Prisoned Series Box Set

by Marni Mann

  “That’s right.”

  “I have one year to pay off the full amount, or the points triple.”

  I leaned forward to rub the side of my beard. “Nah, the points quadruple until the fifteenth month.”

  His brows rose. “What happens then?”

  I never said shit like this unless I was inside the prison. I also never gave anyone money before. But this was business, and he needed to hear the truth. “After fifteen months, I’ll find you. I’ll get my money back, and then I’ll fucking kill you.”

  I heard Layla take in a deep breath, but I didn’t bother looking at her. She needed to know that I didn’t play. Not when it came to this kind of stuff, not when it came to someone’s life, and not even when my cock was involved with the person brokering the deal.

  Panig walked over and stopped right in front of me. “We won’t have to worry about that. I keep my promises.” He extended his hand in my direction. “We can’t sign any paperwork. You’re just going to have to take my word for it, and we’ll seal things with the shake of our hands, just like the old-school way.”

  That was how Shank and I had started the prison and how Diego had come on board. How Bond had agreed to front us the cash to get the land purchased and the construction started. We couldn’t trust paper; it left a trail of crumbs. But, if this was the way we were going to conduct things, then Panig needed to really know how serious I was.

  I clenched his hand. “I don’t mind doing business this way, but just know that, if I don’t get my money, you won’t have a hand to shake with anymore. Or an arm. Or a fucking head.”

  “Understood.”

  He took the bag from me and gave it to his assistant. She opened it and removed all the cash, placing the stacks in piles, noting the amount of each one, and taking a picture of it all.

  “Five hundred thousand,” the assistant said to Panig.

  He remained standing, and I joined him, our hands clasping once again, my grip much looser this time.

  “I look forward to making a lot of money for you,” he said.

  I glanced at Layla before I replied, “Me, too.”

  Twenty-Six

  Tyler

  Four Years and Two Months Ago

  I sat at the bar, a cheeseburger and fries in front of me, with small containers of ketchup and ranch next to the plate. An empty basket of popcorn was by my glass. My beer had been refilled four times. By the fifth, I’d be hiccuping.

  I reached for the mug, not wiping my hands before I grabbed the handle, not taking the ketchup off the corners of my mouth.

  Not even looking to my right when I felt someone sit beside me.

  I didn’t even have to glance in his direction. The smell, the swish of his jacket, the sound the wooden legs made when he manhandled the stool—I knew it was Jae.

  This was the first time I’d come to the bar since our run-in. Maybe I shouldn’t have returned, knowing there was a chance he’d be here. I just hadn’t thought he would be. Not with how much time had passed, not with him unaware of my schedule and the nights I had off.

  “Beer?” the bartender asked him.

  Jae rattled off some funky brand, the same one he’d ordered when I met him here. The bartender held a glass under the tap and filled it to the top.

  “Burger?”

  “I’ll skip the meat this time,” Jae grunted.

  I felt the air from his words; it lingered around my nose, as though he were facing me when he’d spoken. I took in more of his smell. My eyes closed for just a second, as I remembered the way his hands had felt, and then I slowly turned toward him. The second our stare connected, I knew it was a mistake. He was so sexy, so edgy. His features were so distinct, and the feel of him was so mysterious. He had the ability to suck all the air out of me and leave me gasping. But I couldn’t stare. I couldn’t gasp. Jae was completely off-limits.

  I glanced back at my burger and took a bite, my chest tight and painful.

  “Here you go,” the bartender said, setting the beer in front of Jae. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Some popcorn.”

  “You got it.”

  The bartender placed a basket by Jae’s beer, and then he moved to the other side of the bar.

  With him leaving, our audience was gone, and we were alone again.

  The music played quietly in the background. The TV wasn’t on. Only four of us were in the bar tonight. I liked it better when there had been just three. With one less here, I had felt safer. Now, I was doing everything I could not to gaze back in his direction.

  “Tyler.”

  Hearing my name come from his lips caused my whole body to shake. The French fry dropped from my hand, and my throat closed around the tiny bite of potato that I’d been trying to get down. I wanted him to wrap me in that word. To say it over and over with his mouth close to my ear. Those two syllables demanded so much, and I wanted to cave. I wanted it more than anything. But I couldn’t. And the pain that it caused was so overwhelming, it felt like the skin on my chest was going to crack right into my heart.

  “Please don’t,” I begged.

  I’d said the opposite of what I wanted. It was such a lie; it’d stung as it came out of my mouth. I just knew that I wanted my life as much as I wanted him.

  It wasn’t a choice even though I wanted it to be.

  “Tyler.”

  He ignored me. I had known he was going to do that, too. I knew this was going to become the hardest thing I’d ever have to do.

  “It hurts enough as it is, Jae. Don’t make it hurt more. Just let me eat my burger and go home.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  I focused on the fries. I couldn’t put them anywhere near my mouth, but they gave me something to look at. “You haven’t seen me in months. I don’t understand why you’re here now.”

  “Why?” His voice rose a tiny bit toward the end of his question, like he was surprised I had even said it.

