls to the ground, his eyes wide with terror, his heart pumping the last of his life’s blood out onto the patchy grass.

I don’t stick around long enough to find out what happens next. Instead, I throw myself back into the fray, throwing elbows and fists, making sure to allow a few to land on me as well. There’s no question in my mind that Henry Tucker is dead, and I need an alibi.

By the time the whistles are blowing, guards are storming into the yard in full riot gear, tear gas filling the space, causing my eyes to water and burn.

“On the ground!” they scream. All of them are shouting, all of them sounding equal parts angry and nervous. I don’t blame them. Pissed off inmates outnumber them by about ten to one, but most of us obey.

I don’t argue or put up a fight. I drop to my knees, put my hands behind my head, and lay down on my belly as instructed. I stay that way for several minutes as everyone around me argues with the guards, pleading their innocence.

Any second now, they’re gonna discover Tucker’s body.

And that, my friends, is fucking justice.