There is no greater revenge than the kind served cold and dead. The kind that is unexpected and long feared by professional backstabbers. My blood itches with the need to put my brother’s head on a damn platter for what he did. He ruined my life. Five years behind bars. Five years of pissing in front of someone and beating the hell of men who try and sneak a peek.
I have one year left in this shithole. The walls are caving in a little closer every day. The orange jumpsuit is uncomfortable and scratches my skin. I swear they don’t wash them: it’s disgusting. The food is even worse. Cold, thick stew every day. I believe they blended all the food up and pour it on a plate.
I would almost rather starve. Almost.
I stare at the marks I’ve carved in the wall. A tally for every day I’ve been here. Only 365 more. Crossing my arms above my head, my eyes lock on the metal that makes the bed above mine. My new cell mate, Gregor, s in the bunk above me. I hate new cell mates. Especially ones that are so damn vocal.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he moans quietly as he jerks off. His skin slaps together, and it makes me angrier by the second.
I hit the bottom of the bed with my fist. “Quiet up there. I don’t care if you get off, but do it with your lips shut.”
There isn't much time to pleasure yourself unless you get with other guys, and that isn’t my style. There have been attempts, and every guy walks away with a broken nose and a few teeth missing from my fist slamming in their face.
Life in prison is far from easy. It’s an eye for an eye in here. Survival of the fittest.
And when a man needs to get off, the only place he’s safe is in his cell.
I stopped doing that shit years ago because it wasn’t worth the fights it caused in here.
Another reason? I miss the feeling of being with a woman. When the day comes that I get to feel soft curves and warmth again, it will be the best day of my life. It will feel so good that waiting all that time to come will be worth it.
“Hell yeah, that’s good,” Gregor mumbles to himself, and I curl my lip, smashing my fist on the bed again.
“If you care for your health, you’ll shut up. Last warning, Gregor,” I say through clenched teeth and tight fingers as they curl into my palm.
He quietens, and then all I hear is the bed shaking, balls slapping against his fist, and a grunt when he comes.
I can’t wait to get the hell out of here. I hate listening to that shit.
“Knight,” the correctional officer barks at me through the bars. The keys jingle on his hip as he stretches the retractable wire from his belt so he can insert the key in the lock without having to take it off his belt loop. “You have a visitor. You know the routine.”
I swing my legs over the bed and plant my feet on the filthy ground, lifting a brow in confusion. I haven’t had a visitor since I got here.
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know why anyone would want to see your useless ass,” Andrews, the correctional officer, sneers at me.
I turn around and give him my back, pushing my hands through the small hole so he can cuff me. Andrews is a real bastard when it comes to cuffs and cruelty. He loves to tighten the metal until the skin bleeds. I have scars around my wrists because of him, but I never show my pain.
Pain is just another feeling a man can use over another man in a place like this.
The iron door slides open with a rough clank, and Andrews grabs me by the front of my jumpsuit and pulls me out of the cell. I stumble into the wall, my shoulder taking most of the hit against the cement. A flare of pain spreads through my muscle, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to give Andrews the satisfaction.
The metal door clanks again, slamming shut, and Andrews locks it. “Get going,” he says, shoving me in the back.
I swear, the first man I’m going kill when I get out of here is Andrews. His days are numbered. The chains holding my hands together rattle as I walked. A few guys that I’m great enemies with