Prison Chic #1st book of the Chics series (EDITING)

Chapter 12

Joanna woke up suddenly at the bang on the bars. She cursed softly turning her head toward the door; Kevin was standing there, his black wooden stick in his hand. “Cage. Lunch.” He called out and she winced at his loud voice. “Alright. I’m up.” She propped herself up from the bed and started claiming down the ladder, all the while rubbing her eyes. Kevin was still standing at the door, waiting for her. She got out of the cell, passing by him and started walking toward the stairs. “You sleep a lot. Troubles with your roommate at night.” He asked from behind her.

She looked back at him when she realized he was speaking with her. “No, not exactly.” She decided to say. “Are you sick? You eating well?” Kevin continued his questions. Joanna was stunned, he sounded like he cared. WOW. “No, I’m fine. I just don’t sleep well at night that’s all.”

“Why?” Kevin asked. Okay, that was getting annoying.

“It’s non of your business.” She shouted, turning her head back. Joanna knew it was rude of her, but she wasn’t in the mood today. Kevin remained silent. Damn it, now she felt worse.

“The roof.” She decided to say.

 “The roof?” Kevin repeated.

“Yeah. It.. It’s so close.”

“Close?” he replied again, rising his brows up in question. Joanna wanted to plummet the large guard to the ground.

“Yes, it’s too close. It makes me feel trapped, suffocated.” She bellowed at the man, waving her hands above her, administrating the closure.

Kevin kept silent for a minute and Joanna was thankful for that. It didn’t last for long because after a few moments he said, “So, you are claustrophobic?”

Joanna stopped to a halt a few paces prior to the food hall gate. “It’s not like I can help it!” she said, annoyed, trying to defend herself. She hated feeling week, and that was her weakest point. Kevin looked at her for a moment. “I I’m not Judging.” He said, calmly. “You should talk about this on your next anger management circle. It’s today isn’t it?” He said before turning back to leave. The hell I would, she thought.

 “Hey!” she called after him, and he looked back at her. “I need to reach mark.” She told him. “I need to speak with him.”

Kevin nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” He told her and started walking toward the opposite direction.

“You are barely eating.” Hank told her after swallowing his last rice. She looked down at her half full plate. “I’m full.” She lied. The truth was she didn’t feel hungry because she was eyeing the old tall man on the far table at the end of the hall.

“so how long has Big Aldo been here for.” She asked casually. “Oh, umm.” Hank scratched his forehead as if by doing so the information will pop up. “well, he was here before me. So more than five ore six years.” He concluded.

She forked her food not really aiming for anything. “And.. Do you know when he’ll leave?” she asked, not looking up to see his face. “I think I’ve heard someone say…” he started and Joanna thought hard, don’t be on February, please don’t be on February.

“I think it would be late on February.” He finally said and Joanna heart sank down, at least that what it felt like. “This was suppose to be kept a secret until February”, this was what Dominic _the man she beat up that night in the alley_ said to that poor man who died that night. February. So there was no coincident. This Big Aldo was the Big Aldo those men were talking about that night. How could Mark miss such a detail. She looked up again at that far table just to look down again, because he was looking back at her. Did he suspect? Better yet, did he knew?