Danielle Steel - Malice

When the bed was made, she climbed up and sat on it, and she just sat there, staring at the door, wondering what would happen next, or how bad it would be when she met her roommate. It was obvious what her preferences were from the photographs on the walls, and Grace was braced for the worst, but she was surprised when a sour-looking woman in her late forties was let into the cell two hours later. She glanced up at Grace, and said not a word. She paused for one long instant, looking at her, and there was no denying that Grace was beautiful, but her cellmate didn't look impressed, and it was fully half an hour later before she said hello and that her name was Sally.

“I don't want no shit in here,” she said tersely to Grace, “no funny stuff, no visitors from the gangs, no porno, no drugs. I been here seven years. I got my friends and I keep my nose clean. You do the same and we'll be fine, you give me a pain and I'll kick your ass from here to D Block. Got that nice and clear?”

“Yes,” Grace nodded breathlessly. Her chest had been getting tighter and tighter since that morning, and by dinnertime, she could hardly breathe. She was wheezing badly and they had taken her inhaler away from her when she arrived.

“You need help, you call a guard,” she'd been told, but she didn't want to do that unless she really had to. She would die first before calling attention to herself, but as they blew the whistle for chow, and she got off her bunk, Sally saw that Grace was in trouble.

“Oh Christ … looks like I got me a baby. Look, I hate kids. I never had any. I never wanted any. And I don't now. You gotta take care of yourself here.” Grace noticed as she looked down at her as Sally put on a clean shirt that her back, chest, and arms were covered with tattoos, but in some ways she was a relief to Grace. She was fully prepared to mind her own business.

“I'm fine … really …” she wheezed, but she could barely breathe by then, and Sally watched her as she fought for air. She needed her inhaler desperately, and she didn't have it.

“Sure you are. Just sit down. I'll take care of it … this time …” She looked vastly annoyed as she buttoned her shirt and kept her eye on Grace, who was deathly pale as the guard unlocked the door for dinner. Sally signaled to him before he could move on, and waved vaguely at Grace, standing in the corner. “My fish is having a little problem,” she said quietly, “looks like asthma or something, can I run her to sick bay?”

“Sure, if you want, Sally. You think she's fakin’ it?” But when they looked at her again, Grace looked more gray than pale by then, and it was obvious that her distress was real. Even her lips were faintly blue. “Nice of you to play nursemaid, Sal,” the guard teased. Sally was known to be one of the hardest women in the prison. She didn't take shit from anyone, and she was in for two counts of murder. She had murdered her girlfriend on the outside, and the woman she'd been cheating with. “It lets people know how I think,” she always explained to the women she was involved with. But she had had the same lover in C Block for the past three years. Everyone in the place knew they were as good as married, and no one ever crossed Sally.

“Come on,” she said to Grace over her shoulder, and then shoved her out of the cell with a look of annoyance. “I'll take you to the nurse, but don't pull this shit on me again. You got a problem, you handle it. I ain't gonna wipe your ass for you, kid, just because you're my cellmate.”

“I'm sorry,” Grace said, her eyes brimming with tears. It was not a great beginning, and the woman was clearly pissed at her. At least that was what Grace thought. She didn't know that the older woman felt sorry for her. It was obvious even to her that Grace didn't belong there.

Five minutes later, she left Grace with the nurse, as she continued to gasp for air. The nurse gave her oxygen, and finally relented and decided to let her have, and keep, her inhaler. She wasn't going to be worth the trouble she caused if they didn't. But this time, they had to give her some other medication as well, because the attack had gotten too far out of hand in the past half hour. Grace knew only too well that without her medicine, she could die from suffocation. But at this point, she wasn't totally convinced that that wouldn't be a blessing.

She arrived at dinner half an hour later, shaken and pale, and most of the edible food was gone, the rest was all grit and grease and bone, and the stuff no one had wanted. She wasn't hungry anyway, the asthma attack had made her feel sick, and the medicine always made her feel shaky. She was too upset to eat anyway. She wanted to thank Sally for taking her to the nurse, but she didn't dare speak to her when she saw her with a group of tough older women, covered with tattoos, and Sally gave no sign of recognition.

“What'll it be? Filet mignon, or roast duck?” a pretty black girl asked from behind the counter, and then she smiled at Grace. “Actually, I've got a couple of slices of pizza left in the back. Any interest?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Grace smiled, looking exhausted. “Thanks a lot.” The young black girl produced them for her, and watched as Grace made her way to a table.

She sat down at an empty place at a table with three other girls, no one said hello or seemed to notice her. And across the room, she could see Angela, from the bus, with a group of women, engaged in lively conversation. But this group seemed to want nothing to do with her, and she was grateful to keep to herself, and eat her slice of pizza. She was still having trouble breathing.

“My, my, what a pretty little fish you have at your table today, girls,” a voice said from behind her as she sipped her coffee. Grace didn't move when she heard the words, but she felt herself jostled by someone standing directly behind her. She tried to pretend she didn't know what was happening, and she stared straight ahead, but she could see that the other young women at her table were looking nervous. “Doesn't anyone talk around here? Christ, what a bunch of rude bitches.”

“Sorry,” one of them muttered, and then hurried away, and Grace suddenly felt a warm body pressed against the back of her head. There was no avoiding it now, she leaned forward and then turned around, and found herself looking up at an enormously tall blonde with a spectacular figure. She looked like a Hollywood version of a bad girl. She was wearing plenty of makeup, and a tight men's T-shirt that you could see through. She looked like one of Sally's pinups. She was almost a caricature of a sexy inmate.

“What a pretty girl,” the tall blonde said, looking down at her. “You lonely, baby?” her voice was a sensual purr, as she seemed to press her pelvis toward Grace as she stood there, and Grace could see now that her T-shirt was damp, which allowed everyone a clear view of her breasts and nipples. It was as though she were wearing nothing. “Why don't you come and see me sometime? My name's Brenda. Everyone knows where I live,” she said, grinning.

“Thanks.” Grace still sounded breathy from her asthma attack, and the big blonde smiled at her.

“What's your name? Marilyn Monroe?” She made fun of the way Grace had sounded.

“Sorry … asthma …”

“Oh poor baby … you take anything for it?” She sounded concerned and Grace didn't want to be rude and get her angry. The big blonde was tough and sure of herself, and she looked to be about thirty.

“Yeah … I've got an inhaler.” She pulled it out of her pocket and showed her.

“Take good care of it.” She laughed then, and tweaked the tip of Grace's breast before sauntering off to her buddies.

Grace was shaking as the other girl walked away, and she stared down into her coffee, thinking about all of them. It was truly a jungle.