Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives) (43 page)

His gaze shifted to the guy on the top bunk. He looked about twenty, and was a small bloke with closely cropped hair. The guy’s worried expression made Tama smile.

“What’s ya name?” Tama asked.

“Josh Nahia.”

“Whatcha in for?”

“Manslaughter. Hit a guy with a pool stick. The bastard fell back and cracked his head. Died a few days later.”

Tama’s smile widened. He had no worries with this bloke. One, he was too small to bugger him, and two, the dude wasn’t a crim, he was just an unlucky cunt.

“What you in for?” Josh asked.

“A few things.”

Josh swung his legs out of bed. “What?”

“Rape, assault, and attempted murder. I would’ve finished the bastard off too if my bitch mate didn’t stop me. Then the fuckin’ pigs showed up.” Tama scowled. “I’m gonna get that bitch when I get out.”

Josh’s face went white; a pretty hard task considering the dude was browner than him. “You’re kidding me?”

Tama laughed. He just realised Josh probably thought he’d raped a guy. “Don’t piss yourself, I’m not a fag. It wuz a chick that said I raped her.”

Josh still looked worried. “Who’d ja try to kill?”

“Her husband. He tried to bash me with a baseball bat.”

Josh nodded, his shoulders slightly relaxing.

“Do ya know any Zanes in here?” Tama asked.

“Nah, sorry, I’ve only been in a week.”

“Any guys try to do you?”

“Nah, for once I’m lucky I’m ugly. But a pretty dude further down wuz attacked a coupla days ago. Poor fucker.”

Tama grimaced. “Bloody fags.”

“The dude in the next cell reckons it wuz a lifer who did it. He pointed him out. He’s a big scary mofo with loads of tats and a scarred face. Doesn’t look like a fag to me. I guess he pro’bly wouldn’t do guys on the outside.”

“He’s a fag if he fucks butt. I’d rather wank myself silly for the rest of my life than pork a guy.” Tama grimaced. “You look out for me and I’ll watch your back too. Okay?”

Josh smiled. “Sure ... Cool tattoo. You in a gang?”

“Yeah, I’m the leader.” Tama leaned against the wall. “Have ya seen a Seth Greenwood in here?”

“I haven’t seen him, but the guy in the next cell doesn’t ever shut the fuck up. He told me all about him over grub. Said he’s a nasty cunt. Why’d ja wanna know ‘bout him for?”

Tama couldn’t stop smiling as his brain rang with a, “Fuck yeah, I’m sorted!” His mother had told him a while back that they were going to shift Seth to another prison, because he’d caused loads of trouble. Looks like that never happened. And thank bloody hell for that.

“He’s my stepdad.”

Josh’s face broke into a smile. “Shit, you’re kidding me?”

“Nope. He’s my li’l sister’s dad.”

Josh jumped off the bunk and landed on the floor with a thud. Man, the guy was even shorter than he thought; five-foot-five at the most.

“He’s big shit in here,” Josh said. “If you can get me in with his gang, you can have the top bunk.”

“Sure, no probs.”

Tama took off his shoes and climbed up. Except for the lack of sex, maybe prison wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d thought. He lay down and closed his eyes, looking forward to seeing his stepdad.

***

Josh ambled next to Tama as they wandered across the concrete jungle where mofos worked out, others smoked, some played basketball, and the rest looked fucking bored. Tama grimaced, thinking this place was going to be like bloody groundhog day, just without any bitches to fuck.

A familiar smell made him stop in his tracks. Pocketed in a corner next to a castle-like tower, two prisoners stood hidden under a large blanket.

“Fuck, how’d they get drugs in here?” Tama asked Josh.

“I reckon it must be a guard. Don’t know which one though.”

“I’m gonna ask them.”

Josh grabbed his arm. “I wouldn’t do that. They do other things under the blankets too.”

“Like what?”

“Take a
stab
in the dark.”

“How would I…” Tama screwed up his face. “Oh fuck, that’s gross. And the guards let ‘em get away with it?”

“I guess so.” Josh let go of Tama’s arm. “And I don’t blame ‘em. I wouldn’t wanna go anywhere near that shit either.”

“Yeah,
shit’s
the right word.” Tama glanced back at the two blokes. “But, those two don’t look like they’re banging each other? There’s no movement under there.”

“I still wouldn’t risk it,” Josh said, walking off.

Tama followed him. No way was he going to be caught holding a blanket—even for drugs. He didn’t want anyone thinking he was a poof.

Three prisoners sitting on a bench stopped playing cards, their eyes locking onto Tama as he walked past. Tama sneered at them. He went to raise his middle finger.

Josh whacked his hand down. “Don’t fuckin’ do that. The dude with the scar is the one I told ja ‘bout.” He whispered. “The butt jockey.”

“I don’t care who he is. Him and his mates were eyeballing my arse.”

“That’s why we should’ve stuck to my corner. No one bothers me there.”

“I’m not hiding from anyone.”

Tama glanced back as one of the mofos stood up and indicated with his head for his mates to follow. Tama stopped in his tracks. “No, he didn’t just do that?”

