Freedom

Part 17: The Resolve

The Medical personnel on site didn't press any questions, nor did the guards bring in any formalities about what, where, why, and definitely did not ask "Who". The House knew what happened, and even the rumors were true about the sneaking in and out of each other's rooms.

The medical personnel gave her stitches, lamented that her "attacker" had done a number on her and that while the wound would heal, there would be some serious scar tissue. They released her into general population where she was met with interested stares, none of them horrified it disgusted—just interested. The only one who made talk of it was Sionis, who strode over to her.

"I heard you had a great time last night," he said, genuinely pleased. "Hopefully, he was gentle?"

Danica burst into laughter, bending over. She winced when her happy scratch stretched, pulling at the stitches. Sionis stared at her. She eased, looking at him.

"Gentle as could be, I guess," she gestured to her face. "What else was in the bag?"

Sionis shook his head,
"You wouldn't have liked it. I honestly thought he was going to kill you."

"What was in the bag?"

"Well, I had him a knife, a paddle, rope...a blow torch."

"A blow torch?" Danica exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah. I didn't know it was all for you. I thought he was making something in his room."

Danica shrugged. Thank God she liked the knife.

Jerome approached her from behind.

"Gorgeous."

Danica jumped and turned around. Jerome smiled, amused.
"Jumpy, aren't you?"
Danica shook it off.
"I'm fine."
"Come with me," Jerome grabbed her arm and pulled her to one of the benches.
"I was 'warned' that crawling into each other's beds is not allowed."
"I thought you didn't care about the rules," Danica reminded him. "Nobody is going to do anything about it."

"I'm as disappointed in this as you are, Danica; but they could still throw both of us into solitary confinement—different cells with heavy locks that you can't picklock, sweetie. Your talents go as far as petty theft."

Danica looked offended.

"Did you not see me kill five people a week ago?"

"Anybody can kill, babe; it's not exactly an impressive feat, and—kitten—you killed five inmates and an unarmed guard. It's not like you took on the FBI. Anyway—" he continued, "we will do the bed hop when the security dies down."

Danica frowned.

"You said you get what—"

He smacked her lightly across the cheek; not hard, but enough to shock her. She stared at him.
"Listen," Jerome said. "I like the fucking, I really do. But what is so fun about being stuck in a room by yourself for months on end? Is that something you want?"

"No—"

"That is what is exactly going to happen if you or I decide 'fuck this shit' and go through the vents."

There was a sounding alarm suddenly—new people. Danica looked over. Jerome's shoulder to see a beautiful, blonde woman in heels walk the hallway with guards. She indicated her to Jerome, where he turned to look over his shoulder.
"Barbara Kean," Danica said.