It was 1AM when Rick slowly approached Myers' cell. He was going to unchain the killer. It was clear none of his colleagues had dared to do so and Rick could understand why. Myers had tried on Ryan's life just hours before. But Rick didn't think it was right or fair to leave him chained while locked in his cell. All the same, he felt a slight chill run down his spine. But no. He was fine, he was sure of it. Safe. Michael had saved his life after all. He could see The Shape standing at his cell bars, looking straight at him. The first time Rick had seen him, he'd been looking up towards Danielle Hayward's cell. Damn. How the hell had Myers known he was there? Rick took a deep breath, stopping a few steps away, out of reach.
"Hi Michael," he said softly. The Shape didn't move a muscle, but his eyes remained on Rick's face. "I want to say it to your face. Thanks for… For saving my life."
Of course, silence. Rick felt himself swallow. God Michael Myers made him nervous, along with everyone else. It was no wonder he was one of the most highly feared men in… Hell the world. But Rick knew he had to do this. He had to show the killer he could trust him. He owed him that much at least.
"Michael, I want to remove your chains for you. If I come in and approach you, are I safe?"
Nothing. Not a twitch. Rick wanted to use his judgement, given what Myers had done for him but… But still… His hands went to his neck automatically. That'd been close. Very close. The fact he'd saved his life aside, if Myers still needed to kill, he would be as good as committing suicide. Should he do this? Yes, but alone?
Rick was just reaching for his radio, deciding that he wanted backup just in case, when he could've sworn Myers nodded to him. Just once, an ever so slight movement of his head. But Rick saw it. Do you want to die? He thought as he stepped towards Myers' cell. He was trusting the masked killer's word. Suicide! Shouted his mind. Yet, he slowly reached up, pressing the button to open the killer's door.
"Hey Ricky!" Chancer yelled from next door. "You obviously want to die after all! Come here, I'll do it for you, with pleasure! Myers has had his fair share of kills!"
Rick ignored the slimy little worm and stepped into Myers' cell. He had to be professional, but his hatred towards Derek Chancer was coursing through him. Fucker had tried to kill him, and he almost succeeded. Myers had saved his life. Another killer? One who had much more of a right to be feared than Chancer? This was… Was…
Rick slowly stepped through the door, pressing the button on his belt to close it again. If Myers chose to attack him now… Stepping towards the killer, he produced the small key and began to unchain him. Before he could stop, Rick found himself speaking softly.
"What happened Michael? Adam's phone call? Is that why you attacked Ryan? He's a good guy, one of my best friends. Shame you couldn't attack Derek over there instead. Fucker." Nothing. But Rick continued speaking softly as he removed the killer's chains. "Please don't go for him a second time?" He pleaded with the killer. "He's a great guy! Believe me, I'm seriously tempted to… Well, let's just say make a mistake so you and Chancer end up in the same goddam cell. I don't think anyone would be sorry to see him go. He wouldn't stand… Well, a chance against you and we know it."
Glancing into Michael's face, Rick was sure he saw something in his eyes. But what? A hint of softness? Sadness? Longing? Rick's heart clenched for the other man. A killer he may be, but it was obvious to Rick that he truly cared about Hayward, just not to what extent. Before he'd realised it, he'd touched Myers' arm. Myers didn't pull back. "Caring about someone is not a crime," he murmured, now kneeling to remove the leg chains. "I'm all for it and will help you in any way I can."
As he stood again, he saw Myers' eyes fixed on his face. This time though, Rick didn't shiver. Instead, he looked up and back at the killer. "I hope you enjoyed the chocolates." Again, he was sure he saw that very slight nod. "You're welcome," Rick gave the killer a small smile. "I can't thank you enough for what you did that day. They told me it was you who carried me out to the ambulance. Seriously man, I thank you with all my heart. If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead now, and I have… Reasons to live."
Myers glanced briefly out of the cell, towards where Joanne was standing talking to Danielle. Somehow, he knew. Rick smiled at him again and nodded. "Yep," he said softly. "I love her, Michael. Just as you love her. Don't resist it, but try to calm your killing crave? It's only for her safety that she's not with you and she misses you, it's obvious. We'll reunite you as soon as we can. I promise you. I can see she needs you just by looking at her. I know you have the urge to kill, but try and attack the bad guys, ok?"
Now Rick did make to move towards the door, but this time Myers put a hand on his arm, stopping him. It wasn't a hard grip, so Rick wasn't afraid. It seemed that somehow, he and Michael Myers had a mutual bond of trust. Well duh! Shouted his mind. He only saved your fucking life Evans! That kind of thing will do that whether you want it to or not! He turned and this time their eyes locked. Their gaze was intense, unwavering. Myers didn't remove his hand from Rick's arm. "What is it?" Rick said softly to the killer.
Myers extended his free hand. For just a second, Rick did feel a flash of fear. Was Myers about to grab his throat after all? But Myers' hand made no move towards his neck. Rick looked at him unsure, then very slowly he extended his own until it took the killers.
It was then Rick Evans believed he was probably the second to understand what Michael Myers was saying to him, albeit without words. The killer's hand was warm, strong but gentle, and Rick inexplicably felt tears build in his eyes. He blinked fast and felt Myers' hand tighten in his.