  Then, I felt him turn in his chair and shorten the distance between us. It killed me that I couldn’t do the same, that I should be moving further away because it was the right thing for the both of us.

  “It’s the first time you’ve been back here, Tyler. That’s why I’m here now. I can’t go to your apartment, and this is the only other place I knew you’d come to.”

  I tilted my head just so that I could see his hands. His fingers were long and solid. I imagined how skillful they were. And then I took that thought and pushed it back to the furthest place in my mind. But what it left behind was an ache so strong that the potato still lay in my throat, the ability to swallow long gone.

  “You’ve been coming here, looking for me?”

  The more questions I asked, the longer I would keep this conversation going. What I should have done instead was gotten up and left. But, if he told me how he’d found me, I could make sure it didn’t happen again.

  “No.”

  I made the mistake of looking at him a second time, and the mix of emotions that hit me was even stronger than the last.

  Why had I gotten myself in this situation? How could I let this pain continue to erupt inside my chest and eat the hell out of me?

  He was a stranger. Nothing more. Yet he was causing a misery so deep, I didn’t know if my legs had the strength to carry me out of here.

  “Then, how did you know I was here?” I whispered, the loudest my voice would go.

  He turned his head straight, ate his popcorn, and sipped his beer.

  Now, he was ignoring me? He had come all the way here, and he had nothing to say?

  I looked back at my burger and fries. I couldn’t even stare at them anymore without my stomach churning. The only thing I wanted was the beer. That had the ability to calm me down and take some of this ache away. But I wanted him to answer me, too. It didn’t matter what he said. I just wanted to hear his voice again, to feel his words, to know they were directed at me. To bask in his attention since this would be the last time I’d ever get it.
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  When I tried to reach for my mug, my hands wouldn’t work. They were shaking too badly. My knuckles were locked, as if I had arthritis.

  I needed a second, and I needed some air.

  And I didn’t want that air to be filled with him.

  So, I got up from the stool, waiting for the feeling to return to my legs, and I rushed into the restroom.

  I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink. It was the rawest I had ever looked. The most emotional I’d ever been without tears, without spit, without wrinkles edged in my face from all the crying. I couldn’t cry, not about this. Because it wasn’t just sadness that consumed me. It was so beyond that. It was pain. Like Mina had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart, stopping it from beating. She was taking away my ability to care about someone, to grow feelings. She was shutting me off and never allowing me to open again.

  It hurt so fucking bad.

  The longer I gazed at myself, the more it reminded me that I was no longer in control of my life. That Mina was. That I had to get out of here before I spent any more time with him, before I made the biggest mistake that I would regret forever.

  As I turned to go back into the bar, a pair of hands slipped around my waist.

  I gasped from the feel of him.

  I gasped again because his touch felt so amazing.

  “You shouldn’t be in here,” I said.

  “Maybe, but I know you don’t want me to leave.”

  I moved more to face him. When I did, I felt my throat start to close again. “I need you to go. Or I’ll go. But one of us has to leave.”

  “I know that isn’t what you want, Tyler.”

  He leaned down, and I turned my cheek, so he would miss my lips. His mouth landed on my neck. He stayed there, halfway between my jaw and collarbone, like he was breathing me in. I felt my pulse hammer underneath him, my heart throbbing, my stomach sparking to the point where it was fluttering between my legs.

  “Tell me to stop, Tyler.” His hands moved higher, clipping me right under my ribs. Then, he slowly raised his lips toward my ear. “Say it before I fucking devour you.”

  Where was my voice?

  I knew I shouldn’t be in this restroom with him. I shouldn’t have allowed him to touch me. I especially should have banned his lips from coming anywhere near me.

  “She’s been breaking some of our rules, and I have zero tolerance for that.”

  I couldn’t get Mina out of my head.

  Since my meeting at her house, none of the girls had seen Sadie. She had moved out of her apartment and wasn’t answering her cell. Someone had said they thought she had moved back home. Another had mentioned she had gone to one of the islands in the Caribbean. Wynter had said nothing about it, but I knew the warning she had given me long ago, and that never left my mind.

  Had Sadie cut all contact and really moved away? Or was she dead?

  The unknown terrified me.

  I knew all it would take was for someone to see me with Jae, and Mina would be calling in each of the girls to question them about me. Then, what would happen?

  God, this was the scariest thing I’d ever gone through.

  “Stop!” I shouted right before he kissed me. I tried to move back to put some space between us, but he wouldn’t let me. “I’m so afraid.” I shouldn’t have admitted that to him.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t be here with you, and I can’t have any feelings for you.”

  His tongue swept across the inside of his bottom lip. “But you do.”

  “I…” How could I put this into words? “I feel something, yes.”

  His face moved a little closer. “How is that a bad thing?”

  “I told you, I can’t do this.”

  He searched my eyes, a silent plea to give him more honesty. I couldn’t do that either.

  So, he said, “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how this must sound. I’ve been nothing but an emotional wreck since the moment you met me, and tonight is no different. I’m probably making less sense now than I did the last time we were together.”

