Prisoned Series Box Set

by Marni Mann

  I stood, moving over to the door. “I’ve got to come look at the schedule. I need a date for when I can head back to Miami.”

  He walked with me into the hallway, grinning like a clown. “You got it hard for her.”

  “For them.” I laughed. “Can’t have one without the other, I guess.”

  “Two pussies? Are you fucking kidding me?” He grabbed his nuts. “I’m hard from just thinking about it.”

  “Don’t get all crazy yet. There’s gonna be rules and shit, and I don’t know how it’s going to work out.” I entered my code into the entrance of the prison.

  “But, man, that’s still two pussies. Two mouths. Two assholes.”

  “And one cock.”

  He paused on the first step. “I changed my mind. You go handle shit. I’ll relieve you in a little bit.”

  “Round two?”

  “You know it.”

  As he walked through the door, back into the house, I said, “Can you do me a favor?”

  He turned around and stared at me. “Yeah. Anything.”

  I had lied to that pregnant bitch when I told her I would be the one to kill her. Shank was the one who always tortured women. It was just his thing, and Diego and I didn’t mind. He didn’t rape them. But their helplessness and cries turned him on, and he liked to beat off and come on their skin.

  “You know that cunt down in cell twelve?” I asked. “The pregnant one?”

  His smile told me he’d noticed how hot she was and the heavy rack on her chest. “Yep.”

  “What’s she in for?”

  “Don’t know. We weren’t told. The client just wants her dead.”

  That wasn’t out of the ordinary. Half of the time, we weren’t told the reason or given any information to find out during our beatings.

  Not sure why, but I wished I knew what she had done to land herself in here.

  “Don’t be nice to her,” I said.

  The look in his eyes changed.

  It was a glare I was familiar with because it was the same expression I wore when I heard the screams. The same one Diego had when he worked with rope.

  In this prison, we weren’t just guards.

  We were fucking animals.

  “I’ll make you real proud,” he said.

  And then the door slammed closed.

  Seventeen

  Tyler

  Four Years and Six Months Ago

  I needed a break. From work, from school, from the girls. Even from Wynter and Mina. Just a night away from it all where I could soak up a little silence and turn my brain off.

  I always had to be on—smiling, acting, planning my next move. There was hardly any downtime, no switch where I could turn it all off.

  I missed that.

  So, these breaks became my off.

  I wouldn’t take them all that often. Every few months or so. But, when the urge hit, I would go to the same dive bar, sit on one of the stools, and drink cheap beer until I hiccuped. Then, I’d take a taxi back to my apartment, pass out, and go to work the next evening. I never told anyone where I went. I certainly never asked anyone to come with me. And I never got in trouble for not checking in.

  Mina gave the girls space as long as it wasn’t disrespected.

  After Wynter’s warning, I never broke one of the rules, nor had I asked for an exception.

  I moved over to my closet and searched for the rattiest pair of jeans I owned. I slipped them on along with a worn sweater and a pair of Chucks. Even with holes, ripped hems, and splatters that looked like paint, the outfit had still cost almost five hundred dollars.

  God, life was so different than it had been at the beginning of my freshman year.

  Now, I lived in an off-campus two-bedroom apartment, right next door to Wynter. We’d lasted only a year in the dorms, and that was because of the need for more space. And also for privacy. We had worried that getting dropped off in the limo so many nights a week would start raising questions. So, Wynter and I’d found rentals, side by side to each other. It kept us close. And, on nights like tonight, I could slip out without getting asked where I was going.

  The bar was about ten blocks away, close enough where I could walk before drinking any beer but definitely not after I’d had a couple. It was a hidden gem in this city, tucked between a dry cleaner and a nail salon. I wasn’t sure if it even had a name. I knew it didn’t have a menu. The first time I’d asked for one, the bartender had laughed at me and told me to order whatever I wanted. If he didn’t have it, he’d substitute. He’d said the same thing when I mentioned I was hungry.

  Now, when I went, I would get a cheeseburger and fries and whatever light beer they had on tap.

  The same bartender was always working, and for some reason, he remembered me. When I sat down, he said, “Your usual?”

  “Please,” I replied, wiggling my butt over the hard wood, trying to find a comfortable spot.

  All the stools in front of the bar were different. I was sure that was because they’d been purchased from a secondhand shop. This place wasn’t vintage or even rustic. It was dirty as hell and disheveled.

  I loved it.

  He set the draft beer in front of me, pulling his hand back to wipe his nose. “Burger will take a few minutes. You want some popcorn in the meantime?”

  They weren’t known for their sanitation either.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  When he handed me the basket, I dived in and filled my mouth with the salty deliciousness. A few pieces fell onto the bar, and I ate them, too, not caring that the surface probably hadn’t ever been washed.

  That was the best thing about this place; I didn’t have to care about anything.

  I didn’t wipe my mouth when I felt a kernel hanging there or bother to put on lipstick or remember everything I’d said while trying not to actually say too much.

  I could just be me.

  Even though I wasn’t sure who that person was anymore.

  I just knew the lack of makeup and heels and strapless bras and pretending was a really nice change.