Michael Myers was telling him, that he Rick Evans, was and would forever be safe from his killing rage. Without releasing his hand or taking the other off the guard's arm, Myers looked out towards Joanne and Rick nodded, now feeling a single tear slip from his eye. Joanne too, was safe.
"Thank you," Rick breathed, his voice shaking a little as he wiped a sleeve across his face. "Thank you so much Michael. Can I tell her?" That single nod again. "I…" Rick looked at the killer, with tears still in his eyes. "I owe you my life Mr. Myers. Ironic, huh?" He laughed shakily. Rick's legs suddenly felt weak. Myers turned him effortlessly, as Rick's legs gave way and landed on Myers' bed.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Rick tried to stand, but he felt as if all his strength was gone. Myers moved silently to his side and again rested a hand on his arm. The other handed Rick a glass of water. Rick could hardly believe what was happening between them, right at this moment. "Thanks," he said gratefully, hearing that his voice was shaking, he took a long sip. The water was ice cold and felt amazing as it slid down his throat.
He knew without a doubt, he was trusting Michael Myers and did. He'd trust him for life now, Rick knew it. While the name Michael Myers may bring fear to the hearts of others when spoken, it wouldn't for him, Joanne, or Danielle. He may be the guard here, but right then he felt as weak as a kitten. But Myers made no move whatsoever to attack him or grab any of his equipment. He simply stood there, his hand on Rick's arm, while the guard regained his composure.
"I was fucking terrified," Rick said softly. As soon as he spoke, Myers knelt beside him. "That day. I honestly thought Chancer was going to kill me. I was sure my time was up; I was going to die. I'd never be able to tell Joanne that I love her or do anything else I wanted in my life. I want to move up the ladder here. Marry Joanne, have kids, run a marathon, you know all that stuff. I was thinking about what it'd be like to show my son how to play football, or my daughter to do… Well, you know, what girls love," he smiled shakily. "I was sure all that was gone, that I was a dead man. To this day I don't know exactly how it happened, they said you knocked him out? He's worse than you Mr. Myers, trust me…"
Myers squeezed his arm and Rick looked at him. "Michael?" He said quietly. The killer squeezed it again. "Ok, Michael," Rick smiled at him genuinely this time. "He's worse than you, Michael. Trust me. He only targets women, or at least he did and he's an evil antagonistic bastard! They say you don't have a conscience, a heart. Whatever! Could've fooled me! You do, one just must reach it by respecting you, not treating you with contempt. I… I understand why they might not want to respect a killer, but if you risk it then you'll find Michael Myers is a pretty decent guy…" Had Myers just smiled back at him? Rick felt his breath catch. He was sure no one had ever seen that before, hell he wasn't even sure he had.
Eventually, Rick stood up. He felt fine now. He smiled at the killer when Myers didn't remove his hand, then turned him around towards the door.
"Thanks," Rick murmured. "Can I get you anything," he hesitated for just a second. "Michael? Coffee?" Again, a slight nod.
"Coming up," Rick said. "Just remember," he knew he really was trusting the masked killer when he lent forward to whisper in Myers' ear. "I'm in your debt. I owe you, my life. If I can do anything for you, anything, just ask me. Catch my drift?" Buzzing opens the door, Rick Evans left Michael Myers' cell, knowing things between them had just changed forever. He trusted and even liked the killer. A coffee was the very least he could give him in thanks for his life.
…
Three days later
"Needs to kill."
Derek Chancer jolted awake. Damn. He'd done it again. Left the iPod on with the headphones in and had fallen asleep. If he was honest, he was sure the listening device worked all the time and the "I'm listening" so-called button just pinged Leach's inbox so he knew he was working. Son of a bitch. Quickly, he forced himself to concentrate. Raising the iPod towards her cell, he hit the button and focused in on her voice. She was whispering, but with the technology now in his possession, she might as well have been shouting.
"I can feel it I think," Hayward was saying. "When he needs to kill. It scares me like you wouldn't believe. Yet… I miss him."
"Which is no crime," Joanne Turner said. Chancer snickered behind his hand. Ah, women. How he'd love to fuck and kill them both… He forced himself to listen.
"Is there any chance I could speak to him at least?"
"Stand by," Turner said before walking away.
Chancer lowered the iPod and let out a long breath. Shit. This was getting more and more dangerous. If Michael Myers cared for her, Derek Chancer would be a dead man if he wasn't very, very careful. Once again, he considered stopping right there. Not for Hayward, he didn't give a damn about her, but for himself. Look out for number one, his mother had always said. By God she was right.
A few minutes later, Joanne returned. "Sorry," she said. "We need two guards right now and no one else is available, but we'll do it for you as soon as we can ok?"
Chancer shivered. He'd want a hell of a lot more than two guards with him if he had to go near Michael Myers. Ten, perhaps? Lying back on his bed, Derek Chancer again reconsidered his position. This was fucking suicide! Yet…
The money. Chancer couldn't deny he could use it, perhaps to buy even more tools for his operating table. He smirked at that thought. He could think of a lot of things he could do to the women he captured, if he just had the money to do it. Well, if he pulled this off, he would have it and more. But first…
"Yeah," said a sneering voice in his conscience. "Easy Derek, easy as hell! First you just must survive Michael Myers if he finds out what you're up to. Oh yeah, piece of cake."
