The Payback Man

She reached for his shirt and began to tug it out of the waistband of his jeans, pulling slowly and with infinite care.

“Stop that.”

“Shut up. I want to find out what’s wrong with you.”

His shirt came free and she lifted it as high as she could. She caught her breath. “Oh, my God, who did this to you?”

“I fell over a curb.”

“Newman. How many times did he hit you?”

“He didn’t.”

“Steve—” She couldn’t conceal the anguish in her voice. “Please sit down. Let me help you.”

She slipped under his armpit, put her arm across his back to his shoulder and lifted to take the weight off his hands. She felt the tension in his muscles, heard his breath sough in his chest. She tried to turn him so that she could slide one of the desk chairs under him.

“No. Forwards.”

She caught the chair with her left foot and pulled it across in front of him, then lowered him so that he straddled it. She sat in the other chair, knee to knee with him. He closed his eyes.

“I’ll get you to the infirmary, then I’ll go straight to the warden. I’ll have that bastard fired.”

Steve shook his head. “He’s civil service and union with high seniority. You can’t touch him.”

“But if the others saw it…”

“They didn’t see anything.”

Eleanor was certain he was lying.

“Why did he do it?”

“He doesn’t need a reason.”

“It’s because I humiliated him in front of the men, isn’t it? He took it out on you.”

He looked up and into her eyes. He wasn’t certain she recognized the connection between them. Newman had certainly picked up on it. He guessed the others were aware of it, as well.

He nodded. “Yeah, I think that was his reason.”

He had rested his hands on the back of the chair he sat in. She covered them with hers. They were warm and strong, and yet gentle. The touch flashed along his nerve endings.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, and snatched her hands away as though she had only that moment recognized the intimacy of the gesture. She stood up and moved to the back of the office to look out the single dirty window. “I wanted to make things better, not worse.”

He was so used to hearing only commands from his captors that the pain in her voice caught him off guard.

He longed to stand, go to her, tell her he’d survive, that it wasn’t her fault, that he’d had worse, but he didn’t think he could manage to stand without help. “Newman was looking for an excuse. You were only the trigger. It’s personal with him.”

“Because you’re not like the others.”

“I’m exactly like the others. Don’t ever forget that.”

“No, you’re not. I don’t know what you did that brought you here, but I know that Newman is a redneck who resents you because you’ve managed to keep your dignity even in this place. He can’t endure it.”

“Then I’m the one who has to endure it. If I make trouble, he’ll find some way to send me back to Big Mountain. I can’t—I don’t want that.”

He could see from her expression that she thought she understood that he didn’t want the soul-numbing life behind steel bars, that he preferred to serve his time in the open air. He let her think that was what he meant. He wasn’t certain whether she would be a help or a hindrance in his flight plan. She was already a distraction.

She sighed deeply, then said, “I’ll have to respect your wishes this time. You understand the dynamics of the place better than I do.” She squared her shoulders and became all business. “I wasn’t kidding about needing some computer help. I hope you weren’t kidding about knowing how to work the things.”

“I’ve had experience.” More experience than anyone within ten miles, probably.

“I need a database to keep track of the cattle program, start to finish. I know the basic information I need to be able to track—vaccinations, insemination and calving dates, that sort of thing. I know some of the ways it should be cross-referenced, but I have no idea how to set up the program. Can you do something like that?”

“Doesn’t sound too difficult.”

She nodded. “That’s a legitimate way of keeping you in here and sitting down for a couple of days. Since Lard Ass isn’t here, at least he won’t know about today.”

“He’ll know, all right.”

“It will still be my choice, not yours. I’m going to request that we keep Selma and find another job for Newman. If he does come back, I’ll put the fear of God and the warden into him.”

He caught her hand. She drew in her breath sharply, braced against him.

“You will not.” It was the voice of command. He hadn’t used it in three years. Amazing how quickly it came back.

“Let go of me,” she said softly.

“Sorry.” He released her and struggled to his feet.

He could see from her eyes that she was suddenly uncomfortable with him, perhaps even a little afraid. He dropped his hands. “I apologize. But I’ve got to make you see that you can’t interfere with Newman on my behalf or the behalf of any of the other men.”

“Of course I can. He’s a stupid man.”

“He’s a sadistic bastard, but he’s clever at that, if nothing else. He’s also dangerous, and not only to me and the other men. If you cross him, he’ll find some way to hurt us. And he may hurt you, too.”

“Hurt me?” She laughed and walked to the computer. “He wouldn’t dare use his baton on me. What’s he going to do, get me fired? I don’t think so.”

Steve shook his head. “Not fired and not hit with a baton. And not by him directly. Probably not even on prison property, but hurt, nonetheless.”

“You’re serious.” She wrapped her arms around herself and hunched her shoulders.

He longed to pull her close, feel the warmth of her body against him. The very thought shredded his nerve endings. He didn’t dare allow her warmth to seep into his soul. He might begin to question his goals.

He had to teach her how to be careful. She was more vulnerable than she knew. “This place has its own unwritten rules. A man like Newman has power that reaches outside the prison gates, to men who owe him, who know they may be under his control again someday.”

She raised her eyes. They were hazel, the color of the last leaves of autumn. She leaned toward him and, without the consent of his body, his hands reached for her arms.