"He's all yours, Mace."
The room spins around me as Bridges stands and I slowly process these life-changing words.
This can't be happening so quickly; Mace hasn't even agreed to anything!
I look from the intimidating Mace to the asshole Lieutenant and back again, eyes wide and probably looking as hysterical as I feel.
"That's it?" I choke out, disbelieving. "Just hot potato me around like unwanted property and call it a day?"
Bridges' dark look is full of warning; I give him the sourest face I can make, and he finally replies in a low, measured tone. "Exactly what kind of hand-holding do you still need?"
Beside me, Mace is reaching for another smoke from the carton.
"Let's see," I start, throwing up my fingers as I count my problems, "I don't know anything about Mace, or Third Block, or what exactly the plan is for saving my ass…?"
I'm ninety-nine percent positive that if Mace wasn't sitting beside me, the fucking lunatic Lieutenant would have thrown me to the ground by now. He has this twitch in his eye and this nostril flaring that reveals everything going on in his mind.
"You'll have all the time in the world to discuss those details back in your cell," the Lieutenant hisses, dripping with implication that he's already wasted enough time on me today.
"Kid's got a point," Mace interjects. A rush of budding affection sweeps over me as Mace backs me up. His long curls fall into his eyes as he takes another drag of his second cig, then he gestures to me with his smoking hand as he exhales. "We need a plan for Third Block. I can trust Knuckle, yeah—Domino, sure—but that's at best."
Lieutenant Bridges groans impatiently, throwing a glance towards the cigarettes and debating if there's time to light up again. "I went to a lot of trouble filling a unit without rapists for you, Mace… and now you're telling me you don't trust them?"
Huh?
Mace kicks his foot up onto the table angrily, grabbing for the smokes before Bridges. "I trusted some," he growls, voice cryptic with meaning, "before you threw in those two."
"What about the showers?" I interrupt. It's become one of my biggest concerns and I won't be shamed for wanting it addressed.
"I'd be making your special schedule right now if you both weren't holding me up," Bridges snaps. "I'm dedicating a four guard rotation. I'm going to put Ox in line. Fucking all you have to do Mace is watch the kid four hours a day."
Lieutenant Bridges has a temper without the nicotine. His face is red with frustration as he adjusts his uniform and avoids looking at either of us.
I know I've fallen into his realm as a burden, and he probably has a lot of work already, but fuck him. Fucking prick. Fucking-tantrum-having-throws-people-to-the-floor-prick!
"What's the babysitting pay these days?" Mace asks, interrupting my thoughts and giving a knowing smile at the look of loathing I'm not even trying to hide. I get a sense that he has also been thrown to the ground by this dirtbag Lieutenant.
"Five cartons a day, split them how you'd like," Lieutenant Bridges offers, still with that snappy, hurrying tone.
"Six," Mace offers, wiggling the carton he's swiped and smiling through his next words. "One for the kid's allowance."
I doubt I'll ever see this carton, but I'm fine with Mace exploiting the Lieutenant for it. I feel a strange sense of relief that there's a plan.
Four guards, and a personal bodyguard? That's sounding safe.
Lieutenant Bridges walks to the door of the room and gestures we follow him with an air of finality. "Seven," he counters Mace's offer, locking eyes with me, "if you keep him out of my sight."