“Why not?” she shoots back quickly. “I’m young. I’ve got nothing better to do with my life.”
“But what are you gonna do when you’re older?” I should really just keep my questions to myself at this point. I realize that she’s probably going to get pissed off, and say, “Never mind. It’s not my business.”
“You’re right, it ain’t.” Sammy’s voice was light, even though her words were angry. “I probably won’t live that long anyway.”
I lie there for several moments, thinking about that. As a cop, I should worry about that. But I don’t, not living in Winston, anyway.
“And if you don’t do what they tell you to do tomorrow, you won’t live that long, either.” She laughs, but it’s an eerie, wicked sound.
“Lights out in ten,” someone says over the intercoms.
“You’ll find out tomorrow, newbie,” the voice in the next cell calls out.
I lay there, eyes open, until the lights go out. What happens tomorrow?
Chapter Four
Lani
They wake us all up, and we’re herded like cattle through the day. We have a group breakfast of pancakes and sausage. Next, we take group showers, which is not nearly as fun as it could be if this were under different circumstances. We’re led to the community room, where some of the women play cards, and others watch TV. Then we’re given some exercise privileges. I spend some time on the exercise bike, silently observing the guards and the other inmates. Then we have lunch, I think it’s probably meatloaf. We’re allowed outside for a little white. It’s a warm September afternoon, and all I can think of is it would be a beautiful day to spend at Doctor Dad’s pool.
I enjoy watching the interaction of the cliques. Sammy sits beside me part of the time, and she tells me who everyone is, and what they’ve done. There’s always a hierarchy in every group. A woman in jail waiting to go on trial for murdering her husband is at the top of the food chain. A woman, who stole from her cheating, used-car salesman husband, is her second in command. Everyone else are just surfs. Sammy likes to talk, and I don’t mind listening.
At about four we’re all taken back inside. Sammy stays beside me then entire time, until we’re back in our cell.
“It’s Saturday, that means it happens tonight.”
“What happens tonight?” They’ve been talking about it since I first got here yesterday. It’s time for me to know. “What should I expect?”
“It might not be you. It might not even be a girl. Maybe he wants a blonde this time,” she says with a shrug.
“Who is he?” I have to know. They have to tell me.
“The winner,” she replies excitedly, as she slides back down onto my bed.
“Who’s the winner?”
“I slept with him a few times. He’s pitch black, with black eyes. He’s a beast, a fucking animal. He likes a different girl every time, but he asked for me more than once. It makes me feel better than everyone else when he asks for me.”
Her wide eyes get even bigger than usual. She’s pretty, but I bet she’s gorgeous with make-up, and her hair done. She’s the kind of girl who would thrive with a man who really loved her and took care of her needs, including the weekly trip to the salon. She could be spectacular, if she’d just clean up her act and find the right man.
“Shut up, Sammy,” the voice in the next cell says forcefully.
“We’re havin’ tacos for dinner.” Sammy changed the subject quickly. “If you’re here for dinner.”
“Shut up, now.” I wonder if the voice is the husband killer. I didn’t get close enough to her to hear her talk. Oh well, who it is isn’t important.
“Just do what they say, and no one will get hurt,” Sammy assures me.
“Okay,” I say. I’m tired of falling for their shit. They’re probably just fucking with me, and I’m a little pissed off about it. “Whatever.”
Tony
“You ready, Roman?” The guard is standing outside my door, with a pair of handcuffs. “Assume the position.”
I walk toward the door, turn around, and put my hands behind my back. The guard puts the cuffs on my hands before he opens the door. After he pulls the heavy door open, he places a set of ankle cuffs on me. I’m a dangerous man, after all.
“We can’t tell you where we’re going. I’m gonna put a mask over your face,” the guard warns me.
“What difference does it make? Who in the fuck am I gonna tell?”
I haven’t had a single visitor since I’ve been in prison. My parents are too old to travel. And my wife? Ex-wife, I remind myself. She’s never going to visit. The mask goes over my head anyway. I’m led to what I assume is a van, and I’m thrown in the back. This is the end. The end.