Derek Chancer was just about to lower the iPod for the night when a message flashed up on the screen. Derek. Hayward has changed her number via DV code. Our client wants it. See if you can get it for us.
"Shit," Chancer cursed. This was getting more and more dangerous alright. DV codes were almost impossible to get through, hence their very existence. That was the whole point. Now he wished the iPod's killing device was indeed real, however he knew it wasn't. If things got too hot, he might very well have used whatever it was to finish him off before Michael Myers got the chance to do it. Then a thought came to him. He knew how risky it was, but he'd try it. He knew of one person in Smith's Grove he may be able to bribe. All he had to do was wait. Maybe he'd even speak to the guy who wanted the number and do it for Chancer, so he didn't have to? Why had Michael Myers chosen her of all people to take a liking to? He cursed under his breath. There went his sleep for the night.
…
"Hey!" Chancer hissed. "Hey, John!"
The guard she knew only as "Mr. Jackass" turned to face Chancer. "What?"
"I need to talk to you," Chancer kept his voice very low. "Would you be willing to help me with something?"
John looked up and down the corridor and Chancer grinned to himself. He knew the guard understood his use of the word "help" had nothing to do with his stay in Smith's Grove. He was a smart man just as Chancer had suspected. After a moment, John looked back at him. "What?" He asked again, stepping to Chancer's bars.
"It's to do with her," Chancer murmured. "I know you don't like her; I can tell, and I've heard things. What? Don't like blind people?" He smirked. "Don't say anything," he added as John opened his mouth. "Just listen, then tell me yes or no." Without a word, the guard opened the cell door and entered. Chancer smirked. It looked as if this was going to work just as he'd hoped.
"You've got to be fucking kidding!" John said when Chancer finished telling him his plan, looking at him like he was insane. "I'd lose my job, probably go to prison, no way man!"
"It's easy," Chancer said. "Just get to her file. They'll have it written down, won't they?"
John looked at him incredulously. "That's easy for you to say, you're not the one doing it!" Then he paused, Chancer knew he was thinking about it. Finally, he spoke. "Yes, but they're in the doctor's secure filing cabinet. We have no reason to access them."
"Can't you make one up? Say… I don't know… she's asked you for something?"
John snorted. "She doesn't like me, she'd never ask me, she'd ask what her name is? Joanne. She's her designated guard Derek."
Chancer frowned. There had to be a way… Then it hit him.
"Can't you tell Dr Stark you've lost something and it's in her cabinet? Tell her you've looked everywhere, and you can't find it! All you need is a few seconds to look at her file. I know for a fact our phone numbers are at the very front! You'll get paid a shit load if you pull this off John."
Somehow, Derek was sure John also agreed with controlling and overseeing women, but he didn't ask. The guard seemed to be considering his words and Chancer felt a flicker of hope. Would he, do it? After a few moments, the guard spoke. It was no surprise he was in Chancer's cell, part of the guard's job was talking to the patients if needed, so no one would question what he was doing. But they were speaking very quietly to avoid the microphones in the corridor. They were probably just as powerful as the ones on the iPod, Chancer had no doubt of this.
"Perhaps, but I'll have to come up with something better than a lost item in her cabinet. Dr Stark's not stupid, she'll see right through that. But I'll see what I can do. You damn well better be telling me the truth about that pay-out, or… Well, I won't be happy."
"Thanks," Chancer said and shook the guard's hand. This was working out better than he could've believed. He'd done it by God! He just bribed a damn guard! Too bad for Smith's Grove they'd employed a corrupt guard. Grinning, Chancer stood up so John could lead him to breakfast. They walked casually, as if nothing had happened. Chancer even let John chain him without resisting, which was what he normally did.
…
The soft tapping of a baton against his cell bars woke Derek up from a light sleep hours later. It was John. He glanced groggily at the clock set in the cell's ceiling. It
was 10PM. Where the hell had the day gone? He'd used the iPod to listen earlier but had heard nothing. Damn it.
"Derek," John hissed, before sliding his evening meal through the door. Under his plate was a small piece of paper. Chancer grabbed it and almost laughed out loud. "How the hell?" He breathed. "So quickly?"
"Better you don't know," John said, walking away. Chancer couldn't deny he was probably right in that regard. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Grinning, he glanced down at the small piece of paper and almost whooped. Oh, this is fantastic. There was no heading or explanation, just the digits. But Chancer didn't care. In his hand was Danielle Hayward's DV protected phone number. He picked up the so-called iPod, which in truth was much more sophisticated. He had the internet for a start and that was usually impossible on an iPod without Wi-Fi or a hotspot. His hands were shaking with excitement as he entered the app, but this time he pressed the "talk" button.
"Adam Dawson," he said softly when his call was answered. "I need to speak to him. Now."
…
"John?" Ryan asked as the two guards entered the block after the late briefing. Ryan was on his first night shift and John was working the day shift, finishing at midnight. It was just after 11AM. "You look really pale and you're sweating. You alright?"
