Prison Promise (Prison Saints Book 1)

by Demi Vice

  Every.

  Fucking.

  Time.

  “I’m a civilian now, Diaz.” I flipped him off and gave Fidget a longer hug than usual to mess with Diaz.

  “That’s enough man. Too much love.” Fidget pushed me away.

  “Says the man who used to fake his nightmares to sleep in the same bed as his sister.” I chuckled. “Love you, and I’ll see you next week.”

  While I smiled like an idiot, Fidget threw on his best, ‘you’re dead to me’ face. I left him, following the group of people outside. My driver was leaning against his black Jaguar, ready for us to leave.

  “Do you still want me to play your wife’s playlist, Mr. Baron?” the driver asked.

  “You know how people say there’s no such thing as a stupid question?” I grunted, pulling off my boots, getting as comfortable as I could. “Well, you just proved everyone wrong.”

  He chuckled and played Ahri’s music. “Vow” by TENDER started off the playlist. I smiled like a fool madly in love, playing with my black wedding band as I twisted it around my finger.

  AHRI

  I couldn’t move.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I couldn’t make a fucking sound.

  They’d finally fallen asleep. I looked down at Atlas resting his head on my lap while Zeke was next to me with his feet up in the air, hands shaped like a ‘T’ and his head off the couch. Zeke let out small snores while Atlas stayed silent.

  I swiped Atlas’s long perfectly wavy hair behind his ear and smiled. I loved my boys so much, and sometimes it was hard to believe that they’d almost killed me, but it was worth it.

  They were, in one word:

  Priceless.

  I poked at Atlas’s left cheek knowing very well that’s where his little dimple was, and looked over at Zeke’s right cheek giving it an air kiss since it was too far to adore. They had my dimples, but everything else was from Jack. Raven black hair, soulful amber eyes, and flawless fair olive tone.

  Zeke let out a heavy snore and dropped his leg on my shoulder. God, he was so much like his father it was uncanny. Zeke grunted and adjusted himself on the couch moving his head back on it so I could see his sleeping face. He had a little Marilyn Monroe freckle just like Jack while Atlas had my little chin freckle and an original one right under his natural arched eyebrow.

  They were exactly alike, and I thanked genetics for their little freckles or else telling them apart when they were babies would’ve been nearly impossible.

  I took a few breaths, controlling my cute-rage as I looked around the penthouse. The Justice League series still playing on the TV and the black walls were full of photos of our family. I’d added my colors like I wanted to and as Jack had promised me. We still had black and white all over the house, but I’d added my sky blues, sunshine yellows, burning reds, and forest greens. The perfect blend of a modern silent film, meeting the nineties.

  Atlas’s and Zeke’s room was the most colorful thing in our house. We kept their room white, but when they got bored, they asked for their paints. They drew all over the walls. Atlas always drew sea creatures: fish, sharks, and sea monsters. Like the ones on Daddy’s body. And Zeke drew flying creatures: birds, dinosaurs, and dragons. Again, like the ones on Daddy’s body.

  Savvy and Bash were never really into painting. Even when they were younger, and I’d asked them to paint with me, they shrugged. They loved how the paintings looked afterward when they were done, but the actual ‘doing’ part didn’t interest them. While the boys painted, Savvy would dance around the boy’s room, hopping from one bed to the other, while Bash silently read his new children's book in his bean bag. Rarely, was the book in English.

  My eyes stopped at a photo on the wall from a few years ago when Jack got a new tattoo. Jack had gotten a few more tattoos over the years. His favorite being a pixie with wild blonde wavy hair who was dressed in yellow. It was one of the rare tattoos on his body that was colorful. His other favorite was V.XXV. The day he thought he'd lost me (You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Jack) and the twins’ birthday. Both set of twins. Same month, same date, but exactly two years apart. For a person who was always horrible with birthdays, it was like winning the lottery.

  My whole life was perfect, and that included my job. Not only did I have an unbelievably flexible schedule, but I also got to pick the music. I’m not talking about just my shift, but all of the shifts as well. What made my job even better were my coworkers; Link, Marcel, and Jay.

