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The bang on her cell door did little to startle Rose. The guards were right on schedule.
‘Handcuffs, inmate!’ the guard barked, slamming his nightstick against the steel bars of her cell again. ‘Barkley, right?’ Rose said as she let her hands be cuffed behind her back. An entirely useless ritual for a meal she had not requested.
‘Shut up, inmate,’ C.O. Barkley said, tightening the handcuffs around her wrists until they stung.
Rose bit her tongue to suppress a hiss. Oh, he was in for it now. Barkley, like lots of other correctional officers, had delusions of grandeur and power. He was a glorified babysitter but give a man power over women and bam they all became cruel psychopaths. But as a cruel psychopath herself, Rose had very little patience for men like him.
‘How old’s your son?’ Rose asked as she faced the wall, hearing the cell door unlock behind her.
‘What did you say?’ His nerves were starting to show. Family was always the easiest way to get to people. And even a walking and talking dick like Barkley seemed to care for his, even if it was only so he could boss them around too.
‘Your son. He’s about two, right?’
‘How do you know, you fucking bitch?’ Barkley spat out, shoving Rose against the wall. Hard. With no hands to brace herself, Rose’s face caught the full force. Her throbbing cheek just fueled her anger.
‘I hear things,’ Rose said, her voice full venom and ice, making the words sound more ominous than they were. But Barkley was getting on her last nerve and he deserved to sit by his door clutching his gun that night. In truth, Rose had just overheard Barkley talking to one of the other C.O.’s about how his son was only two years old but already a lady’s man. (Rose would never understand straight people forcing a sexuality on a toddler. But then again, she didn’t understand straight people, period.) ‘I bet he’s a cute kid, better hope he doesn’t take after his daddy.’
Barkley leaned in closer, Rose smelling his sour breath as he pressed her harder against the wall. ‘I am gonna enjoy watching you fry tomorrow,’ he hissed.
‘Tomorrow’s Friday then?’ Rose said coolly, like her impending execution was just another item on her to do list.
‘Enjoy your meal, bitch. It’s the last one you’re gonna get. Your time’s run out.’ With that Barkley backed off, his colleague locking the cell behind him.
Rose pushed herself off the wall, Barkley’s colleague, a quiet, skinny kid who looked like he was supposed to be in a math class somewhere, held the keys to her handcuffs in his hands, looking between Barkley and herself, obviously unsure of what to do.
‘Enjoy the handcuffs, Ruvelle! Courtesy of me.’
‘Sir,’ the kid spoke up, his voice nearly breaking from nerves and probably puberty. ‘We’re supposed to take them off.’
‘How am I supposed to eat my last meal like this, Barkley?’ Rose said calmly, her eyes spitting fire as she glared at the guard.
‘Figure it out. You’re supposed to be smart, right?’ He laughed as he walked off, the kid hesitating for a moment before following his superior.
‘Hey, Doug,’ Rose yelled after the duo as she walked up to the bars of her cell, using the guard’s first name for extra effect. ‘You better hope they actually kill me tomorrow. Won’t be the first time I died. And when I don’t, I’m coming for you.’
Barkley didn’t respond to her taunt, but she could see his step falter. He was scared. Rightly so. Because Rose had no intention of dying tomorrow.
She looked at the tray of food Barkley had deposited on her bunk. Her last meal. She had told them to bring her whatever. As she wasn’t planning to die tomorrow, it would not be her last meal and it wouldn’t matter what she ate.
Whatever had apparently translated to a hamburger and fries in the kitchen, like Rose ate carbs like that. Regardless, it would serve its purpose as sustenance.
As she sat down on her bed, hands still tightly cuffed behind her back, she remembered a conversation she’d once had with Luisa.
It had been years ago, she’d still been married to Emilio. The conversation pillow talk in between orgasms. Luisa had been laying on her chest, listening to her heart beat, when she had suddenly brought up what Rose would want to have for a last meal.
Rose tried her best not to stiffen at the sudden question.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Why are you thinking about that?’
She shrugged. ‘This article I read about what inmates requested for their last meals. I don’t know. I guess it’s telling about a person what they would want to eat one last time.’
‘Would it surprise you to hear I have never really thought about it?’ Rose laughed, stroking her hand down Luisa’s back.
Luisa raised herself up on her elbows, hovering above Rose and looking down at her. ‘Because you’re never gonna end up in prison or because you’re never going to die?’
‘Both,’ Rose grinned. Knowing that if she got caught Luisa’s hypothetical question would become a lot more realistic very quickly, but she was never going to get caught. ‘So what would you have for you last meal?’
Luisa seemed to think about it for a second. ‘Ice cream. I would just eat a ton of ice cream. And probably a bottle of whiskey to wash it down with.’
‘Lu,’ Rose warned, it was always dangerous when Luisa started thinking about drinking.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be on death row, my sobriety will hardly matter,’ Luisa smiled, a little sadly. ‘Now come on, you’ve recovered enough. Maybe I should just request you as my last meal.’ She grinned as she dove under the sheets, spreading Rose’s legs.
Rose laughed, shooting a glance at the clock, they had to hurry, time was running out.
Rose smiled at the memory. Having Luisa as her last meal would have been infinitely better than these limp fries and greasy cheeseburger.
