Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

K age

Chained like an animal.

That's all I'd been for years, treated as if I was scum on the bottom of a guard's shoe. As I was led past the other inmates, they screamed obscenities and made threats, nothing that mattered to the faceless men who'd taken the job of trying to keep the peace. Sadly, most of the guards had been bought by one gang or another, eager and willing to follow directions, abusing inmates as ordered.

They mostly left me alone, but today as I was shoved down the ugly corridor, one of two guards was poking me with one of his bully sticks over and over again. It was typical, prisoners with a short fuse launching at them, chained or not. That allowed them permission to beat the fuck out of the man attempting to protect himself.

I wasn't in the mood to be goaded by anyone at this point. And I hadn't bothered to ask where the fuck the bastards were taking me. What did it matter at this point? Maybe they were taking me to see the warden where he'd tell me additional time had been shoved onto my record. It was a supermax prison. They could do anything they wanted and no one cared.

As the guards stopped at one of the interrogation rooms, the ugliest and meanest of them snickered before unlocking the door. The hard shove was typical, but this time slammed me against the table.

"That is enough!" Her voice was harsher than normal, the prison psychologist usually very demure. She jerked to her feet, her face reddening. "Not only will I report this to your warden, but I can and will ensure you are tossed out of here on your asses with no chance at receiving your pension if I ever see you abusing a prisoner again. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?"

I grinned before glancing over my shoulder. The two jerks were shocked and pissed off. Oh, boy, didn't I feel sorry for them . Not.

"Do you understand?" she hissed. Wow. The woman actually had a backbone.

"Yes, ma'am," Johnny boy said with a sneer on his face.

"Un-fucking-cuff him. Now."

She even cursed. Someone must have pissed in her Wheaties. I liked the new Cecilia Daniels. I'd seen her a few times given my… anger issues. She'd been motherly, trying to nurture me into being a good man, reminding me I'd served my country and had been a model citizen. Who cared? As if I could turn over a new leaf now. I was nothing but an empty, enraged shell.

"He's a dangerous criminal capable of eating your face off," Mark the shadow said. He was the guard most likely to become a fuck toy for the big cartel lord inside the place.

"I'll take my chances," she said. "He's a human being, unlike the two of you."

Holy fuck. She was on a roll.

Johnny cursed under his breath as he followed her directions, and it was all I could do not to kick the son of a bitch in the face. When the shackles had been removed, she finally turned her attention toward me, offering a respectful smile. I'd been tough on her during our meetings. Her attempt at getting through the thick block wall I'd placed around myself had done nothing but anger me and I'd made certain she knew it.

It felt good to be treated like a human being for a change.

"Now, get out and I do not want us bothered," she told them, nodding toward the door.

"It's your funeral, lady," Mark said.

"That's Doctor Daniels to you. It's about time you boys learn some respect."

I had to give her more credit than I had at this point. She was damn good at putting them in their places. When they were gone, slamming the door behind them, she rubbed her hands down the jacket of her conservative suit.

While she was older, not quite enough to be my mother, her age wouldn't matter to the thugs inside here. Most hadn't seen a woman in years. Any piece of meat was good enough for them.

"Sit down, Mr. Bronson."

I eyed her warily and she shook her head.

"Please?"

Grinning, I did as she asked, thumping into the chair then rubbing my wrists. The fuckers had purposely ensured that the steel was digging into my skin.

She pulled a bottle of Coke from under the table. It was an odd and very touching move. It was also cold. Ice was considered a possible weapon, the substance not allowed but the bottle was dripping from being nestled in it. Interesting. During the times she'd tried to get me to let my guard down, telling her personal things, I'd spouted off I liked a cold Coke now and again. The fact she'd remembered surprised me.

After studying me briefly, she sat down, yanking a folder from an unseen briefcase and placing it on the table. It was her usual behavior, flipping through the thick pages to discover my latest infraction.

She was normally stressed, which I couldn't blame her for. Why she'd signed up to deal with savage criminals for her profession had always been a curious thought in my mind. I hadn't bothered to ask. It wasn't my place and we weren't buddies.

"There was an incident in the shower yesterday?" she finally asked.

I twisted the cap from the Coke, chugging down half before I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my jumpsuit. It was my way of reminding her I was the animal I'd been portrayed as. "There's always an incident in the shower, Doctor Daniels. You should know that by now."

"It would seem a couple men suffered serious injuries. It's funny to me that no one is talking."

"Yeah? It would seem no one wants to have a target on their backs for snitching. From what I understand, the Russian pricks were treated like the rodents they are. Like I said, no one talks in this place if they want to live."

She dramatically slammed the file shut. "Mr. Bronson. Do you want to get out of here while you're still vertical?"

I sneered at her and picked at the bottle's label. "Unlikely to happen."

"If your behavior continues this way, you're damn right." She leaned over the table far too close to me, something she'd been warned against doing. I could easily smash her face into the table just because I wanted to.

Only I wasn't that kind of man.

Sure, I'd done some unspeakable things in my day, but I'd never hurt a woman. My mama had done something right.

"So what? I ain't got nothing."

She laughed, a knowing sound that was entirely different than normal. "Please don't treat me like some fucking fool, Kage. You use language as if you're uneducated, thinking it makes you tough. Right? Well, in my eyes, you're a shithead who threw away your future and all because of what?"

