Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
It wasn’t my first time, and it won’t be my last. The key, I’ve learned, is to become more dangerous than the devil.
Footsteps sound outside our cell, and then a voice barks for us to get against the wall. Reyes jumps down, his heavy feet hitting hard, and then goes to the wall. I turn around, but I keep every sense in tune to him, just to make sure.
Before I know it, the door opens, the guard comes in, and I’m handcuffed with ankle chains as well.
“Have fun at R and R,” Reyes mutters. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I know,” I answer, shuffling from the cell. “I’ll fulfill my part of the bargain, and then we’re done.” I’ve played my part for seven years and accepted protection from his gang in exchange for promises to be fulfilled once I’m free. He doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know I’ve already killed for him while within these walls. For myself, actually. A couple of his lieutenants had accepted contracts to end me, so they died. Their bloody deaths had been blamed on a rival gang, and Reyes has had no clue of the killer sleeping in the bunk beneath his.
My time in prison has unleashed the real me. The one that had lurked beneath wealth, duty, and the pursuit of power as a rich kid in a bad family.
The guards take me to Receiving and Release where they double-check who I am about ten times with pictures and my prison files, then I have to sign multiple documents. I don’t read them because I don’t care. I’m getting out of here.
Finally, we move into another room, and a guard named Donnelly, who’s a badass ex-Marine with no problem going hand to hand with murderers, hands me a bag. “Someone sent you clothes.”
I frown, not expecting to receive dress-outs. “Who?”
“What the fuck do I know?” Donnelly says. “Go change.”
“Huh.” I quickly change into a pair of definitely used black slacks, a white button-down shirt that scratches my skin, and brown loafers three sizes too small. Whoever sent the clothes doesn’t know me.
Then the discharge officer delivers to me the twenty bucks cash that had been in my possession when I was arrested, as well as the two hundred dollars they give to every prisoner before being released. Other than that, I have nothing. Many prisoners have boxes of legal work or books, but I’ve given away everything I had to Reyes, and I learned a long time ago not to write down anything important. I’ve made good use of sketch books during my time, but I destroyed the drawings after doodling, not wanting to give insight to my enemies. I’ve found that drawing relaxes me.
I climb into a minibus, still in handcuffs and chains, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There’s no way I’m actually getting out. The pretty lawyer whose image tortured me all night, forcing me to awaken sweaty and hornier than a lonely teenager, wouldn’t succeed.
We drive out of the front gates of the prison, park, and Donnelly removes my chains. I stretch out of the van.
He nods. “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
I face him directly. He’s been fair but tough on everybody, and frankly, I figure in this world that he’s a decent guy.
“No, you won’t,” I say honestly, meaning it. “For the record, Salisbury is making a move on Libertine this week. Contract.” Salisbury is an asshole, but more importantly, Libertine is my mole in North block. He’s with the Russian mob, is seriously crazy, and enjoys the candy he can buy each week with the money I slip into his account. Normally, I wouldn’t snitch on anybody because I don’t give a shit, but I need Libertine in place for now and not dead.
Donnelly stiffens, nods, and climbs back into the van.
I look around and note a champagne-colored SUV up ahead. The door opens and Rosalie Mooncrest steps out, today dressed in a light-yellow skirt and jacket set, her long legs leading down to sensible blue kitten heels. I like that they’re blue. My dick hardens to rock and reminds me that I haven’t fucked a woman in seven long years. That one has legs that could wrap around a man and hold tight.
Then that mouth. Lush, red, perfect. I wonder how good she is with it.
I lope toward her, noticing her swallowing and looking around. It was one thing to have a guard outside of the door, quite another to face me directly, and I’m surprised she is here standing unprotected. I don’t want to like her and fully plan on using her like I do everybody else. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugs. “I figure you don’t have anybody to pick you up.”
It is a kindness, and one I don’t recognize. What does she want from me? I definitely know what I want from her, and I’m more than amenable to an exchange. I glance at the vehicle. It’s tough-looking and yet sleek. “What is this?”