Lani
“Turn around, Vaden, and walk backward toward me.” Hughes calls out.
“I told ya,” Sammy states excitedly. “You’re gonna have the best night ever.”
“Do I have a visitor?” I wonder aloud. Maybe it’s Jamie or Doctor Dad.
“Yea, you’re gonna have a visit,” Sammy chuckles.
“Do as you’re told, prisoner. Turn around and walk backward toward me.” Hughes holds the handcuffs out in front of her.
Sammy nods at me, almost hopefully. “It’s your night. You should be excited. You’ll get to watch too.”
“Watch what?” I ask, as Hughes locks the cuffs on my wrist. I could get out of them, if I wanted to. But I’ll let this play out, because I’m curious. This might be the first step to finding out what really happened to Addison.
“They can’t allow you to know where you’re going, so I have to blindfold you.” Hughes holds a bright purple bandana up in front of me. I nod, and she places it over my eyes.
“See ya tomorrow, Vaden,” I hear Sammy call out, as Hughes guides me away.
Hughes echoes what Sammy has already told me. “Be a good girl, and nothing bad will happen to you.” Then she leads me through the hallways, and outside. She puts me in the back of a car. I don’t think the person driving me is Hughes. For some odd reason, I think it’s a man. He breathes like a man, heavy and deep, and then he clears his throat. It’s definitely a man.
“Where am I going?” I ask, well I demand.
“You’ll know soon enough.” It’s said in a deep, male voice. Is that the officer that booked me into the jail? What was his name? De Soto. Is that him?
What in the hell is going on in this fucked up town?
Tony
The room is packed full of people. I can’t believe there are this many people at an illegal death match with prisoners as the participants. Are there really this many fine citizens who don’t care about the sanctity of human life, much less the laws that are being broken? And I’m the prisoner, locked in a cage for keeping me and my squad alive in the middle of some fucking sand pit hellhole that no one wanted to be in anyway?
I look across at my opponent. I saw him in the yard, when they first brought me in. He’s a thug, a gang banger who’s thrived in the system. He has spent most of his time on the inside lifting weights, getting stronger, learning to fight.
“In this corner, we have the challenger, Antony Roman!” The man in the center of the ring, with the microphone, points at me. Stupid fucking name my father gave me, with the whole Marc Antony from Rome thing. “We have a real gladiator here tonight people.”
They want a real gladiator, but they won’t get one. I’m not going to fight back. I’m not going to perform for them. I’m done with all their shit. I’m not going to do what they want me to do. I’m not going to kill this person.
“And we have our champion, Lucius The Angel of Death White.”
Lucius looks angry. He looks like someone pissed in his cornflakes. Maybe it’s the scar down his cheek, or the one over his lips, or his deep-set eyes. It looks like he tried to tattoo a teardrop under his eye, but his skin is so dark it’s not very visible.
He’s taller than me, and probably has a longer reach. But he’s got a few more pounds
, and I’m all lean muscle. Not that I intend to fight back. I won’t.
We’re both wearing our prison issue pants. I’m wearing the shirt too, but he isn’t. He’s arrogant, and cocky. He has been the champion for months. How many men has he killed in that time? And now it’s my turn. I guess he’s going to kill me too. I’m ready.
Lani
He places a bandana in my mouth, then pulls me out of the car. I try to struggle, I move my head from side to side, but my hands are cuffed behind my back, and there’s not much I can do. I’m suddenly reminded of what Sammy said. I need to go along with it so I don’t get hurt.
So I walk beside him, as he has a firm grip on my wrists. Then I hear doors open, and I know I’m in a crowd. I hear people talking, there’s music in the background, and it smells like a dirty litter box. The bandana over my eyes is removed, and I find I’m standing beside De Soto in an empty warehouse, with fold-out metal seats surrounding a boxing ring smack dab in the middle of a cage made of fence.