"I ain't nothing and you know it." I looked away, unused to being shoved into a corner this way.

"Oh, please. Your woe is me routine is starting to piss me off. Let me remind you of who and what you were. You're from a damn decent family who loves you very much, with a sister who worships the ground you walk on. You were the football captain, voted the most likely to succeed in high school and had a full fucking Rhodes Scholarship. You served your country, even earning a Purple Heart for bravery. You had everything going for you. Instead, you chucked that and enlisted in the Marines, where you advanced quickly, earning yourself a Silver Star for your heroic deeds. When you returned, you resumed college life, earning a dual degree in psychology and criminology from Duke, which you promptly wasted four years later."

I rolled my eyes. "If you know so much about me, why are we chatting?"

"Because this game we've been playing for years is getting old. I know why you turned to working for the most brutal crime lord in the country, and why you threw your life away. But for fuck's sake, is this all you want to aspire to?"

I glared at the woman, daring her to go down a bad path I'd almost strangled her over during our first meeting. She knew the subject that was completely off limits.

"What do you want from me, Doc? A promise I'll be a good boy inside this fucking hellhole? Let me remind you that the worst of humanity is inside these concrete walls, men most people in the outside world can't think about without having vicious nightmares. In order to survive in here, you have to become one of them. I ain't the guy you think I am."

"You're also not a brutal killer like they made you out to be. You and I both know you're covering for someone."

"Old argument, Doc. Move on."

She shook her head, laughing bitterly. "You're a fucking hard man to understand."

"What do you want, to berate me? To ask me to promise I won't defend myself again? That's not going to happen."

"No. I'm here to offer you a way out."

I had to admit, in the times we'd met, I hadn't considered our little chats would help me get parole, which had a slim to nil chance. Now I was the one leaning over, doing my usual attempt at intimidating her.

To the woman's credit, she wasn't afraid. Instead, she also leaned forward as she'd done before, lifting a single eyebrow.

"What's that, Doc? Becoming born again? I don't believe in God."

"No, but you do care about two things. Women and animals."

What in fuck's sake was she getting at? "Yeah, so?"

Dr. Daniels pulled another file from her worn briefcase, placing her hand over it without opening. "So, I have an opportunity that I think you're perfect for."

"What's that?"

Her expression softened. "There's a program where inmates assist animals, training them usually over a five- or six-month period to become therapy dogs."

Snorting, I took another gulp of my Coke. "I ain't qualified."

"Yes, you are. What about Jake?"

I shoved the table hard enough that her eyes opened wide. "Don't mention him again. Another subject that's off limits."

"Take a deep breath for me and listen. This particular program is all about saving and nurturing animals who were abused, considered unredeemable. Most were on the euthanasia list, completely unadoptable. This gives them and you a chance at learning about kindness all over again."

The woman had chiseled into my psyche enough to know I'd press her for more details. "What does that entail?"

"Living with them, feeding them. Walking them. Training them. Playing with them. You will become their guardian and in turn, you'll be moved to a different location in the prison allowing you access to the grounds. If you're lucky, the pup will graduate and move onto becoming a support animal for someone in need. And I assure you there are plenty of people who've suffered tragedies like you have, some even much worse."

I eyed her carefully, my heart aching.

"I'm no dog trainer, Doctor. I don't have any qualifications. We'll fail."

"Bullshit. It's about caring for them, showing them love after what they'd been through. This program is more about providing service animals for people who've been through a crisis. A tragedy, a loss, being attacked. If these pups can relearn people are decent, they will be the best companions. Loyal. Loving. Protective."

"What's in it for me?"

"Do you really need to ask me that?" she asked, offering a gentle smile. "You need this, Kage. You need to be reminded you're very human."

I looked away.

"Plus, if you're successful and finish the program without an issue, it's entirely possible you'll get parole this time around."

Now I laughed out loud. "They ain't giving me parole. They're owned by certain… bad guys."

"Don't do that. You obviously have no clue how tenacious I am. I will get you a decent review because I will be there." She pulled out a few pictures, slapping them on the table. "Take a good look at their faces, Kage. Marty here was shot with a BB gun over and over again, chained to a fence. The collar dug into his skin and he almost suffocated. Lindy Lou was left by her former owners in the backyard with no water, no food. Wally was regularly beaten, his front legs broken. He's lucky they didn't need to be amputated. And Max. Yeah, well, Max was set on fire and if it hadn't been for a Good Samaritan, he would have died. These are a few of the faces who need someone to show them love again. You can be that man."

I glanced at the photographs, another type of rage tearing through me. One in particular nearly broke my heart. If I had one. I jerked up, moving toward the door. "I can't do that. I'll destroy whoever you provide."

"No, you won't, Kage. I know better. Please, let me offer you something that will remind you there is still a life for you to live. Please."

Her pleading was also abnormal, but I couldn't look at her. "They won't allow me into the program."

"Already preapproved."

I remained quiet.

"Just allow me to bring you one to meet. Just a meeting. Okay?"

I pounded on the door calling for the guards. But as soon as Mark threw it open, I looked back at her. It was one of the toughest things I'd done in my life but as I glanced at the photographs again, I finally nodded.

What the hell did I have to lose?