"I wish that I could wake up with amnesia and forget about the stupid little things," Amnesia written by Benji and Joel Madden from Good Charlotte

I may not have had much leverage –Hayden could go back into his evil mode if he really didn't want Starling to come with us— but I had to try. I swept my arm forward letting Starling know he was to go first. Flashing his pearly white teeth, he turned his back on me and walked through the passageway towards Hayden's study. I started to follow but noticed Hayden had moved towards Harper again. He reached out for her but Harper flinched away from him. Hayden's jaw tightened and he dropped his outstretched hand before turning towards me.

"Let's be done with this," he said, sounding tired.

At least we could agree on one thing.

The minute I entered Hayden's office, Starling threw the gaudy red, black, and white uniform I'd glimpsed earlier at my face. I just managed to catch the material before it actually hit me. I frowned and glanced at the skirt and jacket.

Maybe it wasn't just for show.

The fresh scent of new, clean clothes wasn't something I got to smell all the time, but the trimming on the skirt was a completely new beast to me. I frowned and pushed the side of the black jacket out of the way to get a better look. "What is this black stuff?" I asked, glancing up.

Starling's green eyes reflected in the Chinese Dragon mirror as he fixed his hair. "It's lace."

"This is lace? Why is there lace again?"

Starling made eye contact with me through the mirror and a shiver trailed down my spine at the serious look on his face. It was Hayden that answered.

"New prisoners are on display the first few days for the other inmates."

I turned. "On display?" On display my ass. "So, what you mean is, I'm paraded around in this-this skanky knock-off school uniform so they can decide who gets to fuck me?"

"Well, yes actually," Hayden said with indifference. "Prisons are the biggest consumers of Phallic Tease. Did you expect something else?"

Phallic Tease was the new condom. It guaranteed safety and ultimate pleasure according to the commercials in Uptown and for those who were willing to pay.

A lump caught in my throat and I let out a groan. "Why does it have to be this?"

Starling continued to watch me from the mirror. "You're going to be picky? We could send you in there with nothing if you'd prefer."

I perked up at the offer and nodded quickly. "Yeah, I mean, I could just wear what I have on. I'd be much more comfortable."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "I meant nothing as in naked. It shows voyeuristic tendencies. The inmates and staff love voyeurs."

I gave him a defeated smile and clutched the outfit tighter to my chest. "This is good."

Starling chuckled and turned towards me. "Don't worry. We have an agent on the inside."

"Joy," I mumbled.

Hayden gently pushed me aside as he stepped around to reach for a piece of paper on his desk. "Go take your shower. Be sure to scrub everywhere. The cleaner you are the more appealing you'll be. I'll be sending Krono in for a special hair removal treatment."

So I was going to get to take a shower! "What do you mean special removal treatment? Like wax?"

Hayden nodded. "I'm afraid there's no time for lasers."

"Oh no. No, no, no. I'll just shave my legs, thank you," I said, shifting with anticipation. One good thing to come out of this was that I got to bathe and use something else besides a dull razor to shave with. Usually, Momma and Dad could only afford one shower a week for each of us. It helped that three of us, myself included, had our own incomes but water was even more expensive than chocolate.

Hayden's eyes darted up and the stare he gave made me pause. "I'm not talking about your legs."

I tried to say something, but nothing intelligent came out. I guess there's a first for everything. "Oh." I dropped a hand between my legs. "Ouch."

Twenty minutes later, after the longest shower I'd ever had in my life, Krono ushered me outside the minute she finished her torture. Her disgruntled mumble about dirt caking the floor was probably the reason she was so unhappy with me. I shot one last glance at the tiny black haired woman with unforgiving wax strips before I walked bowl-legged towards the two men waiting by a black sedan with tainted windows.

The smirk on Starling's face had my fingers itching to smack him. Hayden's face remained indifferent, for which I was thankful for. I knew this would suck, but I didn't expect the skirt to be so short on top of everything else. I pulled at the material, scratching my thigh. Lace was uncomfortable.

"Should we check? Make sure Krono didn't miss anything?" Starling suggested lazily.

I lifted my middle finger. "Take one step towards me and I'll tear out your already damaged larynx."

His grin was wide as he held his hands up in surrender. He leaned down, opened the back door to the car, and gestured forward, "Ladies first."

