The Bars Between Us

4. Visiting With Criminals

I am eating my lunch when there is a knock on my office door. I swallow my mouthful before calling out for them to come in. The door opens to reveal Clayton. I grin at him.

"How can I help you?" I ask, taking another bite.

"I came down to accompany you to the visitation center, but I can see you're not ready."

My eyes widen as I look the clock on the wall by the door.

"Oh no!" I exclaim.

Ever since Roman asked me to type up the letter, he kept giving me extra pages making me lose track of time. I rush to finish the rest of my lunch, throwing the container in the trash can in the corner once I have finished. I quickly write a note to Roman, in case he comes to find me, and grab my keys before pushing past my desk. Clayton chuckles.

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you were a couple of minutes late," he tells me. I shrug, exiting my office.

"I don't want to keep them waiting," I inform him, as I lock the door to my office. We both start to walk down the hallway, back to the center of the prison.

"How's your head?" Clayton inquires. After I took a painkiller this morning it helped, but it's slowly started to protest again in the last half an hour.

"It's fine, sore as expected," I tell him. He gives me a worried smile, so I change the subject before he can ask any more questions of how I acquired my injury.

"Did the inmates arrive alright?"

"They did. Roman did his long speech about the rules and how they should act in his prison, like they don't already know. I had to search them, and do a check up," he enlightens me, pulling a face. I giggle.

As we get closer to the core of the prison, the loud, bustling sound of the prisoners can be heard. I look down at my watch and see that it's one in the afternoon, meaning all the prisoners are just coming back from their lunch. We step out and see the hundreds of inmates flowing out of the door and into the mess hall.

I look over them, trying to find any new faces. I don't know all the inmates by face, but I'm able to spot the new ones easily. I see a few, some of them already looking like they've settled into gangs, and a couple on the outskirts wanting to get through the day without any trouble. The orange mass starts to emit shouts and cat calls when they see me.

"Hey there, Kitty Kitty," I hear the familiar call.

I blush slightly, but continue walking. The call is followed by vulgar comments and suggestions. I roll my eyes, used to all of the things they say. I know that they mostly mean no harm, but I still feel embarrassed when they call out at me.

If I'm with Roman, when they call out, he usually overreacts and takes it out on both me, and the prisoner he saw call out. I would say that I get the worse treatment, by being beaten, but I've never been in solitary before to make the judgment. I've also heard rumors of Roman getting inmates to attack others, but have had no proof. All in all, Roman is not a great warden.

I bow my head slightly as we continue to walk; I always feel ashamed and guilty when I walk past inmates. Roman treats them badly, and I feel, being his wife, that I should control him better. I've tried before when I've seen the guards pulling them around roughly, but all I get is a statement telling me to 'stay out of his business,' even though it's my business as well.

"Are they making you uncomfortable?" Clayton asks looking at my posture and the inmates. He's always had the knack of reading me. I shake my head.

"No," I assure.

"Are you sure? Because I can get the guards to disperse them," he offers. I smile at his caring, but assure him again.

"I'm sure."