The other guard just nodded but didn't make eye contact. That was odd. Ryan's night shifts started after Joanne's, Rick's and the rest of that team's had finished. Joanne and the rest of her team had 3 days off now. Ryan met up with Sean and two other guards to start their shift.
"Is John, ok?" Sean asked Ryan as they sipped their coffee, keeping their eyes on the 3 occupied cells. Ryan had read from the previous report that Danielle wanted to speak to Michael, but right now needed two guards with her. Ryan smiled grimly. Yeah, he'd only almost died. He hadn't approached the killer so far and was thinking he probably wouldn't anytime soon. Despite their interaction after what'd happened to Rick, that'd clearly meant nothing to the silent and remorseless Myers. Ryan sighed a little sadly. He'd hoped he'd made some progress with the killer. Apparently not.
"I don't know man," he said quietly to Sean. "He looks sick. Maybe he's got a fever or something."
"He was fine earlier," one of the late guards Matt said. "Started looking ill at about 10PM tonight. "John, do you want to go home early? I can tell the boss?"
John shook his head, still not making eye contact with any of them. It was then Ryan heard the first mental alarm bells. His colleague was behaving very strangely indeed. Why?
…
"We told you this was to be used only if it was urgent," the man's voice said in Chancer's earphones.
"I know," Chancer snapped. "This is urgent, trust me. I need to speak to Mr. Dawson, like now. Believe me, he'll want to take this call."
"You'd better hope so," the voice said back. "He, or we won't be happy if you're wrong."
Oh, I won't be, Chancer thought. Just you wait. You'll soon take your words back fucker.
…
After a while, Ryan finally gathered the courage and approached Myers' cell. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, the rules stated clearly two to one with Myers if he was thinking of killing, but Ryan couldn't stop himself. He stopped far enough out of reach so the killer couldn't grab him a second time. That'd been too close for comfort just under a week ago. "Mr. Myers?"
The killer was at his bars in less than a second. Ryan took yet another step backwards. How the hell did Myers move so fast yet so quietly? He couldn't deny he was saddened by the fact the killer tried to kill him. He thought they'd gotten somewhere the last time they'd spoken. But then again, was it ever possible to get somewhere with Michael Myers? Unless your name was Danielle Hayward of course.
"I…" Ryan cleared his throat, speaking quietly so Chancer couldn't hear. He appeared to be asleep. That was just fine with him. He hated the guy, plus it was 1 AM after all. "I hope I didn't do something that angered you last time I saw you. I…" He blinked and had to look twice to make sure his tired eyes weren't playing tricks. Nope, they weren't Michael Myers was holding a PIECE OF PAPER through the bars. Ryan looked up at it and for the second time he had to look twice. Ryan, I'm sorry.
Ryan slowly looked back up at the killer. "What?" He knew it was a stupid thing to say, but his mind had gone blank. For answer, Myers just kept holding the PAPER up. "Was it my fault?" Ryan asked very quietly. "Did I do or say something I shouldn't have? I didn't mean it if I did so." No response, but the killer held out his hand. Ryan took another step backwards. "Hang on, sorry Mr. Myers, I can't take that risk. I'm currently on my own right now and…" But he got no further because the killer somehow managed to take hold of Ryan's vest even though he was standing well back. Fear gripped him as Myers pulled him closer to the bars. Ryan scrabbled for his radio, gun, anything, but stopped dead in his tracks when the killer released his vest and grasped Ryan's hand in his.
Stunned, Ryan just stared at the killer in disbelief. The killer's grip wasn't tight, or threatening, it was gentle. Ryan slowly looked up and met the killer's eyes and it was only then he realised his legs were shaking. Fuck Michael Myers made him nervous, just like he did everyone else.
Before he'd realised what was happening, he lost his balance and he'd stumbled with a clang against the bars of Myers' cell. That was when the killer's strong arm came around him (but not by the neck,) helping him up. Ryan swayed, dizzy and reached out for anything he could get a hold of. Nothing. That was until Myers took his hand again.
Myers kept hold of Ryan as he desperately tried to find his footing. Why now when he was the only guard in the damn block? Shit. But still Myers made no move to attack him. Ryan realised that he was still shaking.
The day before when Myers had almost grabbed his throat flashed through his mind, vivid as a photograph in full colour. So, what the fuck was he doing here right now when he was on his own? Madness! Yet… Ryan would never have admitted this to anyone, but there was something about Michael Myers that drew Ryan to him. Silence? Lack of feeling? He didn't know.
Even now having almost died at Myers' hands, it was there. Myers tightened his grip on him as Ryan still tried to find his feet. Before he'd realised what'd happened, the control device on his belt had opened Myers' door. The device knew whose cell you were closest to and opened the door if the device contacted it. He wasn't expecting his feet to finally give way, so he stumbled forward about to fall face down. Nor did he expect Michael Myers to catch him effortlessly. Helping him to his bed just as he'd done with Rick the day before.
"Shit," Ryan put a shaking hand to his forehead. It was soaked with sweat. "I'm sorry Mr. Myers. I didn't mean to…" The killer's gentle hand on his arm stopped him, as did the glass of water Myers handed him. Ryan looked up into the killer's usually blank gaze and could've sworn there was just a hint of warmth in it as Myers looked back at him. Again, he raised the PAPER. Ryan, I'm sorry.