  Link reminded me of both Jack and Luke. Jack’s wildness and Luke’s nerdiness. I had a feeling Luke and Link were going to get along perfectly.

  When Link wasn’t on the floor, being a social butterfly with everyone who walked in the brewpub, he shared old stories about Jack and him when they were kids. I loved them. Mostly because I loved to tease Jack about it when I got home. Link really did his part of my brother-in-law so I could embarrass Jack from time to time.

  Marcel was actually on paternity leave. He successfully stole his brother’s fiancée, married her, and had a little baby girl. I always thought Marcel was the nice one, he was, but that’s saying a lot about the Bastards. They were all sinful bastards (hence the creative brewery name) when it came to the things they lusted and obsessed over.

  Jay was still Jay. A complete asshole at times. He couldn’t hold his tongue to save his life. He remained brutally honest which did not go over well since he was the man-whore of the trio. Never had I seen so many different women’s hands make contact with a man’s face. There were so many that all of us at the brewpub (and Jack) had a monthly bet.

  Who can guess how many slaps Jay would rack up by the end of the month?

  Link was on a four-month winning streak.

  Surprisingly, out of all of them, Jay and I got along the best. He’d grown up in Scorch Side, and, unfortunately, had a similar childhood to mine. He’d never admit it, but he liked me and considered me a close friend. He’d ask for my help when he needed to get rid of a clingy one-night stand, or whenever he needed to talk to someone who’d be just as honest as him. Behind all that bitterness, Jay was a sweet man. But unless you were part of our small close-knit group, no one ever saw that part of him.

  Aside from Three Sinful Bastard Brewery having great coworkers, it was flourishing. The Bastards were now on the hunt for the ‘perfect’ graphic designer who would be willing to redo all of the branding for the company logos and packaging. Jay was set on his old college best friend’s girlfriend to complete the project (since he owed his old friend a favor), but they all had to agree on the designer who was going to give Three Sinful Bastard Brewery a new look.

  Zeke let out a heavy moan that brought me back to the moment. I played with his hair while he smacked his full lips. I couldn't help but let out a faint giggle. Jack was right. He always got what he wanted, which meant I always got what I wanted.

  Jack’s new life motto, ‘Happy wife, happy life.’

  Whenever Jack loved to complain about us not having our wedding. I quoted him. Yes, I delayed the wedding for years, but having Luke there was going to be worth it. Like a true romantic, Luke had always been a sucker for weddings. Not to mention, our kids were going to be there, watching Mommy and Daddy show their love.

  What more could you ask for?

  The front door opened. “Hey, baby girl,” Jack whispered from behind me. “When’d they fall asleep?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  Jack threw his head back, laughed, and spoke in his normal raspy voice. “Yeah, they’re out like fucking logs. Fuck whispering. Alright, let's take our little spawns into their bedroom so Mommy and me can have some alone time.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  I knew they were in log mode, but I loved to watch them sleep in peace. Jack turned Zeke around like a doll and brought him over to their bedroom. Then he did the same with Atlas. He tucked Atlas in like he liked it but didn't bother throwing a blanket on Zeke since it was promised to be thrown halfway across t
he room in the morning. Also, Atlas had a habit of sneaking out of his bed each night to sleep with Zeke, bringing along his blanket to share.

  I kissed my boy’s goodnight, and we closed their door. The second the door shut, Jack scooped me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me like it was our first kiss. Passionate, raw, and entirely out of this world.

  “I fucking missed you,” Jack growled into my lips.

  “You saw me this morning.” I giggled.

  “I can still fucking miss my baby girl.”

  Jack took me to our office—our no kid space—kicked the door shut and locked it. Jack set me on the desk and took a step back just to watch me as he always did. He bit his lip, moaned, cocked an eyebrow, then went for our special locked drawer in his desk.

  “What are you feeling today? Black Pineapple, Tipsy Twinkie, or Baby Fireball?”

  “Mmmmm—I want…Tipsy Twinkie,” I said, kicking my feet in the air while Jack took out the mason jar of weed and the paper rolls.

