Wicked Fallout
Pretty Wicked, #2
Pretty Wicked, #2
by Kelly Charron
Publication date: July 17th 2017
Genres: Adult, Thriller
Publication date: July 17th 2017
Genres: Adult, Thriller
“Wicked Fallout is a
twisty cat and mouse psychological thriller that will keep you turning pages
right up to the unexpected end. A creepy mix of horror and psychological
insight, Charron takes you into the mind of a killer and doesn’t let go.”
~Eileen Cook, Author of WITH MALICE
~Eileen Cook, Author of WITH MALICE
BLURB
Convicted of six murders when she
was just fifteen, the notorious Ryann Wilkanson hasn’t been able to act on her
darkest, deadliest urges for twelve years. She’s exhausted her appeals and has
little hope of ever getting out of prison and back to hunting.
Until a media-hungry legal team
mounts a campaign to do the impossible—get her immediately released with a
commuted sentence.
Forensic psychiatrist Nancy
Clafin has mere weeks to evaluate Ryann’s current mental state against her
grisly past to determine if she’s changed. But under the shadow of her own
questionable history, it’s not easy to separate her personal life from her
professional duty.
At least that’s what Ryann is
counting on.
Behind the cold steel doors of a
Colorado maximum-security prison, will Nancy find a cold-blooded killer or a
newly redeemed woman determined to right her past wrongs?
**This novel can be enjoyed
as a standalone or as part of the Pretty Wicked series.
Buy Links:
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo
EXCERPT:
I
spin around and see two women rolling on the ground, hair flying. Fights are a
pretty rare occurrence, but when they happen it’s nasty. I once read that men
fight to injure, but women fight to kill.
Sounds
accurate.
The
women roll closer to our table, and we all jerk out of the way in case some of
the action heads toward us. I can hardly see who it is, but Georgina is quick
to say it’s Roxie and Jinx. And they are going at each other: hands whacking,
hair pulling, face slapping, and rib kicking. The whole nine. But it doesn’t go
on for too long. Two guards descend on them, yanking the women apart. Some
damage is already done. Jinx has a bloody nose and a swelling eye, and Roxie’s
lip is split open.
“Fuck,
man. Did you see that? Roxie almost killed the bitch! Bam!” Margot slams her
hand on the table and my head rings. Jodi laughs. Must be nice for her to sit
back and chuckle, since she’s never actually fought in here.
“Enough,
Margot, or the guards are gonna be over here next.” Steph eyes her and Margot
settles down.
The
cafeteria is returning to normal so we sit again, and I try to force a spoonful
of my cold, lumpy lunch down. It takes all my concentration to swallow the
disgusting mouthful. My stomach clenches, so I drop my spoon.
“No
offense, princess, but you look like shit,” Georgina says in between shovels.
She’s a fat pig. No matter how disgusting the food is in here, don’t take your
eyes off your plate or it’ll be in her goddamn mouth before you know what’s
happening.
I
lock my gaze on her. “Thanks. Just giving you a chance to feel a bit better
about your ugly ass.”
She
shoots me the finger.
“Seriously,
you look pale, like even more than normal,” Stephanie chimes in, sounding far
too motherly for my liking.
I
smile. “Thanks, ladies. You sure are the fucking cheer committee today.”
“This
shrink is really taking the piss outta you, huh? I ain’t never seen you so
frazzled before,” Jodi says.
“I’m
just tired. Been sleeping like shit, the food is inedible, and yes, talking in
circles about your feelings is agony. So I’m taking donations—any booze, pills,
or weed is welcome.” Most of what I say is bravado. Keeping up appearances is
key to survival in this hellhole. I can’t afford to get caught with any
contraband in case a miracle happens and I have a chance of getting out. What a
kick in the tit that would be, if I got approved only to have a stupid joint
found in my bunk.
“We’re
all suffering in here, princess, so buck up.” Georgina braces her gigantic
noggin on top of her propped arms.
It
takes all my strength to stay calm. Sometimes people in here forget what I’m
capable of. Maybe some of them don’t believe in my history and are willing to
take a chance by coming at me.
Too
bad I’m on my best behavior.
Margot
puts a hand in Georgina’s face. “Lay off her, Gina. Ain’t none of us know what
being examined under a microscope like that feels like. I know I’d be stressed
to fucking shit if my whole future relied on talking to one damn bitch for a
couple of weeks.”
“Thanks,
Margot, but you don’t have to defend me.”
“Yeah,
princess is a big girl. She can take care of herself, or so she wants us to
think.”
I
glower at her and swallow the scream that threatens to explode out of me. I’m
afraid if I release it, I’ll never stop. “You got something to say?” I sit on
my hands. Just in case I’m a little too tempted to gouge her eyes out.
Georgina
stands up from her spot at the table across from me and walks around to my
side. “Actually, yeah. I think you’re a fucking weak-ass bitch who ain’t no one
afraid of in here, especially not me. You walk around all high and mighty,
thinking you’re better than us, smarter and prettier than us, but guess
what—you in here just like the fucking rest of us, and I ain’t scared by your
supposed past.” She makes finger quotations an inch from my face.
I
stand. We’re eye to eye. I can feel her hot, stinky breath on my face. Her
finger jabs me in the chest. My blood fills my ears and I can’t hear much past
the intense rushing. I clench my fists at my sides. Ready. I want her to come
at me so badly. “Is that so? You gonna do something about it then?” I say,
smacking her finger away from me. My eyes narrow on her acne-scarred face.
Before
I can register what’s happening, I feel her two bony hands dig into my chest.
The air is pushed out and I gasp. My legs tremble. Teeth clench.