  “Why can’t you do this, Tyler?”

  He moved his hands to my cheeks and held me steady. Something about his touch pulled the truth right out of me.

  “My job doesn’t allow it.”

  “Fuck your job. You’ll find a new one.”

  I scrunched my eyes shut and took a breath. “I can’t. It’s not like that.”

  He searched again once I opened them, and I could tell he’d come up with nothing. “Then, I’ll protect you.”

  I couldn’t get him involved with the trouble I was in. Regardless of how much I wanted his protection, I would never do that to him.

  “No, Jae. You can’t.”

  “Listen…”

  I tried to pull back, and he only held me tighter.

  “I’ve been thinking about you since I dropped you off that night, worried as hell that something had happened to you and wondering why you hadn’t come back here. You said this place was your favorite.”

  I didn’t know why he cared, but I loved that this tall, brawny, beautiful man was so concerned. It changed nothing between us, but I’d still give him an answer.

  “I went to Rudy’s instead.”

  “Rudy’s?” His voice went so deep, it almost sounded like a roar.

  A hint of a smile tugged at my lips. “You said it was your favorite, so I tried it. Twice.”

  “And?”

  “It was good. Dirty, like you said. Burger was delicious.”

  “But?”

  “They have popcorn here. Their fries have potato skin still on them, and everything is extra salty, just how I like it.” For some reason, talking about the bars and their food didn’t make me feel like I was doing anything wrong.

  But then his hand moved, reminding me that he was touching me and that everything about this had to stop.

  “Jae…”

  Silence ticked away, but it felt like so many words were passing between us. I didn’t trust myself. I had to get out of this restroom before something else happened.

  “I have to go.”

  He shook his head. “No.” His grip became more intense, clinging to the strands of my hair and pulling until my chin pointed up. “If you’re not going to say it, then I’m going to take what I want.”

  “Say what?”

  “Say how much you want me and how I can have you right here in this restroom.”

  A shiver ran through me. I believed he would take whatever he wanted, and I believed I would like it.

  And then where would that leave me? Guilty of being with someone outside of The Achurdy. Guilty of hiding a secret. Guilty of lying.

  Could I live with that?

  Could I hide that secret? Could I lie even more than I already had?

  His mouth got closer and closer.

  In my mind, I saw Mina’s face, the glare she had given me in her office, the sharpness of her words, how badly it had stung when she threw my sales in my face.

  “She’s been breaking some of our rules, and I have zero tolerance for that,” repeated in my head.

  Once again, I had to make a choice, and I only had a few seconds to do it.

  “Jae, I—”

  His lips touched mine, cutting me off from saying another word. It seemed, no matter how hard I tried to fight this, he was determined to kiss me.

  And I wanted him to. Despite every fear, every bit of anxiety.

  He pushed his body against mine, holding my face so tightly that I almost couldn’t take a breath. But I didn’t want him to touch me any other way. The feel of him matched his kiss. It was brutal but consuming, sharp, and demanding. More dangerous than I’d ever felt.

  “I’ll keep you safe,” he promised when he finally pulled away.

  I clamped my fingers around his and took in his stare.

  I believed him.

  There wasn’t a question in my mind that he would do what he’d
said.

  I just wouldn’t let him.

  Twenty-Seven

  Beard

  I found myself going into The Eyes of the prison and straight to The Log. That was what we called the death book. Inside, we listed each inmate with their real name, the client who had hired us, the number we had assigned to them, and their cause of death. We tried to be exact when we described what had killed them. It was hard to guess sometimes because we often tortured with multiple devices at the same time. So, in those cases, we had to use our best judgment and pick the method that had caused the most trauma.

  I flipped toward the back of the log and found the listing for Inmate #1501. Shank had promised to take care of that pregnant bitch, and he had. She’d been dead for weeks. I’d just forgotten to ask him what he’d done to her, and now, I couldn’t with him being on vacation in the States.

  In Shank’s messy handwriting, he’d written the chick’s real name, the client who had hired us, and her assigned number. At the end of the page, he’d jotted down a whole paragraph about her death. I loved every fucking word.

  Inmate wouldn’t shut the fuck up, so I cut the cunt’s tongue out. I’d already stabbed her tits with an ice pick, ripped her hair out with pliers, and soaked her feet in boiling water. When I took the saw to her tongue, I clipped a part of her throat by accident. She didn’t last long and bled out in the chair.

  Inmate #1501 wasn’t the first chick to have lost her tongue in here. Shank would remove most girls’ tongues because women had a tendency to chirp, and he couldn’t stand that. I liked that he was hard on them. I wished everyone in here were, but we’d had to get rid of a few of the sweepers because they’d had soft spots for the women.

  Pleas didn’t work on us guards. If we were hired to kill, inmates were going to die in here whether they had a cock or a cunt. And, for the cunts, it didn’t matter if they had a baby in their stomach or one at home. As far as I was concerned, those were the ones I despised the most. The ones I would ask Shank to torture harder than the rest. The ones whose screams were the loudest, where I would make a special trip down to the cell block just so I could hear them.