  “And I’ll be having my Black Pineapple.” Jack took out his favorite jar of weed and his tobacco paper to make a blunt. I prefer my joints over blunts. I hadn’t tasted tobacco in years, minus when I kissed Jack.

  Jack rolled my joint, perfectly, then did the same with his blunt. We lit them up and took a deep inhale as we laughed. Jack stripped out of his clothes, making a black hole on the floor while he looked as colorful as me. His socks were tie-dyed blue, and his briefs were neon pink with the waistband that read: ‘Call me Daddy.’

  I couldn't help but laugh.

  “I do this ‘cause I love you,” Jack muttered with the blunt between his lips.

  He ruffled his hair out of his slicked style and made it just as messy as mine. He knew I was a sucker for that look. Jack went to his leather chair in the corner while I sat on the large desk, kicking my feet in the air without a care in the world because this was the life.

  We watched each other in pure silence, smiling like idiots in love and smoking our kush.

  “What?” I smiled, finishing off my joint.

  “Nothing.” Jack let out a small shrug and slapped his lap, so I could come over.

  I took my seat while Jack blew a perfect ‘O’ shaped ring of smoke above my head, creating a little smoke halo just for me. I straddled myself on his hips, feeling Jack get harder and harder underneath my pussy.

  “By the way, the gallery’s done. They called today,” I said, playing with Jack’s hair, wiggling my pussy and ass on his cock.

  “All painted black?”

  I nodded.

  “Then the Black Hole Photo Gallery is in business. Now comes the fun part. Deciding what images I should put up for this month’s theme, and then the billions of months after that.” He laughed.

  “Billions of months imply you’re immortal, Jack.” I kissed him.

  “And who told you I’m not.” he winked.

  It’s true, Jack was. He looked the same as when I first met him unless he grew out his beard. It was almost all silver. It was going to catch up to his hair soon, and when that day came, Jack would shed a tear and make me get a box of black hair dye.

  Somehow, I looked younger than I did when I was twenty-five. To be fair, I’d been malnourished. I had dark eyes that would make a panda jealous. And I had no idea what sleep meant. Now, I was a healthy weight, still slender, slept eight hours a night, and Jack fed me everything you could possibly imagine.

  Jack finished off his blunt and slouched in his chair while I got comfortable on his hips. He pulsed his cock a few times, my pussy begging for him as I dry humped him.

  Jack became lost in my eyes while I found myself in his. Letting a killer smile loose, he gave me an up-to-no-good arched eyebrow. “Tell me something I don’t know about you, Ahrianna Baron.”

  This was our nightly question. I loved this fucking question. I always found something new about Jack that had me falling in love with him all over again. Or just made me laugh until I snorted.

  “Okay…you know how I’m not afraid of spiders or cockroaches or centipedes?”

  Jack nodded.

  “I'm really, really, really, afraid of ladybugs.”

  Jack’s laugh boomed through the office. “What?”

  “They smell weird, and they fly, and they’re all like, ‘oh, look at me I’m so fucking pretty.’ But they’re not.”

  “You’re so weird.” Jack laughed through his sentence before I shut him up with a kiss.

  “You asked for my true colors, remember?” I planted another kiss, parting my way into Jack’s lips to taste him. Before Jack got too into it (because we weren’t already), it was my turn to ask, “What is something I don’t know about you, Jack Baron.”

  “I masturbated to our sex tape and your nudes when I can’t have the real thing.” Jack bit his whole bottom lip and thrusted up.

  “You told me that about a month ago.” I blushed, still loving that stupid image because I’d done it several times myself.

  “I know, but I’m horny.”

  “When aren’t you?” I pointed out.

  Jack chuckled. “Okay, let me see.” He bit his lip, running his hand up my pink boy short underwear, and under my baggy white shirt with Winnie the Pooh on it. Jack squeezed my waist and pushed me down on his boner as he thrusted up, releasing a throaty growl. My weakness.

  “You can’t ignore the question, Jack,” I moaned. “Don’t you dare break our Kush-and-Tit-for-Tat tradition.” I cocked a meaningful eyebrow at him.

  “Fine, fine, fine…” Jack paused, looking deep into my black holes. “I fell in love with you from the first second I saw you.”