  “Going down quick tonight, eh?” the bartender said, refilling my empty glass and setting it back in front of me.

  “It’s the salt,” I lied. “It makes the beer go down easy.”

  The truth was, I just wanted a buzz.

  Rather than responding, the bartender slid over to the guy next to me who had just taken a seat.

  “What can I getcha?” he asked my neighbor.

  The man requested a beer I’d never heard of, which wasn’t a surprise since the only time I drank the stuff was when I was here. I wasn’t allowed to have it when I worked. Mina had said it was tacky to drink beer in front of the marks. The type of men we dealt with preferred women who sipped wine or liquor.

  So many rules.

  “Popcorn?” the bartender asked my neighbor.

  I felt a pair of eyes on me, and it wasn’t the bartender’s. I slowly shifted my gaze to the right, meeting a set so dark, I stared even longer to try and find his pupils.

  “Popcorn any good?” my neighbor asked.

  Still no pupils. Just darkness.

  And his voice. I’d never heard anything like it. Deep, demanding, gritty.

  I forced myself to look at the basket in front of me and take another bite. “It’s fine.”

  “I’ll skip the popcorn,” Dark Eyes said.

  “She’s having a burger,” the bartender said. “Wanna try that instead?”

  It took Dark Eyes a few seconds to respond, “Make it rare with sharp cheese and some fries.”

  “You got it,” the bartender answered.

  He went into the kitchen, so now, the two of us were completely alone.

  Mina had downloaded an app on my cell phone that tracked my whereabouts. It was to protect us while we worked. On the nights I came here, I didn’t want to be protected, and I didn’t want her to know where I was. So, I would leave my phone on my nightstand, and if Mina checked my location, it would appear as though I
were sleeping. But, with no phone to play with, I had nothing to do besides listen to Dark Eyes breathe.

  He wasn’t a loud breather. He wasn’t silent either. He just made enough noise that I knew how close he was. And that closeness came with a feeling. It was like a tug. Something that made me turn my head just slightly and take a peek.

  I was surprised to find he wasn’t on his phone, nor was he watching the TV that played above the bar. He had grabbed the newspaper that I was pretty sure the bartender used to swat flies with, and he was reading the front page.

  With his attention on something other than me, it gave me a second to really check him out. His hair was long and nutty brown, hanging below his shoulders, and he had multiple tattoos. There were letters across his knuckles, but his fingers were bent in a way where I couldn’t tell what they spelled. More ink was on his hands and wrists, but his long sleeves prevented me from seeing if there was more.

  “Do you want the Sports section? I’m not going to read it.”

  I laughed, mostly out of nerves because he had caught me staring and partly because I wasn’t shocked to hear sports wasn’t his thing. He had a grunge, rock ’n’ roll vibe going on. He definitely didn’t seem the type who would be tossing around the football during a backyard barbeque.

  “No, thanks,” I answered. “I’m not interested in that section either.”

  I still couldn’t find his pupils. That meant, I still didn’t know exactly what he was looking at even though I could feel it was me.

  And the feeling was more intense than it should be.

  I liked it. Yet I was equally terrified of it.

  “What section do you want then?”

  My lips parted, and I had to force the words out, my throat feeling much thicker than normal. “I’m good. I don’t feel like reading tonight.”

  I did enough of that for the two classes I took and the files I had to memorize on each of my marks.

  He turned his head, his focus now back on the newspaper, mine on the empty basket of popcorn in front of me. There wasn’t anything to shove in my mouth, nothing to play with on the bar top, not a thing to occupy my attention besides Dark Eyes. And, if I stared at him any more, I was afraid it would lead to conversation. And, if that happened, I worried it would be obvious how hot I thought he was.

  I could have as many thoughts as I wanted.

  I just couldn’t act on them.

  Not ever.

  “This should fill you up,” the bartender said, placing the burger and fries in front of me.

  His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He also remembered to give me a bottle of ketchup and a small bowl of ranch for my fries.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled with half of the pickle in my mouth.

  “Another beer?”

  I nodded and cut the burger in half, shoveling in my first bite.

  Wynter, Mina, and I would eat at some really nice restaurants around San Diego. The two of them might not eat a lot in quantity, but everything they put in their mouths was of the finest quality. Fancy food wasn’t really my thing. The thought of raw fish going down my throat made my stomach churn, I didn’t have the taste for seafood, soup didn’t fill me up, and the spiky purple lettuce that came in salads made me want to gag. So, when I went out with them, all I would eat was meat. I’d had some of the most expensive burgers in this city, and the best ones were at places like this.

  And this burger fucking rocked.

  “Looks good,” Dark Eyes said.

  In here, I didn’t put the napkin on my lap or wipe my mouth after each bite. I picked up my beer with my greasy fingers and took a sip. Then, once I swallowed, I looked at him.

  “It’s awesome.” I felt a glob of ketchup on the corner of my lip. “I know it’s there.” I tongued around the spot. “I’ll get to it.”

  I didn’t know why I was goading him into small talk or why I was pointing out the mess around my mouth. I needed to keep my lips shut, get the burger in my stomach, and get home before I said another word.