"Are you trying to apologise for what happened yesterday?" Ryan asked. Myers nodded ever so slightly. Ryan could hardly believe his eyes. "Why?" He'd asked before he could stop himself. "You're a killer. It's what you do. So, what makes me any different than any of your other victims?" Nothing. But Myers didn't look away from him either. Ryan took a deep breath and a long sip of the cold water. He felt himself slowly regaining his strength and composure.
That was when Myers flipped the PAPER over.
It WILL NOT happen again.
Ryan looked at him and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Michael Myers was promising him, Ryan Jenkins that he was safe from his rage. Need to kill? Whatever it was? Ryan looked back at the card, up at Myers, then slowly nodded. He must be going crazy, but he believed the killer.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I appreciate you saying that. Well," he gave the killer a small grin. "Writing it."
Myers nodded to him once. Ryan slowly stood up. "Can I get you anything?"
Myers shook his head. But Ryan saw him looking up towards her cell and felt sympathy for him. "As soon as we're given the ok," he said softly. "I promise."
…
Adam answered his phone, closing and locking his bedroom door so tonight's pussy couldn't come out. "Yes?" He barked. "This better be fucking important."
"He says it is," said, this time a man's voice on the other end. "Our man has some news for you from SG. Says it's urgent and knows we won't be happy if it isn't."
Adam's excitement grew. "Fine, put him through." There was a click and then Adam heard Derek Chancer's voice. He'd never met the guy but knew his voice from the news.
"Mr. Dawson, I have managed to obtain her new phone number."
Adam whooped. He couldn't stop himself. This was great. He wanted to shake the woman killer's hand. "Thank you," he said softly. "I owe you pal. You're a guy I've always admired, I know your voice from the news. Go and kill more bitches for me, will you? That's all they're good for. I've revered you for years and would love to meet you."
"Thanks," Derek Chancer said. Adam could hardly believe who he was speaking to. "Give me time and I will. In the meantime,"
Softly, Derek Chancer recited the eleven digits Adam had longed for. This was just too fucking perfect! Once he was done with tonight's whore, he'd show her who she belonged to. She was his, he owned her, his property, that was all there was to it.
After he wrote the number down and hung up, he went back into his room. His excitement had given him an erection all over again and luckily enough, there was a whore and her pussy ready and waiting on his bed.
When he was done, he practically dragged her towards his front door. Normally he may have robbed her considering how small she was, but not tonight. Oh no. He had other priorities on this evening. "Get out!"
The whore was at his gate before he could blink. He laughed out loud as he closed his door. He fucked women and they ran from him afterwards. Just how he liked it. All except Danielle of course. Oh no, she was one woman as was Charlotte who wasn't running anywhere and now it was time to show her why.
…
Danielle sat at her bolted down desk, her mind in turmoil. For the last two days, she'd felt… Well, she wasn't even sure what she felt. Just… Off. Nervous. Uneasy. Dr Stark had assured her at least twice that she was perfectly safe, the most recent just a few hours ago. But she couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched. She knew it was ridiculous, she was in one of the safest places in the world. But still… She'd tried to put it down to Adam's persistent attempts to call and message her. Would that man ever give up? She knew the answer to that question already. No. Not a chance in hell.
With a deep sigh, she headed back to her bed. She knew she should try and sleep, it was after midnight. She just wasn't sure if she'd be able to pull it off tonight. As she lay down, she found her mind going back to a conversation she'd had with Joanne two days before when she'd first told her how she was feeling. She'd pressed her call button and asked Joanne if they could go for a walk at 2AM.
"Where do you want to go?" Joanne asked as they left the cell block.
"I don't care," she said truthfully. "I'd just really like to talk to you, if I may?"
"Now what kind of question is that?" Her guard squeezed her arm. "Of course you can. I'm all, as you love, ears."
She couldn't help it and laughed at that. "I love you Joanne," she said softly, realising she meant it. "Thank you."
Joanne squeezed her arm again and she hugged her tightly in the middle of the corridor, not caring if anyone saw them. Joanne squeezed her close for a moment then released her. "Um," she said shyly. "Do you trust me now Joanne?"
"In what way?" Her guard asked.
She had wanted to do this for a while now but hadn't dared asked and she and Joanne would have to be alone for it for her to feel completely at ease about doing so. Well now at 2 AM, they were. "This," she said, reaching forward and beginning to softly touch Joanne's vest and equipment, feeling the handcuffs, radio, and gun holster, plus notepaper, pen and a flashlight strapped to her shoulder and the compartments on her heavy belt. Joanne didn't move or try to stop her. She was grateful that Joanne trusted her. Especially when Joanne pulled out each piece of equipment and handed it to her, showing her where each part went in their pouches and what some of it was for. She didn't recognise the feel of her panic alarm for example. "I've wanted to ask you for that for ages," she admitted. "But I wasn't sure how."
"You should've just asked you silly girl. Did you enjoy that?" She nodded, genuinely smiling a little now.
"I thought you were going to go after my ears," Joanne said, chuckling. Danielle knew they had mutual trust and respect now, so she reached up and felt her guard's ears. She liked them; she couldn't lie. She was surprised to find Joanne also had short hair, though not quite as short as hers. Her ears were very small, and she had to admit that they were cute.
