Bora Bora Bora

21: Cocaine

Nicky's POV

When I finish up in the SHU, I'm more than ready to get out of there. CO Brown let me out and I'm grateful when I see his face appear behind the bars, even though I've just met him today and we have spent a total of 2 minutes of time together.

"So, what now? Any other place in urgent need of mopping?" I ask as we walk through cell doors and halls.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but the shower stalls haven't been cleaned in a while."

"Fuck, man!" I say before I can stop myself.
I cringe, expecting him to yell or give me a shot, but he just looks at me apologetically.

"Rosario's been avoiding it for weeks. Surely she was waiting for a new work buddy to dump it on."

"Why isn't that surprising," I scoff.

I kinda want to ask what happened to her last work buddy, but I stop myself.
Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to and all that.

He walks me to the showers stalls and leaves me to do my job after muttering a shy "I'm sorry," and I realize this is first time I've heard a guard say those words to me.

I run my hand through my messy hair and look around, I haven't been here before. There are no doors or curtains in any of these shower stalls, which means everyone will be in full disclosure (not that everyone wasn't in full disclosure in Min, but at least that was a choice. Sorta.) For the first time, the idea of being in a room full of wet naked women makes me slightly uncomfortable. I hear Big Boo's voice inside my head, what she would say if she could hear what I'm thinking:
"God, Nichols, you're such a married woman."

And I would put my arm around Lorna, smile, plant a kiss on her cheek and say:
"Yes. I am."

I swallow back the tears. Maybe the best idea would be to take a quick shower now, that there's no one around. I could always clean up later.
I strip down and step into one of the shower stalls. I feel the goose bumps on my skin, the kind you get when it's the first you're naked in a new place. I turn on the shower and close my eyes as the hot water hits my face.

I like getting clean. I know most people wouldn't think so, because of my unkempt appearance and whatever, but just because I don't like brushing my hair doesn't mean I don't like washing it. I like feeling the water dripping of my skin, and I like pretending it can wash away more than I know it can.

I stand still for a while, letting the warmness spread over my sore muscles, smiling at the memories that come flooding over me. Like that morning a few weeks ago when Lorna surprised me in the shower. I can almost hear her light footsteps over the wet tiles, I can almost feel her hugging me from my behind, her soft lips on the back on my neck and her hands running along my hips...

Wait.

Memories don't feel so real.

My eyes shoot open, and I look down to see actual arms around my hips. I know who they belong to before I even turn around.

Penelope smiles her cocky smile, without taking her arms off me. She is completely naked, and I can see her clothes in a pile next to mine. At first I'm so shocked I can't even react.

"Hola, preciosa. I heard you here and I thought you might want some company."

Her lips crash against mine as her hands push my naked hips forward, and that makes me snap out of my shock. I turn my face and push her away.

"What the fuck, man?!" I yell, and bring my hand to my mouth, as if I could wipe the kiss away.

"Come on. Don't pretend you haven't been checking me out," she takes my hand and places it over her breast. For a single heartbeat I'm tempted to leave it there, and that only makes slap it away more furiously.

"Get out!! I am married!"

I push her slightly, but she doesn't seem to be discouraged. She stands in front of me, with that oh-so-seducing look in her eyes. There's something so malicious shining in them right now that I wonder how they could ever remind me of Lorna's.

"Please. Do you really believe that little wife is yours is gonna wait for you?"

"Yes. I do." I say, stepping backwards and turning the water off.

She throws her head back, scoffing, making her breasts shudder, and I can't stop my sight from dancing over the curves of her almost too perfect body, her wet long hair dripping over her hardened nipples, her flat stomach. And she notices it.

"Poor you," she says, "Hate to break it to you, honey, but she's probably already fucked every CO up the hill."

"Shut the fuck up!!" I scream, and try to walk out of the stall.

She stops me,grabbing me by the shoulders. She's a lot taller than me, and stronger than she looks.
She presses her cleavage against me, and lowers her voice, until it's as raspy and chilling as a serpent's hiss:
"You know you want me," she whispers against my skin.

I struggle to get away, but she tightens her grip.

"Now, don't you do that, Nichols. Even if you really don't want to do me, I can give you something in return you will definitely want to do."

I hadn't realized she had something in her hand until she holds it in front of my face. It's a little bag with white stuff in it.

Cocaine.

This bitch wants me to fuck her in exchange for drugs.

And, as drugs, usually do around me, they grow mouths and start to talk:

"Well hello there, Nicky...Long time no see. You look awful. But We can help with that...this nice lady here can help with that...all you have to do is let us."

My pupils expand to twice their size, and Penelope smiles, pleased with the effect she's having on me. She steps forward and touches my crotch with her free hand.

I look from the bag to her naked breasts again and again, and for a second I imagine myself reaching out and touching them, I imagine what it would be like to press my hips against hers, I imagine what it would be like to turn the water back on and pull her under it, I imagine what it would be like to give in and simply try to forget, I imagine her lips over my wet skin, water falling over our naked bodies, her long fingers caressing me, entering me, my mouth down on her...and I imagine taking the bag after it's over, I imagine my fingers shaking with excitement as they open it...

And then I see Lorna's face in the hallway, when I was being taken away. I see the tears running down her cheeks, and I wonder if she's ever stopped crying since I left. I see her dark, well-loved eyes, and I remember wishing that for once they just showed a little bit less, because the sadness in them was too much. I remember thinking they were losing a little bit of its light, and it was me who was stealing it, it was me who was taking it with me down the hill. And I hear her voice, asking me questions I would never know how to answer, and I remember her sobs, the only sound she ever makes that doesn't come out with an accent. Laughter might have accents, but crying doesn't. When we cry, we're all the same.

For the first time, I was the reason why Lorna cried.

I couldn't do this to her.

"You bitch," I spit at Penelope.

And then I throw my arm back and punch her. And no, I don't mean, open-handed bitch-slapping. I mean full on, all-your-strength-behind-it, closed-fist punching.

She falls on her naked butt, holding her bleeding nose.

"Hija de puta!" she shouts, but I'm already fleeing.