I’m standing by the door, so I’m at the back of the crowd. De Soto grabs my shirt, and pulls me toward a set of steps, and drags me up them, then into an abandoned office. I hear people in the room beside us. He doesn’t leave me alone, like I could scream anyway. So I move toward the window, and look down into the ring.
Two men face each other, wearing gray prison issue clothing. One of them is black, dark as night, and shirtless. He’s bald, and huge, and full of muscles. He’s good looking, like really good looking, and he probably knows it. He looks confident, already raising his arms over his head.
The other guy, he looks like a mountain man. His hair is long and curly, and his beard is down to his chest. He’s hairy, and dark, his hair and his skin, but he’s not black. He’s… I don’t know what he is. He’s slightly shorter than the black guy, but wider, and covered in tattoos.
The man with the microphone in the center of the ring steps out, and the door to the cage is closed. The black guy walks toward the mountain man, and throws a punch. It lands under the mountain man’s chin, and his head barely moves. He stands there, like an oak tree, and doesn’t sway. The black guy looks shocked for a moment, then throws another punch. The mountain man still doesn’t flinch.
“You’re going home with the winner. Roman asked for the prettiest girl, and White asked for the newest. Lucky for you, you’re both,” De Soto says from behind me.
“What!?” I try to scream. But I’m fucking gagged. I can’t punch De Soto, because I’m cuffed. So I just stand there, and watch.
“Yea, you’re going to have the fucking night of your life. And I do mean fucking.” De Soto chuckles
I scream again, but it’s muffled. Fucking gag.
Tony
“You hit like a bitch. My ex-wife hits harder than you.” I have to say it loud, because the crowd is fucking screaming his name. “You’re pathetic.” He hits me once more, and I’m afraid he might’ve hurt his fist. Jesus Christ, if he’s going to kill me with his punches it’s going to take all day.
He steps back, and tries to dance around like he’s Mohammed Ali.
I roll my eyes. “Just fucking hit me, for Christ’s sake.”
He steps up, and takes another swing. But my reflexes, they take over. I don’t know how to explain it. I want him to beat me up, kill me, end my misery. But I can’t. My training takes over, or maybe it’s my sense of self-preservation. I twist his arm behind his back, and up over his head. He falls to his knees. I hear his shoulder snap, and he screams. I mean, he really screams, like from the bottom of his gut. His arm is just hanging there, it’s kind of weird. I’m just standing here, looking at him. He’s not going to kill me now, not in that shape. What do I do?
The crowd is suddenly silent, but he’s still screaming. He’s not going to get any medical attention. That’s what a death match means. To the death. I’ve killed before. I’ve killed with my bare hands. What’s the difference?
I grab his head, place my hand under his chin, and pull. His neck snaps. His torso falls forward, and slams against the mat.
Suddenly everyone’s cheering. Before I know what’s happening, a guard approaches from behind, and my left hand is in a cuff. I turn around and take a swing, but another guard grabs my right hand. Then another guard kicks the back of my knee, just enough to put me off balance. I’m cuffed again, and they’re leading me back outside, to the van I came here in.
But the crowd is screaming my name. They’re screaming Roman. Some are screaming Gladiator. It feels good. I feel myself smiling for the first time in years.
Chapter Five
Lani
“Looks like there’s a new champion, and you’ll get to spend the night with him.” De Soto says, as he puts the blindfold over my eyes again, leads me back down the steps, and past the exiting crowd. They’re talking about their winnings, or their losses. Apparently most of them had bets on the fight, and most lost. I guess they backed the champion.
I should be freaking out. I should be fighting right now. Sammy told me not to fight, so I don’t, as I’m taken outside and to the car. I’m unceremoniously thrown in the back. I’m driven, but not far, and when I’m inside again I smell bleach and our footsteps echo in the cavernous hallway. He removes the cuffs right before he throws me in a cell. I hear a huge metal door behind me. Then I hear deep breathing,
“Sit down,” a voice says. The voice is fairly normal, not too deep, but it’s rich like he could sing a beautiful baritone. He sounds like he’s used to giving orders, too. “Stay quiet.” I cross my legs and plop down on my butt. There’s something in his voice that makes me not want to question him. “Remove the bandanas.”