"Do I have nice ears then?" Joanne asked. She could hear in her voice that she was grinning. "Yes," she blushed.
Joanne pretended horror. "Oh no! I've passed the ear test! My ears are no longer safe!"
She burst out laughing. Not for the first time, she thanked Dr Loomis for giving her this woman. She was amazing. "They're cute," she said when she could speak.
"Cute, huh?" Joanne mused. "Well, get off my cute ears," she laughed.
"I'd love to have all that stuff on me as part of my job," she admitted as they started walking again. "It must make you feel so powerful?"
Joanne laughed. "No, it's just to protect, that's all. I don't go around thinking I'm an armed, handcuff wielding superhero."
At this, Danielle cracked up for real, unable to stop giggling. Joanne chuckled. "Sorry," she said when she'd got her breath back. "That's one reason I love you, Joanne. You're so funny, kind, and compassionate, but scary when you need to be." Joanne touched her shoulder. "I mean," she continued. "Look what happened in court with Adam when you had to shoot him."
Joanne didn't say anything until they were sitting in the restaurant with hot drinks and facing each other across the bolted down wood table. "Is that what's keeping you awake?" She asked then. "Or rather who? Adam?"
Danielle sighed. "You're just too sharp Joanne," she nodded. "But yes. Although it's not in the way you'd think. Joanne, can I talk to you… As a friend? Like, if I tell you something, will it stay here? Unless you see a risk… Damn red tape."
Joanne chuckled. "Oh, you're so cynical. But yes. I think we've known each other long enough now. At the beginning I'd have had to tell one of the doctors, but it's ok. Talk away."
"Thank you so much," she said, now feeling tears prick her eyes. "It's just…" She took a deep breath. "Lately Joanne, I feel like I've been stuck on a fucking merry-go-round. Adam. Michael. Adam. Michael. Complete with its fucking music."
"In what way hon?"
Danielle looked down for a moment and sipped her tea. Joanne didn't push her to her relief. "Just…" She said after a while. "I know that Michael would never treat me the way Adam has, but…" She took a breath once more, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "If I was ever to anger Michael, the consequences could be well… Lethal."
"Are you afraid Michael might kill you if you push him too hard? Is that what you're saying?"
"Shit," she ran her hands through her hair. "Yes… no. I don't know! She lightly hit the table in frustration, trying to find the words for what she was trying to say. "Just that I know what Michael could do to me would and could be worse than anything Adam ever did. That said, Adam did want to kill me at the end, with that machete for example. But… I mean I don't believe for a second that Michael would try to control me or anything like that, but in some ways, as terrifying as Adam is… Michael is way more so."
Joanne touched her arm to indicate she was still listening. She didn't remove her hand as the two women briefly sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. "I don't think Michael would physically harm you," Joanne said eventually. "I think if he was angry, he'd walk away. Remember that time he said you were giving him mixed signals? He just ignored you for a few days."
"I… Well, I guess I just never thought of it that way. That's a good point."
"I do have them occasionally," she could tell Joanne was grinning.
"Well thanks," she smiled back. "You definitely did this time."
"Is there a part of you which is afraid to get into a relationship with Michael? Just in case?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I do know I don't want to lead him on in any way shape or form. Nor do I want to lose him. I think I love him Joanne, he makes me happy. Even though he's never said it back to me, I can almost tell by the way he treats me. It's just… Tonight I had a bad dream."
"What happened?" Joanne stood and came back with a fresh cup of tea. "Thanks," Danielle smiled at Joanne as the guard handed it to her. Joanne sat down with her coffee.
"I expect you need a lot of those on night shifts, right?" She laughed genuinely.
"Sometimes," Joanne smiled. "So do you want to talk about this dream?"
"The strange thing is, I had one very similar shortly after I got here. I think it was the first night Michael was ever with me, the first time he held me. I was on one of those secure buses, I don't know where we were going, and you were with me."
"Was I?" Joanne chuckled. "Lucky me."
Danielle laughed with her. "Yes, but something went wrong. The bus crashed. Jefferson was there with us, and he was teasing me about how it was a shame this was our last ride together as he still wanted to fuck me," she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Michael somehow got out of his chains and was killing everyone; you were hugging me as we were both terrified."
"I'm not surprised. Then what?"
"I told you to go back to Smith's Grove if you could, Michael carried me off with him and made love to me in a car. That was when I woke up."
"Hmm. That was the first dream, was it? So, what happened in tonight's dream?"
"Yes, it was. Tonight was totally different and much worse. Michael killed me. I woke up just after he slit my throat."
"Were you on another bus with him or somewhere else?"
"I don't remember. But it just got me thinking. What if I really did anger him? He'd make Adam look like a gentleman," She grimaced. "Well, maybe not."
Joanne chuckled again. "I get your point. Is that why you couldn't get back to sleep?"
"Yeah. But I don't feel I can just turn around and say I'm scared you'll treat me like Adam did, or I'm scared of angering you because you might want to kill me if I do."
"Why?" Joanne said softly. Now Danielle did gape at her. "You're kidding right?"