“What’d he do?” Josh glanced over his shoulder. His face did the spook look again.

“If he wants my arse he’s in for a fuckin’ fight.” Tama stomped towards the leader who was a good few inches taller than him. “What’re you lookin’ at, fucker?”

The big fag looked amused. “You’re definitely Tama.”

“How the hell do ya know my name?”

The guy extended a hand. “I’m Nick.”

Tama eyed the spider-web tattoo on Nick’s hand. There was no way he was touching him. He clenched a fist, getting ready to give the guy a blowjob with his knuckles.

Nick retracted his hand. “You’re exactly like he said you’d be.”

“Who’s the
he
you’re talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Your stepdad.”

“Fuckin’A!” Tama looked around him. “Where is he?”

“Busy. You’re gonna come and sit with us. Your li’l friend can come too.”

Tama called Josh over, then followed the others to the bench. Everyone sat except for Tama. He smiled down at the short squat guy. “You look like a chunk stain I know on the outside.”

The others started laughing.

“I don’t care who you are!” The guy stood up. “Speak to me like that again and I’ll floor ya.”

“Chill, Sammy,” Nick said. “Unless you wanna deal with Seth.”

The guy sat down, his expression livid.

Tama smiled at him. “Your name really Sammy?”

“He just said it, didn’t he?”

“My mate’s called Samuel.”

“You’re pullin’ my tits.”

“Nope ... but we call him Naf, cos he’s a fuckin’ klutz.”

“Well, I’m no klutz, so stop pissing me off or I’ll send ya cryin’ to ya stepdaddy.”

Tama sneered at him. “As if.”

“He ain’t bullshittin’ ya,” Nick said. “He’ll Jujitsu your arse.”

Tama nodded with respect. “Black belt?”

“Yep, otherwise
Cry Baby
would’ve brown-toed me by now,” Sammy answered.

The guy with the teardrop tattoos pulled a cigarette out of his mouth. “You ain’t pretty enough.”

Tama looked at the guy wearily. Except for a blanket draped around his broad shoulders, he was dressed like everyone else in prison greys. The guy grinned at Tama, displaying a row of stained teeth. He looked in his early forties, the jagged scar down his right cheek nasty.

“You a faggot or sumpthin’…” Tama’s gaze shifted to the teardrops under the guy’s left eye. Because one of his favourite rap artists had the same tats, he knew they symbolised something different in America. But this guy didn’t sound American. So why the hell was his stepdad hanging out with a paedophile?

“Only if I see an arse that can pass off as a bitch’s.”

Tama pointed a finger at him. “Try to fuck me and I’ll kill ya.”

“I’d never do you.” The guy looked past Tama. “Now that bitch over there I’d definitely do,” he sniggered. “I reckon he’d scream nice for me.”

“You’re a sick bastard, Chaz,” Nick snapped.

Chaz extended a finger at Nick. “Until you’ve been in here for almost ten fuckin’ years, keep your mouth shut.”

“Being in here ain’t got nuthin’ to do with it. You prefer guys—”

“I had a wife before prison.”

“Yeah, you killed her.”

“That was an accident! And she attacked me.”

“Cos you were raping her child!”

Tama screwed up his face. “How the fuck could ja do that to a li’l kid?”

Chaz looked up at Tama. “He wasn’t little, he was fifteen.”

“That’s still a kid!” Nick spat. “You make me sick. If it wuzn’t for your bro, I’d slit your throat in a second.” He stood up and stormed off.

“I can make you sicker if you’d just open your mouth when I ask ya to!” Chaz yelled.

Nick flicked him the finger and kept on walking.

“Look.” Sammy sniggered. “Your new bitch is comin’ this way, Chaz. Maybe you two can cuddle under your blanky?”

“Suck me.” Chaz pulled off the blanket.

Tama glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened as Zane stopped and gaped at him. Tama started to laugh. Fuck, he was having a shitload of luck today.

He indicated for Chaz with his head. “He shot my cuz. I’ll give you full rein to pork his skinny arse.” Tama grinned at Zane. “And tell me if he squeals like his bitch did for me.”

Zane backed away.

“So, he’s the bastard who hurt Mikey?” Chaz said.

“Yeah, how do ya know my cuz?”

Chaz flicked his cigarette away. “I’ve never met the boy, but Seth’s my brother.”

Tama studied Chaz. How the hell could he have missed it before? The guy looked like an older and rougher version of his stepdad with his pale-blue eyes and sandy-brown hair. He hadn’t known his stepdad had a brother, but he could see why Seth had hidden it. He wouldn’t want anyone knowing the sick freak was related to him either.

Chaz swung the blanket around his shoulders and stood up. “I’m gonna make you scream, boy,” he said, heading for Zane. “Just like Ash.”

*****

Thank you for reading the first book in my new series.

Look for
Behind the Tears
in 2012

*****

About the Author

Marita A. Hansen
was born in New Zealand, where
Behind the Hood
is based. Marita loves to write, compose compicturistic art, coach youth football, and referee the occasional match.