Darkmore Penitentiary 2 - Caroline Peckham Page 0,55

resist her? Why did I have to be such a slave to her?

I was weak, pathetic. A fucking useless piece of shit who couldn’t even keep away from a girl he was paid to keep in check.

I shoved the book away and grabbed the package from Midnight Hospital, tearing into it and pulling out the files from within. The ache in my arm fell still as I found myself staring at a picture of a young Rosalie Oscura who must have been fourteen or fifteen years old. She was standing in her underwear with her arms wide, her eyes hard and empty as she stared into the camera. Her left side was covered in silvery scars, the exact place where she had her rose vine tattoo now.

I felt sick looking at that, furious to my fucking core too. My hands shook with the heated rage coursing through my limbs as I read the file that accompanied the photograph. It detailed how she’d been admitted to the hospital after she’d been tortured with a sun steel blade. She’d made several visits, seen the best specialists in Solaria to try and heal away the scars and rehabilitate the nerve damage done to the tissue. There’d been some improvement, but the scars had remained.

I nearly crushed the file in my hand as I stared at what her father had done to her. And I couldn’t contain my fury over it.

I needed an outlet. I had to know where her father was now and if he was still drawing breath somewhere in this world, I would find him, destroy him. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. I cared so much it possessed me like a demon.

The mark on my arm pulsed with a thrumming kind of warmth different to the pain I’d endured from it before. But I couldn’t pay attention to it for long as my rage took over and fire burst from my hands as I paced and paced.

When I could think slightly clearer, I extinguished the fire, shoving out the door and heading to the training room.

Whoever was there was going to get the beating of their life. And I was glad when I walked in and found Officer Nixon practising air magic in one of the magic proof glass units. I’d never liked the guy ever since he’d flashed around some seedy porn in the rec room. He was a depraved motherfucker and I was more than happy to teach him what happened to his little breeze when it met the ferocity of hellfire. Especially when that fire burned in me for Rosalie Oscura.

B y the time I got to the queue for visitation, the other inmates were already lined up and waiting and I was stuck at the back. Not that that meant anything to me as I just sauntered straight past the line which had formed and offered up taunting smirks to anyone who didn't like it.

Unsurprisingly, at the front of the queue, Roary, Ethan and Gustard were standing in a vague line across the hallway rather than engaging in some kind of effort to force dominance. The guards allowed it because they knew it wasn't worth the backlash if they gave out any kind of preference to any one of the gang leaders.

Just before I could step forward to claim my place between the three of them, a broad woman stepped out of the queue and moved to bar my path, planting her hands on her hips and sneering at me. She had vibrantly coloured tattoos all over the exposed flesh I could see where her jumpsuit was tied around her waist and a mean look in her eye said she intended to follow through on this little show of power.

"If you want to be at the front of the line then you should have turned up on time," she said, stomping her foot in a way that was way too horsey to be a coincidence.

I raised a single eyebrow at her as the other gang leaders and the guards all looked my way. This was a test which I couldn't fail in front of them or they'd claim I was weak, but if I flipped on this bitch in front of all the guards I could end up back in the fucking hole. At the very least I was bound to miss out on my visit and there was no way that I was going to miss seeing my cousin after all this time.

"Get in