They had last spoken the week before. The verdict of her trial had just come in, it had taken the jury barely 30 minutes to come back in. Rose had known they were going to convict and go for the death penalty before she even stepped foot in a courtroom.
Luisa had been crying, Rose unable to comfort her as there was a bulletproof plane of glass separating them. She wished she could have told Luisa that she had no intention of dying in this prison, but the nearby guards were most definitely listening in on their conversation and Rose didn’t want them on high alert for the rest of the week. She still needed to work out the finer details of her plan and for that she needed some space and time.
Now there were only 15 more hours of her time here left. Could be worse, Rose thought. Awkwardly flexing her wrists in the tight, steel handcuffs. Barkley was so predictable, he should have known by now not to get so close to her. He had very nearly handed her his keys. She couldn’t just not take them.
She blindly flipped through the keys on the chain in her hand until she found the right one, loosening her cuffs enough so they no longer hurt her wrists. She could have just taken them off completely, but that would have aroused suspicion, suspicion she did not need right now.
She did, however, need her hands in front of her so she could eat. Luckily, she had always been limber, lots of yoga and athletic sex with Luisa certainly helped, so she stepped over the chain in her handcuffs, her hands now bound in front of her, which made life a little easier.
The cold cement of the cell was her only witness as she slipped the key she needed off the ring. Barkley wouldn’t miss it. He probably didn’t even know he had it.
She slipped it under her mattress before throwing the rest of the keys through the bars. Far enough away from her cell to avoid suspicion and just make it look like Barkley lost them.
She picked at her fries, they were absolutely disgusting. Had probably been fried in motor oil or something.
The tray rattled as she shoved it off her bed, she would get some decent food tomorrow on the outside. Right now, she needed to pass the remaining time of her sentence.
It was difficult to tell time on death row. There were no clocks and no windows to let in any natural light. Still, the prison’s routine added some structure to an otherwise timeless existence. Three meals a day. Bathroom breaks. One hour of rec time. And of course the guards patrolling outside her cell every half hour. Or every hour after midnight.
Rose folded her cuffed hands behind her head. Thinking of Luisa and all the time they had to make up for after tomorrow.
She’d be happy to see her, she always was. Even when things had been less than ideal between them. But everything was different this time around. They could leave Miami for good this time. Luisa was no longer speaking to Rafael, and she had no other ties in the city. They could finally leave the city behind.
Rose was smiling as she imagined the rest of their lives together.
‘Wakey, wakey, inmate,’ Barkley grinned meanly, rousing her from her light slumber. ‘I would say “eggs and bakey” but you’re the only one who’s going to fry today.’
Rose rolled her eyes. ‘Did you two-year-old teach you that or did you come up with that all by yourself?’ Rose said, stretching her arms above her head.
Barkley narrowed his eyes. ‘I volunteered to press the button. I’ll be the last thing you see before your descend into hell.’ She almost pitied how wrong he was.
‘You know what they say, ill weeds grow apace.’ And every rose has its thorns.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever that means. I need you to get up. The chair is waiting for you.’
‘I bet it’s more comfortable than my bed.’ She smiled, knowing that it unnerved Barkley when she did so.
He told her to stay back, nightstick outstretched as the skinny kid from yesterday opened the door, shackling her ankles and attaching the chain to the cuffs at her wrists, not even checking if they were still properly locked.
Her chains rattled as she walked past the row of cells for the final time. This was it, her final moments.
Rose couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she passed through one of the nine doors between her and freedom. She would need to go through five more to reach the part of the prison the executions took place.
Two more guards joined their small procession, falling in rank behind Barkley and the young guard.
Rose feigned a stumble past door seven. There was a flaw in the way the prison was designed, Rose had figured it out on her first day here. This little tour to the execution chambers from death row took her right past the guard locker rooms, which had their own exit and entry.
She fell to her knees, grinning as Barkley’s shout for her to get up stuck in his throat as the sharp buzz of a stun gun interrupted him. He fell down next to her, body still shaking violently, his eyes showing nothing but fear.
Rose didn’t pay much attention to him. He no longer held any of her interest. This part of her life was over.
She slipped out of handcuffs, accepting the key from one of her guards to unlock her leg shackles as well.
The hallway was still empty as Rose pulled the stolen key from her pocket, inserting it into the lock of the female locker room’s door. Her two bought guards dragged the unconscious bodies of Barkley and the young C.O. inside.
This was the genius part of her plan. There were only two female guards on duty today and they were both on her payroll. Everyone could be bought, and for two women working for the government the price had been quite cheap indeed.
One of the guards thrust another blue uniform her way. Rose quickly changed out of her orange jumpsuit. The color had not done her any favors and she was glad to be rid of it.
Once dressed in the heavy polycotton blend of the guard’s uniform, one of the guards slipped into her jumpsuit. With her hair down the resemblance was just enough to get her past the last two doors and give Rose enough time to get away and that was all she needed.
Rose nodded at the two female guards, telling them to go, there was no time to waste.
As the guards marched down the hall, one the prisoner, the other the C.O., Rose slipped out of the back door. Taking her first breath of fresh air in months. The clock had reset, she had all the time she needed now.