Ward adjusted his tie. “Good. Well, don’t forget I’ll be observing your session this morning. And anything you need, just come and see me.”
“I will, thank you.”
She walked past him, ignoring the way his eyes stayed on her chest a touch too long. His lecherous tendencies and his inability to view the inmates as anything other than scum rubbed Kat the wrong way. He didn’t see how the inmates could possibly better themselves while incarcerated, unknowingly making Kat’s job appear pointless. As a result, she avoided him as much as she could.
When Kat entered her classroom, she was grateful for the cooling breeze of the AC window unit. The rest of the facility was like a damned sauna. Twisting her hair off her neck, she turned when her teaching assistant, Rachel, entered looking flushed.
She blew a breath through her cherry-stained lips. “Christ, it’s hot as Hades today,” she complained, flapping her T-shirt in a futile attempt to cool down.
Rachel had been a lifesaver since Kat started. Qualified in assisting the inmates with learning difficulties, Rachel had helped Kat get to know her students quickly—especially Riley Moore, a colorfully large personality who suffered terribly from dyslexia. Not that it had stopped him from achieving a business degree from NYU.
Riley was one of her favorite students. Inside for dealing stolen car parts, his six-foot-three frame and broad shoulders would put Atlas to shame. He was funny and flirted with both women shamelessly. Unlike Ward, however, Riley was charming and uttered every word with his tongue firmly in his cheek. It was hard not to find his relentless yet harmless innuendos endearing, especially with his dancing hazel eyes and bearded cherubic face.
There were four other students in the class, all of whom worked hard and tried to keep themselves in check. Kat was more than a little proud at how quickly she’d brought them all to heel. Their progress had been fantastic.
At two minutes after nine, Riley’s booming voice broke the quiet. Kat grinned when she turned to see him, flanked by a guard, followed by her other students.
“Miss L!” he bellowed, holding up his hand for a high five, which Kat met with a small slap. “Good weekend?”
“It was lovely, Riley. Thank you. And yours?”
“Ah, you know.” He shrugged. “Causing shit here and there, making Ward’s hair recede more and more by the day.”
Kat repressed a snicker as Ward entered the classroom with her other students: Sam, Jason, Shaun, and Corey. Jason smiled meekly from under his floppy brown hair, while Corey and Shaun lifted their chins in greeting. Sam scurried to his desk and sat down without any gesture at all. At first this had bothered Kat, but now she accepted it as part of the routine they’d built up. A routine that, Rachel had explained, was paramount to the men in Kill. For many of them, a schedule was all they had to keep them sane.
Ignoring Ward at the back of her classroom, Kat began her lesson, reviewing their last session and asking the men to describe their favorite places by using metaphors and personification. They set about writing quietly.
“Okay,” she called, bringing the class’s attention back to her. “Who’s brave enough to read theirs out lou—”
The classroom door flew open so hard, it smacked into the wall behind it. A harassed-looking guard, breathing raggedly, stared at Ward, who shot to his feet.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir,” the guard gasped. “But we have a situation in room six.”
“Who?” Ward barked, storming across the room.
“Carter, sir.”
Ward’s eyes narrowed and his mouth snapped into a sharp line. When the door slammed shut behind him and the guard, Kat looked around the room.
“Carter?” she asked.
Riley laughed loudly, immediately clearing the tension Ward forever left in his wake. “Carter. Dammit. That boy never fuckin’ changes.”
3
“You’re not sleeping well, are you?” Ben, one of Kat’s closest yet most irritatingly observant friends smiled sadly as a waiter placed a triple espresso in front of her.
Even without the numerous yawns she’d been stifling all through dinner, Kat knew she looked like crap. Even Estée Lauder couldn’t hide the weariness around her eyes. Besides, he’d known her for six years and nothing got past him. “I tried,” she replied, shaking a packet of Sweet ’N Low.
“You’re still having nightmares?” Beth asked from her seat at Kat’s left. She and Kat had been friends since high school and, despite Beth only returning to New York a few months earlier after teaching in Texas for four years, they’d fallen back into their friendship easily.
It was nice to have her close again, completing their friendship trifecta, even if their constant worrying drove her near distraction. Kat knew they both meant well, but, along with her mother’s continuous anxieties about Kat’s job, it was becoming exhausting.
Ben shook his head. “You can always call me, you know?”
Like protective siblings, he and Beth frequently offered to stay the night when the nightmares hit, or offered the spare beds at their places, but she always declined.
“And wake you and Abby?” Kat asked with a lift of her shoulders. “Why would I call you?”
“Because we’re your friends and we care about you,” Beth said before spooning a large helping of crème brûlée into her mouth.
“Especially with this job,” Ben added.
Kat glared. “Don’t start.”
Ben held his hands up. “Who’s starting?”
Kat stirred her spoon around in her cup. “This job—”
“Is important to you—we know,” Beth interrupted. She was a little sharper around the edges than she’d been in high school, but her chestnut eyes and crazy cropped ash-blonde hair reaffirmed she was still the same girl Kat had known for years. “But we still worry.”
Ben rested a hand on Kat’s. “You have a lot coming up in the next few months.”
Kat dropped her gaze to the table.
“Your father’s anniversary isn’t far away. Just know that Abby and I are here, okay? We love you.”
“And I love you, too.” Beth grinned. “Even though Adam bought me a diamond, you’re still my number one, you know.” She wiggled the finger that held the gorgeous square-cut diamond engagement ring.
Kat tried to smile. “I know. Thank you both.”
Ben replied, “And remember, I’m a lawyer. If anyone in that place gives you a hard time, I’m your man. You know I could dig up shit on the pope if you needed me to.”
Beth and Kat laughed. It was probably true. Ben won most of his cases through sheer dogged determination, dirt digging, and favors. Like a hunting dog, he could sniff out scandal and blackmail at twenty paces.
“Hey, has your mom called?” Beth asked.
Kat exhaled hard. “Three times last night alone.”
Beth’s brow furrowed. “She called me, too. She’s worried, that’s all.”
Kat hummed sardonically. “Look, I know you’re Team Mom—”
“I’m not team anyone,” Beth countered. “I simply see where she’s coming from. It must be difficult for her.”
Kat huffed. “Difficult for her? She’s been on my case since I took this damned job. ‘It’s unsafe.’ ” She mimicked her mother’s tone. “ ‘I’m putting myself at risk working with those animals,’ blah, blah, blah.” Her shoulders slumped. “Why can’t she be supportive?”
“She means well,” Ben said. “She’ll come around.”
“Sure,” Kat replied, unconvinced.
* * *
Carter woke, having slept soundly; maybe he’d worn himself out plotting against Anthony Ward. He smiled. The motherfucker really had no idea who he was messing with.
He was to stay in his cell until four—two hours to go—which was when his twenty-four-hour punishment was over. For pushing a chair into a wall. What bullshit.
Maybe he’d pushed it a little harder than he should have, but his philosophy tutor had most definitely overreacted. And Ward? Well, he just knew all of Carter’s buttons to press.