It
only takes me a second to leap onto her. Her fingers are entwined in my hair
and I can feel the pressure as she yanks. I elbow her, and she lets go. The top
of my hand swings across her cheek and I hear a loud slapping sound. Her head
flies back, her arms wave wildly as she tries to grab a hold of me, but my
adrenaline is pumping so hard that I don’t feel anything. My hands find their
way to her neck. I squeeze and squeeze. Teeth gritting.
The
power of my fingers pressing into the flesh of her neck makes me shiver with
excitement. It feels like I can breathe for the first time since that day in
the library all those years ago.
I
have tunnel vision. I only see her eyes rolling back and her mouth attempting
to suck in air. My heartbeat increases in my ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. My
hands and wrists must be aching, but I don’t feel them.
Her
arms keep flailing. Her fingers attempt to dig at my face. I don’t feel that
either, I just keep pressing my hands into her. Squeezing. I wonder how much
longer until she dies. I’m tingling all over.
And
then I feel hands on me—pulling and yanking me off her. I fight harder, and
then so do the hands.
My
grasp is broken. I’m being lifted into the air. I’m screaming and swearing. I’m
shaking, ferocious with rage. It’s a sensation from a time very long ago, yet
it’s so familiar to me.
A
man’s gruff voice breaks into my trance. My arms are twisted behind my back
where I’m cuffed. Tightly. “That’s enough, Wilkanson! You’re done! You’re
done!”
Now
that I’m off her, I realize in a sobering moment that he might not be talking
about just the fight. A hurtling wave of nausea makes my stomach twist and my
mouth water.
I
may have just ruined any chance I ever had to get out of here.
***
I’m
whisked away by two guards who throw me into solitary.
They
aren’t gentle with me as they literally launch me inside the room. I’ve never
been in here before, but I’ve heard enough horror stories to know I never
wanted to see it. I land on the ground with a thud. My bones vibrate from the
motion. My arms are sore and bruised above my elbows where I was manhandled.
“I
got to say, I’m surprised to see you in here, Wilkanson. There goes your
perfect record. Was it worth it?” The guard, Han, shakes his head. He looks
like a disappointed daddy and not some guy who’s getting underpaid to deal with
us lowlifes.
I
remain quiet, as is my right. It’s about the only thing I can control in here.
The
other guard that has kindly accompanied me to the hole is Rickers. Unlike Han,
has a smug smile on his face, like he’s been waiting for this moment with a
lousy fifty bucks riding on it.
Han
spins me around and unlocks the handcuffs. My wrists are sore from being forced
into the cold, hard metal. I rub them, trying to get the circulation back into
my hands. My brain finally registers where I am as I look around the
closet-sized room. There’s nothing in here but a sweat- stained pad on the
floor and a disgusting dirty blanket that I wouldn’t touch for fear of
contracting scabies or countless other contagious diseases.
“Someone
will be in later to bring you to your hearing. Do you want anyone else there
with you?” Rickers asks.
“What
do you mean? I don’t understand what’s happening,” I say, and it’s the truth.
I’ve never committed an offense before. My anger has dwindled, and I’m left in
a state of confusion and shock. My body trembles. I can even feel my ribs
shaking. What did I fucking do?
Han
stands tall, shoulders squared, with his hand on his baton. He looks like he’s
ready to take down a linebacker and not some hundred-and-ten-pound chick.
“You’ll be taken in to see an adjudicator. You can bring in witnesses if you
think it’ll help your case. You’ll tell them what happened and plead guilty or
not guilty of the offense—in this case, assaulting a fellow inmate.”
“But
Georgina started it. She hit me first!” Ugh. I hear the pitiful whine in my
voice and I wonder how I suddenly became a petulant child. I need to get my
shit together before the hearing if I have any hope in hell of being taken
seriously. “Can you ask Stephanie Harvey and Jodi Brown to come? They were
there.”
“We’ll
see what we can do,” Han says.
“So
what, I have to stay in here until then? How long does this hearing take to set
up?” I ask. My palms are slick, and I wipe them on the thighs of my pants.
“It
could be a few hours.”
“Oh,
great,” I exhale, relieved.
“Or
it could be tomorrow,” Rickers adds.
My
eyes and mouth widen. “What? You mean to tell me that I could be stuck in this
hell
hole
overnight?” My mind reels. My bunk is shitty, but it’s the Westin compared to
this hovel. “That’s right.” Rickers smiles. “Shoulda thought about that before
you tried to kill someone in here.” He walks out with Han right behind him.
My
hand goes up and I wave for them to stop. “No, wait. You can’t leave me.”
Han
takes another step away. “I’m afraid we can, and just in case we’re not back
today, sleep tight.” The hefty steel door slams shut. The sound reverberates,
echoing painfully in my ears. I’m dizzy. The walls look like they’re getting
closer. The air is cold and stale. My stomach turns over.
Think,
Ryann. Lunch was served at one o’clock. The fight happened just after, which
puts it around two. There’s got to be enough time to get a judge or adjudicator
to see me. What if the warden won’t let Steph and Jodi out to testify for me?
I
need water. My mouth is so dry.
Surely
someone will come soon. In twelve years at this prison, I’ve never so much as
hid a candy bar I wasn’t supposed to have. I don’t deserve this.
Fighting
is a major infraction. Georgina wanted this. This was probably her fucking plan
the entire time.
What
the fuck did I do?
Buy Links:
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo
Author Info
Kelly Charron is the author of YA
and adult horror, psychological thrillers and urban fantasy novels. All with
gritty, murderous inclinations and some moderate amounts of humor. She spends
far too much time consuming true crime television (and chocolate) while trying
to decide if yes, it was the husband, with the wrench, in the library. She
lives with her husband and cat, Moo Moo, in Vancouver, British Columbia.
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