"No." Joanne moved to sit next to her and took her hand. "Actually, I think that would be a very good idea. It'd bring you closer, no secrets or dishonesty and you'd both know where the other stood."
"Now I know you're joking Joanne," she said incredulously. "It's not like he'll answer me, is it?"
"By voice? Perhaps not. But we both know he's done so via your phone and in other ways before. He'll make you understand somehow, and you know that."
"Got me there," Danielle admitted eventually. "I can't deny or dispute that."
"Nope," Joanne agreed. "You can't. Just tell him the truth. He's hardly going to blame you for having flashbacks of Adam, is he? Don't answer that. I know all you've experienced before is cruelty and abuse, so I think Michael wants the chance to show you that it doesn't have to be that way. But you in turn need to do your part to be honest with him. He's hardly going to be angry with you for that is he? It's Adam he'll be angry with,"
"Ok. I promise when we're allowed back together I will."
"Good girl!" Joanne squeezed her hand.
"But that's not all," she said. "I don't mind if you must inform the doctors of this, but I'd like to tell Dr Stark in my session tomorrow. I feel… I don't know… Nervous. Off. Something just doesn't feel right, and I can't put my finger on it."
"I'm sorry. Any idea why?"
"No. That's what's getting to me. Dr Stark keeps telling me I'm safe, nothing will happen, I'm in one of the safest places I could be, I know that's why you're keeping me here. But I just… Can't relax. I feel like I'm being watched. I know it's probably just Adam's continuous calls, he keeps Face Timing me, I'm going to get my apple ID changed soon, I think Stacey is going to work on it with me next week. But I just can't relax or sleep very well lately."
"I think that's Adam," Joanne said. "I also know you relax more when Michael is with you, and I stand by what I said before. We will reunite you as soon as we can."
Danielle could only nod. She could feel a lump swelling in her throat.
"Oh sweetie," Joanne pulled her into a hug. "It's alright. I'll let you tell Dr Stark tomorrow, but if you don't, I will. Got it?"
She sniffled against her guard's shoulder and managed, "yes."
…
Adam had tried her new number at least 5 times, but her phone was turned off. This infuriated him. How dare her. But he knew it was her number because of her voicemail. "Hi this is Danielle…" So on and so forth. He'd just have to keep trying, that was all. When he got a hold of her… He felt excitement shooting straight to his groin. Oh, he couldn't wait. It would be one of the best moments of his life. Her terror, fear, just perfect.
…
It was now 3 AM and she still couldn't sleep. She sighed, sitting back down at her desk, and turning on her phone. Some music would be good right about now. She'd just opened the music app when her phone rang. That was odd, who'd be calling her at this hour? She didn't recognise the number. Without thinking, she answered it.
…
"Well, hello," Adam said, speaking as if he were talking to a naughty child. "Dear, oh dear, I'm afraid you need to be punished. You see, you changed your number without my permission and that is simply not ok. You may think while you're in that loony bin you're safe, but that's just not the case I'm afraid. When you get out, I'm going to find you then fuck you repeatedly. Your cunt is only for my big hard cock. I own you; and I'm never letting you go. I'll have to be dead before you're free."
Of course he'd known his bitch would answer. She wouldn't even dream he'd get her new number. So of course she had. After Adam stopped speaking there was a second of silence before he heard what sounded like her phone hitting the floor? He laughed out loud. Had she just passed out? If so, great. It meant she still feared him as much as he knew she should. Still chuckling, he hung up. His job was done, for now at least.
…
It was just past three when Ryan heard the clatter of something hitting the floor up the corridor. He stood up, as did Sean. "What was that?"
"I don't know," Ryan said. "Better go check it out though."
His colleague nodded and they headed up the corridor towards the cell. It was always possible she'd just dropped something, but Ryan felt better to check that she was ok.
…
When her phone rang, she felt a surge of hope. Maybe it was Charlotte with her own DV protected number? Picking up the phone she answered and at first was sure she was having a nightmare. She had to be…
She couldn't speak, nor could she hang up. Two emotions were battling within her. Terror and anger. She knew she'd been right to be nervous and here was proof. Someone on the inside had given Adam her fucking protected phone number. Dizziness closed in and she slumped back onto her bed. Just before she passed out and her phone hit the floor, she recalled that Dr Stark said she was safe, well it seemed that she was wrong.
…
Ryan and Sean stopped outside the cell and looked through the bars. She was lying on her bed and at first glance, she appeared to be asleep. But Ryan had always trusted his instincts and right now they were telling him something was wrong. "What's up?" Sean asked as Ryan pushed the button to open the door.
"I don't know," Ryan said quietly. "Something just doesn't feel right."
"She's asleep man…" Sean began, then stopped dead in his tracks. She was shaking.
"Sean, call Dr Stark. Now!" Ryan kept his voice low but urgent. The last thing he wanted was the other two in the block to know what was happening. Not Chancer anyway.
Sean grabbed his radio. The doctors could be called at night if one of their high care patients was in trouble and Ryan didn't know what else this could be. Something had clearly happened to her. Jack ran in then and Ryan was very thankful. Had Sean called him?
"Try and get her to respond," Ryan said to his colleague. As he did, Sean began to speak fast into his radio.