  “Get to it, leave it—I don’t care. I’ve been looking at your burger because I’m fucking starving, and I want to know when the bartender is going to deliver mine.”

  That voice again. Good God. It was like I was the meat, and his words were gnawing into me.

  I turned back to my plate, staring at the ketchup-coated disaster I’d made. “It’s worth the wait.”

  “There’s this place down by the bay. Shit, what’s the name of it?”

  I peeked at him while I chomped.

  “Rudy’s, it’s called. They’ve got the best burgers in the city.”

  I shoved in a fry and pushed it to the side of my mouth, so I could say, “Is it a place like this?”

  “Worse.” He picked up his beer and held it toward the light. “At least they use clean glasses here.”

  “Mmm, my kinda place.” I laughed.

  “Here you go, buddy,” the bartender said, setting the burger and fries in front of him. “Ketchup, ranch?”

  “All of it.”

  Dark Eyes got in his first bite, and I watched him, waiting for his response.

  “Oh, hell, you’re right. This is good.”

  “Told you,” I said, my mouth full again.

  The bartender returned with a whole plate of condiments and refilled my empty beer. When Dark Eyes got low on fries, the bartender brought him more even though he hadn’t asked for it.

  “I’ll be coming back here,” he said when we were alone.

  “It’s become my favorite. But I’m going to check out that place, Rudy’s. Seems like I’d like it there, too.”

  He didn’t say another word as he ate. Neither did I. And, because I’d had a head start, I finished before him. With nothing left to inhale, I finally took the napkin and wiped my face. The amount of ketchup I removed from my mouth was almost embarrassing.

  “One more?” the bartender asked as he held up my glass.

  “Just one,” I answered. “Don’t let me have any more after that.”

  The burger helped, but I definitely had a buzz.

  “How about you?” the bartender asked Dark Eyes.

  “Yeah, I’ll take another.”

  I was only a few sips into the cold draft when I started to hiccup.

  It was a sign that I needed to get out of here.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. It was the same amount I brought every time I came here, so I knew it would cover what I’d ordered and leave him with a seventy-dollar tip. I slapped the cash on top of the bar and turned around.

  “Tell me you’re not driving,” Dark Eyes said as I slid to the floor.

  I had planned on taking a cab, but maybe the cool air would help settle some of the thoughts in my head. Thoughts of this gorgeous man and all the wonderful, dominating things his hands could do to my body.

  “Nope. I’m going to walk.”

  “You’re not going to do that either.”

  “Huh?” I shifted my sweater, so it showed more of my shoulder. “Like hell I’m not.” Then, I walked myself straight to the door. As I opened it, I heard movement behind me, and when I looked, he was standing there. Close. Really close. “What the fuck?”

  “Listen…”

  I couldn’t imagine what he needed to say to me or why I so desperately wanted to hear it. But, when I tried to take a step, I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t move. I was frozen until he gave me an answer.

  “Listen to what?” I asked.

  “I don’t even know your name. Miss…”

  “Cheeseburger.”

  His hand went to the top of his head, like he needed something to hold on to. “You’re not serious.”

  “No, I’m not. I just don’t see a reason to tell you anything about myself.” I hiccuped.

  “Fine, don’t tell me your name, but I’m telling you, you’re not walking home by yourself. Not at this hour. Not in this neighborhood.”

  In the daylight, this area was fine. After d
ark, it wasn’t the safest in San Diego. So, part of me understood his concern. Still, I couldn’t have him come to my place or even the front door of my building.

  “I’ll be okay,” I promised.

  “I know. Because I’m going to call you a cab.”

  “You’re definitely not going to do that.” I looked down the sidewalk, seeing the people who were walking on it. It was busy enough that I knew I’d be safe. “I’m only ten blocks away.”

  He moved through the doorway and took a few steps past me, looking over his shoulder and saying, “Then, I’ll walk with you. Or behind you. But you’re not going to be alone.”

  Somehow, he had chosen the right direction.

  Shit.

  “Really,” I said as I caught up to him, “I’ll be fine. This is unnecessary.”

  He said nothing. He just fell half a pace behind me while I hurried down the first block. He clearly was the protective type, and he wasn’t going to listen or take no for an answer. Not that he had to. The man was massive—tall, broad, muscular, the kind of body that could do large amounts of damage. So, it would feel really strange to turn around and start barking orders at him. Besides, I couldn’t pull it off anyway. I didn’t have Wynter’s personality or her attitude.

  And the truth was, I enjoyed his presence.

  Way more than I should.

  He was near me because he wanted to be. Not because I had teased him with my body, seduced him with my whispers, drugged him with a mysterious white powder. It had been a long time since someone outside The Achurdy was this close. Too long actually.

  I’d hooked up with a few of the deer, but they had been nothing more than booty calls. None of those guys wanted anything serious. They had twenty women at their disposal, and they’d been with all of them.

  This felt different than the deer’s attention.

  This felt raw.

  “Jae.” He uttered only a single word, but it had so much meaning. It was so personal in a space that was so cold.

  Even though he had finished speaking it seconds ago, it still echoed inside my body.

  Jae.

  It was a nice name. One that none of my marks had been called. For some reason, that was important.