Free If Tomorrow Comes by Sidney Sheldon Page A

locked up, Papa?
    Her father laughed. No, Tracy. They have a wonderful life. They’re taken care of and fed, and their enemies can’t get at them.
    They looked unhappy to Tracy. She wanted to open their cages and let them out. I wouldn’t ever want to be locked up like that , Tracy thought.
    At 8:45 the warning bell rang throughout the prison. Tracy’s cell mates began to undress. Tracy did not move.
    Lola said, “You got fifteen minutes to get ready for bed.”
    The women had stripped and put on nightgowns. The per-oxided-blond matron passed the cell. She stopped when she saw Tracy lying on her cot.
    “Get undressed,” she ordered. She turned to Ernestine. “Didn’t you tell her?”
    “Yeah. We tol’ her.”
    The matron turned back to Tracy. “We got a way of takin’ care of troublemakers,” she warned. “You do what you’re told here, or I’ll bust your ass.” The matron moved down the hall.
    Paulita cautioned, “You better listen to her, baby. Old Iron Pants is one mean bitch.”
    Slowly, Tracy rose and began to undress, keeping her back to the others. She took off all her clothes, with the exception of her panties, and slipped the coarse nightgown over her head. She felt the eyes of the other women on her.
    “You got a real nice body,” Paulita commented.
    “Yeah, real nice,” Lola echoed.
    Tracy felt a shiver go through her.
    Ernestine moved over to Tracy and looked down at her. “We’re your friends. We gonna take good care of you.” Her voice was hoarse with excitement.
    Tracy wildly jerked around. “Leave me alone! All of you. I’m—I’m not that way.”
    The black woman chuckled. “You’ll be any way we want you to be, baby.”
    “Hay tiempo. There’s plenty of time.”
    The lights went out.
    The dark was Tracy’s enemy. She sat on the edge of her bunk, her body tense. She could sense the others waiting to pounce on her. Or was it her imagination? She was so over-wroughtthat everything seemed to be a threat. Had they threatened her? Not really. They were probably just trying to be friendly, and she had read sinister implications into their overtures. She had heard about homosexual activity in prisons, but that had to be the exception rather than the rule. A prison would not permit that sort of behavior.
    Still, there was a nagging doubt. She decided she would stay awake all night. If one of them made a move, she would call for help. It was the responsibility of the guards to see that nothing happened to the inmates. She reassured herself that there was nothing to worry about. She would just have to stay alert.
    Tracy sat on the edge of her bunk in the dark, listening to every sound. One by one she heard the three women go to the toilet, use it, and return to their bunks. When Tracy could stand it no longer, she made her way to the toilet. She tried to flush it, but it did not work. The stench was almost unbearable. She hurried back to her cot and sat there. It will be light soon , she thought. In the morning I’ll ask to see the warden. I’ll tell him about the baby. He’ll have me moved to another cell.
    Tracy’s body was tense and cramped. She lay back on her bunk and within seconds felt something crawling across her neck. She stifled a scream. I’ve got to stand it until morning. Everything will be all right in the morning , Tracy thought. One minute at a time.
    At 3:00 she could no longer keep her eyes open. She slept.
    She was awakened by a hand clamped across her mouth and two hands grabbing at her breasts. She tried to sit up and scream, and she felt her nightgown and underpants being ripped away. Hands slid between her thighs, forcing her legs apart. Tracy fought savagely, struggling to rise.
    “Take it easy,” a voice in the dark whispered, “and you won’t get hurt.”
    Tracy lashed out at the voice with her feet. She connected with solid flesh.
    “Carajo! Give it to the bitch,” the voice gasped. “Get her on the floor!”
    A hard fist smashed into Tracy’s