Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [137]
Jorge swung his cuffed hands and kicked and tried to bite the officers. One circled behind him and wrapped a spit mask around his face while the others each grabbed a limb and the one with the shield drove him to the back of the cell.
When Jorge hit the bed, he crumpled to the floor with the shield and the officer atop him, but still he thrashed and screamed and grunted. Someone rolled in a gurney, and he was soon strapped down, legs also shackled.
“Subject transported to isolation,” the videographer said.
Thomas pressed his lips together. When would he learn to read these men? He could easily have been the victim of the initial assault, but who could have predicted it?
And why did Frank LeRoy think Thomas wanted to see this? Just because he had chatted with Jorge at the prisoner’s request? Or was Yanno still trying to educate him? Thomas figured he’d been in the system long enough to understand that these things happened. He guessed the warden would always consider him the new guy, even after all these years.
Thomas emerged and gave Gladys the tape.
“He wants to see you,” she said.
“Jorge? In isolation? He knows better.”
“When he gets out.”
“When will that be?”
“Who knows? This will be the end of any hope for parole for him. Ever.”
“Well, let me know. I’ll talk to him. As long as there’s a window between us.”
“I heard that.”
Serenity Halfway House
Brady began to live for Thursdays, when the outsiders came in for group therapy. Katie North would rush from the van and straight into his arms, though they kept their embraces short and friendly so they would appear simply like old friends. Bill and Jan both seemed encouraged by Brady’s rekindling an acquaintance. Brady was hoping for a whole lot more than that.
Katie seemed to make sure to sit next to Brady, and they whispered asides and winked at each other throughout every group session.
One Thursday she leaned close and said in his ear, “I have a gift for you, but it’s contraband.”
Brady didn’t want to even wonder if it was something unhealthy. Surely she could see he was doing well. He had kicked every addiction except nicotine and was determined to stay straight. For the first time in ages he felt hope that he could really turn his life around. He didn’t ever want to go back to the joint, of course, but the truth was, there were people he wanted to impress. Bill and Jan, to start with. His aunt and uncle too, though he wearied of their efforts to get him to their church and to introduce him to their friend. Even his mother. He didn’t care if he ever saw her again, but something in him wanted her to hear—at least secondhand—that he was succeeding.
But at the top of his list?
Katie. He knew himself well. She would be worth throwing over the whole reforming thing. In a flash.
She had become all he could think about. She looked better, smelled better, sounded better every time he saw her. There was a hint of danger about her, and she hadn’t hidden her interest in him. And Brady was sure she was as committed to sobriety as he was. He’d seen enough people strung out to know that she seemed clean. And if she wasn’t? Well, with her, he was open to anything.
As people milled about chatting, waiting to board the van, she said softly, “Don’t let anybody see you take this.”
They talked and joked and locked eyes, but she also kept glancing at the Serenity staff. Suddenly she reached into her pocket and then shook his hand. “Get it out of sight right away. I have it set on vibrate. Just don’t get caught with it.”
A cell phone.
“Do they search you, Brady?”
“Not anymore.”
“Still, you’d better keep it hidden in your room. Call me when you’re alone. We can even text each other.”
“Listen, I’ve never used a cell phone. I don’t know the first thing about—”
“Hmm, I never thought of that. I’ll send you a manual. Do they go through your mail?”
“No.”
“I’ll