I'll give him a lady. My elbow accidentally connected with his gut. His distressed groan as he backed away from the door almost made this shit day better.

Every bump caused the blasted skirt to ride up my thighs. It was the one thing that remained the same here in Uptown; bumpy roads. Downtown was the slums, the ghetto... the gathering of the poor with streets made of dirt or broken concrete that the state didn't bother to fix. Rickety houses, abandon buildings, and just-making-it stores lined those roads. Most of them needed to be torn down because of bug infestations. In Uptown it was the opposite. Green grass with automatic sprinkler systems were everywhere because they could afford water and all the houses looked brand new, but no matter how often they worked on the roads the bumps the war caused seemed to stay.

I jerked my skirt down again before I spoke to the side of Hayden's face. "So what's going to happen?"

"You'll need to catch Angel's interest. He'll take you under his wing," Starling said.

Wow. I liked him even less than Hayden.

"Being Owned inside the pen isn't the same as being Owned outside. As far as I know, if you're owned in prison you share everything, including a cell but you'll have more protection. Understand that you will not survive if you're not Owned in here. You'll be fair game to everyone. You might get lucky and be able to take down two unaware guys, but three would be pushing it. So get his attention, any way you can."

"What if I can't? Let's just play that scenario," I said. I needed to know if I had any other options.

"If you can't get his attention, I'm sure he's got a gang of men and women by now. Get one of theirs."

This guy was a real genius. If he's the leader of the rebels it was no wonder they were screwed.

I sneered at him. "Wonderful plan. Angel? His name is Angel?"

Starling nodded. "We operate on codenames, and most of the time it's the only name we know each other by. My codename is Bird. Angel doesn't know my first or last name. So refer to me as Bird."

I nodded. "Okay... actually, wait, why do I have to get Angel's attention? Won't he know I'm coming?"

Hayden sucked in air through his teeth making a hissing noise. He let Starling answer, yet again. "Our guy has been in there for a year. We've lost contact with him. It's another reason why we recruited you."

Recruited. So that's what they were calling it. Eh. Whatever helps them sleep at night, I guess.

"So," I cleared my throat and scratched the auricle of my ear, "so this entire mission could be all on me. Haven't you ever heard don't play all your cards at once?"

"We're eighty percent sure Angel is still alive. He's resilient, good under pressure, and he's one of the best operatives we have," Hayden said.

Shit. He has a voice again.

"Wow, finally decided to speak up. Good of you to join this conversation about my life," I said towards Hayden and then turned my attention back to Starling. "I am not a rebel! I'm a free-lance bodyguard and even then I have back up. Look at my track record of the only three times I have ever trespassed in my life... I was caught! All three times! What makes you think I can do this if even your rebels can't survive?"

Starling rolled his neck back and forth before staring at me intensely. "I'm sure Hayden has told you. I've even told you. They won't expect you. You're young. You're female... you wear glasses for God sakes."

"Oh that makes a huge difference," I mumbled, shaking my head in disgust.

"Kender, you have no scars. You don't look like you've had a hard life-"

I scoffed. "I beg to differ."

Hayden made tsking noise. "You know what he means. We've seen your work. We spent months making sure you were the right person. You aren't just good in the martial arts. When you play chess with your father how far ahead do you let him get before you take him out? You let him think he's winning up until the very end."

I blinked before raising an eyebrow. How did he know that? "You got all that from having someone else watch me for a few months?"

He smiled at me, shaking his head. He lifted his hand to scratch at his jaw. "Harper told me that."

I clenched my teeth. My hands curled into fists. Harper, you traitor! "Being good at chess doesn't make me a master mind!"

Starling extended an arm and produced a small 8x10 picture. "Here's a photo of what Angel looks like. Now this picture is about a year old, so imagine him a little more aged than this."

I took the picture and glanced down. He was young. Too young for this, just like me. One year couldn't make that much of a difference. "How old is he?" I asked. "He looks too young for this."

"He's older than you. In this picture, he was nineteen. I kind of hope he kicks your ass. You know, for that book you threw at me. You're lucky you didn't kill me."

"My bad, next time I'll throw it harder," I mumbled under my breath as I traced a finger down the side of the photo, memorizing the curve of his cheeks, the fullness of his red lips, and the playful glint in his sparkling cerulean eyes as he smiled into the camera.

This pretty face shouldn't be too hard to find among criminals.