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- Author: Kathi Barton
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The woman was laughing all the way down the hall. Tina couldn’t see who was in the other cells, but she did know some of them held the others that had been arrested that day. When the bitch came back, a cell phone in her hands, Tina felt like she’d won this battle, but she only held it out just far enough that she wasn’t able to reach it.
“By the way, I don’t know if you were told this or not, but your son is married now. A very nice woman too. Her name is Amy.” Tina couldn’t even fathom why this woman would tell her such an outrageous lie. She asked her about it. “No reason for me to lie to you about it. But I think they’re trying to have a baby too. That would make you a grandma. Ha. That’s funny. You a grandma.”
“No fucking way is that going to happen. I need to speak to him before, God forbid, he actually does get this woman knocked up. He doesn’t understand that with money comes hookers and streetwalkers wanting to take every penny he has. I’ll just have to teach him a few lessons in that. Christ. She’s not going to be married to my son nor anyone else when I’m finished with her.” Tina was already plotting ways to end the other woman’s life. “I’ll need her name and schedule she keeps. I’m sure, like all money-grubbing fucking bitches, she’s thinking she’s going to get his money. He should know by now that I’ll say when and who he’s going to marry. And if you call me a grandmother once more, I will kill you.”
Again, the stupid cow walked away with laughter ringing around the hall. It seemed to be twice as loud as it usually was. The worst part was that she kept singing about how they were going to grandma’s house. She knew it was a kid’s song, but it was making her crazy. Screaming, just letting off some steam that she’d not been able to since being brought here, Tina sat down on the bed.
Too much right now. Mentally sorting through the things that had been told her, Tina put them in order of importance. To her, it was all important, but as she had learned from Eita, if you ran around doing a lot of things at once, it was difficult to bask in the wonderful moments when you were able to finish one of the projects. Eita was a pro at being a Wilkerson. Tina wished every day that the bullet that had ended the life of her best friend in the world had taken out Crista, who had killed Eita. Sure, she’d not be in charge right now, but Eita was the best at getting things done. She would have had them all out of here by now, and they would be on the way to getting things back the way they were. When they were in charge.
“It’s all that woman’s fault.” Holly had been killed by them, and the fact that she was making their lives so fucking difficult from the grave pissed Tina off so much she wanted to go and dig her up and kill her all over again. “She wasn’t worth the spit of cum that created her if you were to ask me.”
Since she couldn’t get on the party line that they’d had, nor talk face to face with any of the other women, she had to talk to herself. Tina didn’t mind her own company, but long stretches of no one to speak to really depressed her. Who was there for her when she came up with one of her many brilliant ideas? No one.
They wouldn’t allow her to have another pen to keep notes with because she’d tried to use it to pick the lock. If some low-brow mouth breather had been in the cage with her, she would have made them break her out. Tina was also grateful that she wasn’t with a low life. Shivering, she looked around her cage.
To call it a cell wasn’t fair. It was a cage, something to hold someone in. She’d been in jail a couple of times in her youth, but never for this long. All she’d had to do was make a phone call to her mother or her father, and they’d send someone out to get her. Then they paid off the other person, the reason she’d been arrested, but it never showed up on her record. Having wealthy parents had been a wonderful thing. But sadly, she’d had to kill them when they started making noises of cutting her off from their fortune.
“Didn’t I get the shaft on that too? The only mention of me was to tell me that no matter what happened to my brother, I still didn’t get to inherit any of their money. Fuckers. Still killed him, now didn’t I? If I couldn’t have it, neither could he.”
Laughing at herself, she sat down on the only seat in the cage. Her cot, they called it. Not the floor. The fucking place only got cleaned three times a week, and never on the weekend. She could still see some of the bits of food that she’d dropped on the floor the night before last. Whoever thought that having a single sandwich on plain white bread could constitute a meal was out
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