Part Ten: Get Me the Fuck Out of Here

Gallagher passed out. I stare at the wall in my cell not moving. Gallagher passed out. It was only a few hours ago, but I still can't process it. I had just returned to my cell block when I was pulled aside and told that the boy who came to see me passed out in the lobby and they wanted his name and a phone number of a family member they could call.

I only knew Lip's number. He helped me move some drugs. Gallagher passed out. My hands are shaking and I don't know why. I put my face in my hands to try to calm myself down. I can almost hear my heart thudding frantically in my chest.

"Your boyfriend came back," says Travon, giving me a shove. I don't respond. "I thought I warned you the first time what would happen if the little red head returned. You have to learn the hard way, Milkovich."

"Fuck off," I say.

Travon stands behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders. I slap his hands away. He tries to kiss me and I deck him. He gets up and pins me to the wall. His sheer size is enough to keep me at bay, that and the mental image of Gallagher passed out on a cold cement floor have taken away all my will to fight.

"Fuck me," says Travon. He gives me a shove.

"Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Is that what the pretty little red head will scream when I sneak into his house and force my cock in him when I get out of here next week? You better respond to me, bitch, or I will cut his pretty little freckled head off."

I bend Travon over the bottom bunk and try to give it to him. I can't. I just can't. Gallagher passed out. Before I know it, I'm the one bent over and Travon is pounding me. I close my eyes. I hope he's okay.

"This isn't fun, I like it more when you put up a fight," says Travon climbing off me. I pull my pants up and sit down on my bed.

"Milkovich," says a woman. She never comes in here. I immediately get up and walk up to the bars. "The brother of the boy who visited you today is on the phone. We're going to let you talk to him, but the call will be monitored."

They open my cell and I walk with them. They don't detain me. There is no reason to. I walk beside the woman; I think her name is Cindy. I don't really fucking care. I am led into a room with yellow painted walls and a desk in the corner with Cindy's name on it. I'm in her office. Cindy picks up the phone and speaks to Lip before handing it over to me.

"Lip," I squeak out. I cough to clear my throat.

"Mickey?"

"Who the fuck else would it be, asshole?"

"I wanted to let you know that Ian's okay. Thank you for giving them my number. Fiona would have thrown a fit and asked a million questions I know Ian doesn't want to answer. Thankfully, Steve doesn't really care so he never asked any. Ian's been under a lot of stress lately what with Monica trying to take Liam away and finding out he's not really Frank's and whatever the fuck happened between the two of you. Take care of yourself in there. Don't drop the soap. Later," says Lip.

I hold the phone in my hand before I hand it back to Cindy. She hands me a ball of some kind and tells me to squeeze it. I throw it against the fucking wall. "Could you move me away from Travon?" I ask.

"We'll put you with someone else tonight and sort it out tomorrow. Mickey, are you okay? Why don't you sit down and I'll get you some ice water while the boys make other arrangements for you?"

I sit in a chair in her office and stare at the wall. Gallagher passed out. But he's okay. He's stressed out. I didn't know it was that bad. He's always so happy.

"Do you want to talk about it? I can get someone in here," Cindy says.

"He's okay," I breathe out. My heart feels like it's about to climb out my chest.

"The cell is ready, ma'am," says one of the other guards. Cindy nods.

"Come on, Mickey," she says.

Once again I am not detained. I don't have the energy to fight with anyone. The boy they put me with is non-threatening. He's on the opposite side of the cell block as far from Travon as they could get me. I sit down on the bed, turn toward the wall and curl up in a ball.

Cindy sits the cup of ice water beside my bed and exits in my cell. I lie down, pull my blanket up to my chest and shut my eyes tight. I can't imagine what Gallagher is going through. It must be fucking hell for him.

Travon will not get to him. Fuck if I let that psychotic asshole anywhere near him.

I am rejuvenated in the morning. Gallagher still on my mind, but this time I don't fight it. I let his freckled face control my thoughts. I need the fucking motivation. In the cafeteria I confront Travon. I shove him against a wall and hold a plastic fork to his throat.

"If you lay another fucking finger on me I will jam this in your fucking eye. I ain't your bitch."

Travon tries to fight back, but I am overcome with incredible rage. I hold him to the wall with one hand. His size doesn't even matter. I hold the fork like a shiv ready to stab him if he doesn't cooperate with me.

"I am fucking serious. Oh, and you ain't my bitch either. You stay the fuck away from me and you stay away from the red head."

"Don't want to share his pretty little mouth?" Travon teases. I stab him in the throat with the fork and walk away.

"Milkovich's don't fucking share."