I have completely forgotten that my hands were released. I pull at the blindfold and the gag, and easily pull both over my head. I see him now. He’s all black hair and black, almond shaped eyes. I can’t tell his ethnicity, he looks Asian, but I’ve never met an Asian that big. It’s a little disturbing, but at least he’s clean, I think. He’s just staring at me. Well, I am looking at him too.
“When I asked for the prettiest girl in the jail, I had no idea I’d get something like you.” He’s sitting on a cot. It’s not bunk beds, and his cell is smaller than mine. He has no bars, no window, just cement walls and floor. He must be in solitary confinement. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get anything.”
Am I supposed to say something? Am I supposed to do something?
“What’s a girl like you doing in jail?”
“A girl like me?” My fingers automatically go to my hair. I wonder what he sees.
“Your nails are perfectly manicured, but not painted. Your hair is cut once a month. You work out every day. You’re beautiful, but you try so hard to understate your looks. You’re an FBI agent.” His voice is so calm, and he sounds so intelligent and analytical. But he is wrong, so very, very wrong.
“I’m not FBI,” I finally say, emphatically.
“I don’t believe you,” he practically growls.
“I can’t prove that I’m not something.” I point out the obvious.
“You’re not CIA, they wouldn’t be investigating this,” he continues.
“What is this?” I ask, even though I think I know. “I mean, I just saw you snap a guy’s neck as easy as I’d snap a twig.”
“You’re a lawyer?” he wonders aloud. His eyes are mesmerizing, so dark I can barely believe it. I’ve never seen eyes that black.
“God, no,” I groan. Lawyers are the bane of each and every cop’s existence. Cops and lawyers are like mortal enemies. Like cats and dogs, capitalists and socialists, or Democrats and Republicans.
“You’re not law enforcement?” he demands, with those black, diabolical eyes that seem to see everything.
“I am not law enforcement,” I lie. Well, not really. I’m out of my jurisdiction, and I’m on a leave of absence. I am not currently law enforcement.
“Good, then this will be easier.” He stands and removes his shirt. He’s nothing but tan skin, muscles
, and tattoos. His muscles have muscles. He has absolutely no body fat. How is his skin so dark and he’s in prison? I’ve never seen a man who looks like him, not even at the gym. My eyes grow wide, and I’m sure he notices. “Strip.” As he says it, he drops his prison issue pants. God damn, is that a python between his legs? He’s fucking huge all over.
“Wait, what?” I finally realize what he wants. Me. He wants me. This Roman god wants to have sex with me. I might be getting wet just at the thought of it. He takes a few steps closer, his entire cell is probably only four feet wide. He’s so close I can smell the sweat of his body. Not that he worked enough to sweat in that caged ring. He never even took a swing at the other guy.
“Don’t say no. I don’t want to have to rape you. But I will. I don’t give a fuck.” His hands are in my hair, and he’s guiding my face toward his humongous cock. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Tony
She’s looking up at me with bright green eyes. She’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen in way more than a decade, even prettier than my ex-wife. Her skin is so pale, and her reddish-brown hair falls perfectly around her face. I got hard as soon as the guard shoved her into my cell, and that’s not necessarily just because she’s a woman. There are plenty of female guards here in the prison, and several who would go down on me if I snap my fingers.
I fucking want this one. She’s gorgeous, built like a brick shithouse, and speaks like she’s college educated. I could have, once upon a time, fallen for a woman like this. Now, I can only fuck her. And I’m going to. I’m going to fuck her senseless.
But first, she’s gonna suck my dick. “Open your pretty mouth,” I order.
She looks confused, almost like she might say no, or even worse, like she might cry. I can’t handle tears right now. I don’t want to fuck a crying woman, but I am going to fuck her.
Prisoner (All of You Book 1) Page 3