  “What? Really?” A mixture of a nervous laugh and scoff escaped my lips. “Bullshit.”

  “I kid, you not.” Jack cupped my rosy cheek. He still had the ability to turn me into a hot mess with just a gentle touch. “You were real. You were life. You had your dark circles, your scar from Fidget’s dumbass, the bump on your nose, and a little-chipped tooth.” Jack pressed on my lips.

  “So…you fell in love with my imperfections?”

  “In a way, yes, but I fell for what they meant. You were a fighter. You weren’t the ‘Fragile’ label on the box. You were the label on the box that read: ‘Flammable: May cause spontaneous combustion,’ ‘Warning: She’ll eat you alive and spit you out with a heart-melting smile,’ and, ‘Danger: Hazardous sass, sarcasm, and smart mouth is promised. Be prepared to apply water on burns.’ I fucking loved that. And when you spat on my car, oh, God.” Jack grabbed his chest and rolled his eyes back. “My God, you were it for me. I needed you that second and I couldn’t control myself. You were playing with fire, playing with your food, and playing with my heart, but you didn’t know that.”

  I bit the inside of my bottom lip. The butterflies in my stomach drunk from Jack’s words and colliding with one another.

  “Bullshit.” My voice cracked.

  “Have I ever lied to you after our kitchen bonfire confession?

  “No,” I mumbled, pulling my long blonde wavy nest of hair behind my ear.

  “Then trust me, baby girl.”

  “I just thought you wanted to fuck.”

  “I did. I haven't had sex in seven years, and you hadn’t in four years.” Jack chuckled. “We were practically virgins, but I still wanted more than just a fuck from you. You had that something I couldn't live without.”

  I moved my legs to the side, rested my head on his throbbing heart and listened to how it beat for me. The same exact way my heartbeat for him. Jack hugged my legs and played with a lock of my hair.

  “Do you wanna hear it?” Jack asked.

  “Hear what?”

  “Do you want to hear my side of the story? How the Jack of Hearts had his heart stolen by a feisty, pixie thief with eyes so dark, she made the night look bright?”

  I nodded softly, my cheek pressed on Jack’s chest.

  Jack cleared his throat and put on a theatrical voice, the same one he uses to re
ad Shakespeare to the boys before bed. “Once upon a time—”

  I playfully slapped Jack’s stomach to stop him.

  “Okay, okay, okay.”

  Jack didn’t start right away. He pulled me closer to his body. Our heartbeats, morphing into one.

  “It all started with a letter. A promise…”

  First things first, thank you, the readers. Without you, this book would’ve been invisible, lost amongst many, or worse, lost in my Google Drive that I’m convinced Inception was based on. The amount of times I’d created a new Doc, rewrote chapters, abandon those exact chapters, and then shoved them inside a folder then another folder like Russian dolls, does not exist.

  I began writing Prison Promise in December of 2017 after a book I’d been working on for months didn't feel…quite right. It’s still lost in Doc Inception, and maybe, one day it’ll be reborn, but for now, it remains in limbo. But I couldn’t abandon the book entirely, which is why I took two characters and brought them to Prison Promise.

  Savvy and Bash.

  For some reason, I couldn’t let them get lost in limbo. I knew their father was going to be a mercenary, loud-mouth ex-con and their mother was going to be a strong, stubborn sweetheart, so, I decided to write their story instead.

  Jack’s and Ahri’s story.

  I wanted to write about a man who dreams big and wild, who never forgets to smile and have fun, and who sees good in everything. A superpower of its own. Seeing the best things even in the darkest moments, both major or minor, permanent or temporary periods in life. It’s a rare ability to have, and if you have it, I can’t begin to stress how incredible and rare you are.

  Unfortunately, I do not have it.

  I’m an Ahri, not a Jack. That’s why I have my own Jack in my life who reminds me to dream because it’s a simple thing to forget. I wanted to write Ahri’s story. A story composed of a past full of lack of communication and fear of truth. Something I’m way too familiar with. Sadly, stories like hers aren’t new. Not in books and not in reality.

  Communication is key.