Conveniently Convicted (Paranormal Prison) - Ivy Asher Page 0,13

guard nods, but I’m completely lost as to what she means.

“Have fun,” she calls over her shoulder as she steps out of the room. The cockatrice guard steps in and closes the door behind him.

For a moment, the two of us just stare at each other. There isn’t a hint of bruising or a bump from where I smacked him with the tray earlier, so either I didn’t hit him very hard or he’s healed already. I try to stay focused on his eyes so that my gaze doesn’t wander up and down his form, because this male is a very nice looking specimen. He’s hot, plain and simple. My cockatrice wants to get to know his cock...atrice. And that’s just plain dangerous.

I’ve learned that I can’t really be trusted when it comes to attractive males. Or bright colors. I tend to do really stupid things when I come into contact with either. And this dude is both hot and colorful. He’s like fucking neon kryptonite.

“Who are you?” I demand, trying to sound as haughty as possible even though I’m strapped down to a bed.

Instead of answering, he just crosses his arms and props his back against the wall next to the now closed door.

“Are you going to beat me to a pulp or what?” I ask, hoping that him not moving toward me is a good sign. I really don’t want to be beaten up. Shifter bodies may heal quickly, but it doesn’t mean we don’t feel pain.

Silence.

He just stands there, watching me, the expression on his face unreadable. The lack of communication is really scraping my paranoia raw. I just want him to do something.

“Well, get on with it,” I snap, my anxiety ready to burst out of my chest.

Still nothing from tall, hot, and colorful. Not even a tail twitch. He just studies me, but I have no idea what the hell he’s thinking. It’s unnerving and makes me feel completely vulnerable.

“Not interested in talking, huh?” I ask as I fiddle with the metal cuffs on my wrists. If he’s not going to do anything, then I’m not going to waste my time. I won’t just lie here and wait for someone to fuck with me. “Fine. I can talk enough for the both of us.”

Using a jiggy-hip move that makes the male’s eyes come down to my waist, I shimmy myself down the hospital bed until my feet are hanging off the end and my head is even with my hands. From this vantage point, I’m able to reach my hair, where I have a couple of pins tucked away. “We both know why you deserved to be smacked with a cafeteria tray,” I begin as I dig through my orange and yellow hair, trying to find one of the pins to grab. “You were sent here by my mat and pat, weren’t you?”

He gives me a blank stare.

“My matriarch and patriarch sent you here because they found out I got myself arrested and they want you to bust me out, right? Well, bad news for you, I have no intention of going anywhere.” Finally finding one of the pins, I pluck it out, scraping my scalp and yanking out a few hair strands in the process.

I look over at him as I turn my head and snatch up the pin with my teeth. He does nothing as I lean over and stick the pin into the lock of the cuff on my right hand. I watch him the entire time, like a challenge.

He’s a guard at Nightmare Penitentiary. Dr. Brina insinuated that he came here to beat me, and I’m giving him a very justified reason to do so. Plus, I started it in the cafeteria.

I try to read his expression, but there’s nothing. He’s not giving away a single thought or emotion, just continues to watch me as I try to break out of my restraints. And his green and blue hair...dammit, I keep getting distracted by it. It’s very bright.

I wrench my gaze away and continue to dig the pin in, which would probably take someone else a very long time, but I’ve always had a gift when it comes to picking locks. I’ve also had plenty of opportunities to master my skill. You’d be surprised how many times I’ve been shackled.

Finally, the telltale click sounds in my ears, and I grin with the pin still between my teeth as the handcuff pops open. Spitting it into my now free hand, I quickly

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