"Dr Stark, something's happened to Danielle. We don't know what, but she's shaking bad and isn't responding to us at all. Thanks, ok." He lowered his radio. "Dr Stark will be here in ten," he said, his own voice shaking a little. What the fuck happened? He, like all the other guards had grown to like her and didn't want to see her like this.
"Danielle," Jack murmured. "Can you hear me?" Nothing. No response of any kind.
…
When Joanne's phone rang at nearly 4AM, she knew it had to be bad news. Groggily, she reached for it. Rick's eyes had also opened. "Hello?" Joanne said. She listened, then clapped a hand to her mouth. "I'm on my way." And hung up.
"What's happened babe?" Rick asked as Joanne scrambled out of bed.
"Something's happened to Danielle," Joanne said. "That was Dr Stark. She wants me to come in right away."
Smith's Grove was allowed to call guards in, in emergencies but it was double pay, and they got two days back on leave. But Joanne didn't care about any of that. She couldn't deny she was worried about her on a personal level as well as professional. Quickly, she pulled on her uniform. Rick stood up and began to do the same.
"What are you…?" Joanne started. But she knew.
"What do you think? I'm coming with you. I want to help as much as you do, you're not doing this alone." Joanne wanted to argue, but there wasn't time. So, she just nodded.
Within minutes, they were in Rick's car racing towards Smith's Grove. The police had their registrations so if they were speeding, they'd call the hospital to find out if they'd called them in before stopping them. If yes, they were allowed to speed. They arrived at the gates and the guard simply nodded and let them in. Dr Stark would've radioed ahead. There was no time for the usual ID checks.
They ran into the guard hub, pulled on their equipment then ran into the block. Joanne ran to the cell and looked at her in horror. "What the hell happened?"
…
Before ten minutes had even passed, Dr Stark had run through the doors and up to the cell. Kneeling at her side, she asked the guards to leave. "Hey," she said, touching the woman's shaking hand. "Hello, it's me. Dr Stark."
Danielle opened her eyes and Dr Stark could see the anger and rage on her face. "I'm going to fucking kill them," she said very softly.
Dr Stark was personally shocked, but professionally tried not to show it. She'd never expected mild mannered Danielle to say that even when at her angriest. What on earth had happened? "Who?"
"WHOEVER GAVE ADAM DAWSON MY SO-CALLED PROTECTED fucking PHONE NUMBER!" Danielle shouted and Dr Stark stared at her in horror.
"What did you just say?"
Without another word she handed the doctor her phone. The doctor scanned the screen and saw the most recent call. Pulling out her work phone, she dialled the number from her phone into it. She listened as it started ringing, then the call was answered, and the single word spoken by the man on the other end told Gemma Stark all she needed to know. "Dawson?"
…
During the entire time Gemma Stark had been a psychiatrist, she'd always prided herself on keeping her emotions in check. She never showed how she was truly feeling. Whether it be dislike towards a patient, anger, whatever. The closest she ever came was when she was at home and in the arms of her husband, Dr Luke Stark, a top-rated heart surgeon. Even then, she didn't talk about it, and he never pushed, knowing she couldn't answer him. He'd just hold her at night, if she was struggling to sleep, or on the very rare occasion when she'd cried. They'd been married for ten years, and Gemma Stark could not be happier.
On this night though, for the first time in her professional life, she was struggling to do so. One emotion was so strong in her chest she couldn't hold it in. Anger. As soon as Dawson had given his name she'd hung up, thankfully she'd withheld her work number so he couldn't call back. The fact that clearly someone on the inside had passed Danielle's supposedly DV protected phone number to her abuser had made Gemma Stark furious.
It had to be someone on the inside because no one else would've had access to it. Once a number was DV protected, it wouldn't even show in the owner's phone settings. The only way was to call one of their contacts to get it. She had called Dr Stark's work phone to pass it on and she had written it in her file.
So, who the hell had gained access to her secure cabinet, got Danielle's number, and dared to pass it to Adam Dawson? Then there was the question of who had asked them to do it. Surely it hadn't been one of the guards. How long had they been working against Danielle? Was there someone on the inside watching her? This made Dr Stark, if possible, even angrier.
Heading into her office, she walked straight over to the cabinet in question. It could only be opened using a fingerprint or a passcode. The guards had access, but only in absolute emergencies. They would have no reason to get out a file unless they needed medication or next of kin details. One thing she'd never told any of them was that she'd installed a tracking device. It would show her the last time the cabinet had been accessed, giving the time and date.
Quickly she logged into her computer and entered the 3 separate passwords before she got to the cabinet's app. clicking on it, her eyes widened in horror and rage. Access had been gained at 10:01 last night. So that meant it was one of the late or graveyard shift guards. Dr Stark took a deep breath, got to her feet, and headed back into the block. When Rick had appeared with Joanne, Dr Stark had given him a small smile in thanks. Now, Dr Stark entered the cell block and walked to her room. Joanne was holding Danielle in a tight hug.
"Someone accessed the secure cabinet and had taken her number from her file. It was done at 10:01 last night."
Joanne clapped a hand to her mouth in horror, Rick glared at the wall.
"No way," he said softly. "Who?"
"I don't know," Dr Stark said in a low voice. "But believe me I'm going to find out."