The first member of the jury steps up, unfolding the piece of paper and looks at me before looking at the judge. “Your honor, we the jury find Mr. Ambrose Guilty on the charges set before him today. But, although we are all in agreement that he is responsible for the death of Miss Briggs, we feel that it was not his intent, nor was it out of any premeditated decision, but rather the culmination of several young men’s bad decisions and lack of better judgment. For that reason, we beg lenience for him.”
Looking over to the judge as she clears her throat she looks me in the eyes. “Right, well with that being said, Mr. Ambrose, with the facts given and seen before me, and with the findings of this jury, I hand down to you what I feel is fitting given the extent of the actions and the death of a young lady. Six years and six months.”
The gavel slams down in that instant. I jump at the sound and hear the sobs and shock break out from my side of this room as laughter and cheers sound out from team Briggs. Standing up as the officers come over to me, I’m numb. A sob leaves my Nan’s body and a shudder rakes through my Pa. June’s eyes are shut. John along with jock squad, are smiling and high fiving, all bar Clarke, he knows the war that’s about to rain down on them. This isn’t over! Before I get taken away I get to say my goodbyes. I hug my Nan, telling her I love her. I thank my lawyer. She tells me this isn’t over, she will be in touch, but I’m not sure why. Kash, I hold for a while. “I’m so sorry, brother. I couldn’t keep her safe, and in turn, I broke the promise made so many years ago to do the same for you. I have fallen now. I need you to take my stand, take care of Nan and Pa the best you can, study your ass off, be all you dream of, and try, for the love of God, to find a lady to love. I love you Kashie boy.”
I shake Pa’s hand, holding eye contact with him for a long while. That man's love runs deep. I hear my boys as I get led away. I stop by June, hug her, mouth a ‘thank you’ and a ‘sorry’ to her and with that, I’m gone, taken out back to a van full of little punks just like me. The ones society fucked up. I suck in a deep breath before we get led into the jail. This’ll be the last breath I take as Knox Ambrose. The person going in there will not be the one leaving. Tonight, I will sell my soul to the Devil to become the demon of darkness, for that’s where I need to be, embedded in the cloaks of sin to survive.
I stand in front of them; naked, stone cold, waiting for the strip search to be over. I get a glimpse of a few of the boys that came in with me, tiny frames shaking in fear for what is about to happen. Me, well I’m built thick, hard, heavy. I’m ripped beyond belief and I know that coming in at this size would place a blazing target on my back. Well, bring it. I don’t fear anything or anyone. Not now. These little pipsqueaks, the stench flows from them. God, may you keep their souls safe, they will get ripped to shreds in here. Bright orange pants, white tee, and black flip flops will be my attire for the next six years and six months.
Getting pushed into a poorly lit room, we are stripped bare, searched, butt cheeks spread, and tongues poked, looking inside my mouth and my ears, my nostrils and hair... what the actual fuck is this? Shuddering out as they assault me with a cold dousing of water coming flying out at me from a hose. The yell instructions on what to do. It’s not hard, step right, turn, face me, turn back, face the wall. The water shuts off and we are thrown a towel and our clothes, “Get dressed and stand over there in a line when you’re done. Two minutes.” Taking my time to do as they say, I want to stand to the back of the line so I can see who I’ll be sharing this place with. Standing at the back gives me the best view over the punks in here as I tower them all.
Yelling, spitting, sniffing, and whistling is what greets us as we enter the cell block. God, so fucking civil aren’t they? Acting more like dogs than men. Well, I ain’t here to make friends. Head high, I follow the guard to my cell, up some stairs that seem to circle around the area below. The main area is filled with tables, chairs, a TV and couch. The guards’ office holds four and stands outside a big glass enclosure with screens everywhere inside. A lot of men seem to be in this area. I see a few in their cells as I make my way up to mine. We enter my cell and the guard shoves me, hard by his standards, I’m sure. I barely move though and smirk to myself as he grunts, “Dinner’s at 4:30, you’ll hear a bell. Follow the other inmates. Later, a guard and your social worker for this unit will be up to show you where the shower block, toilet, commissary etc. is. Make your bunk up. Oh, and ‘welcome, boy, this shall be your new home.’” I snicker down at his tiny excuse for a body as he looks up at me, “You got something to say there boy?” he says with a clipped I’m tough tone.
Looking around us in a mocking gesture, I lean in down close and whisper into his ear “Me? If you fucking boy me again, I may just rip your fucking throat out!” I seethe.
“Are you threating me, boy? I can slot you for that. I wouldn’t be getting cocky now.” He smirks, an all ‘I’m powerful and you’re nothing’ look over his face, fake bravado is what we call it.
“It wasn’t a threat, sir. It was a fact.” I turn my back on him to make up the bunk that runs along one small wall of the cell. After I’m done, I jump up on it and just lay there looking up at the concrete ceiling that feels as though it will cave in on me at any minute. I just listen to all the new sounds and unfamiliar shit going on around me in this god forsaken hellhole. I hear a rack along the bars of my cell and I look up as a guard, along with a pretty little thing they say is a social worker, walks into the tiny space that is my cell. Looking at her, up and down, I think to myself this woman must have balls, working in a place like this. Despite all the wolf whistles that I heard as she walked by the cells, she walks in on an air of grace with eyes like steel. “Mr. Ambrose? I am Maggie the social worker. I’m here to see if you need anything, fill you in on the goings and to show you around.”
I look her up and down, “Sweetheart, I don’t need anything. I will be just fine, thanks.” I turn my head to look out the small block that they call a window, “Feel free to leave.” I spit out. “Oh and shut the fucking door.”
The days fall into each other and I lose track of them, along with all sense of time. I have refused to see anyone that comes in. I can’t deal with that right now. I’m still dealing with the fact that these punks think it’s ok to snort at me, eyeball me out every time that I walk past or out into the yard. One day I will show them just why this body is built this way.
On my sixth day, I get the pleasure to witness a group that call themselves ‘The Kings’ come into the shower block. They grab one of the little punks that I came in with. He has his back to them showering. I don’t wanna witness this. I know what goes on. I’ve seen the TV shows. I’ve heard the banter about jail. Number one jerk spoke first. “Got what we asked for yet, boy?” The kid was shaking, “Um... yeah... um no, my mom, well you see, she can’t get in here. She’s old, you know, my old lady? Well she left me so I can’t... um... help you.”
The big dogs always pick on the little newbies don’t they? Shaking them for whatever they got and putting the fear of God into their pissy bodies.
“Really? Well we told you it wasn’t a matter of if you could, it was more of you will!” Number two jerk says. I carry on with my shower minding my own.
“We own you new ones, so you will do as we say, when we say, or your stay here will be rough, to say the least, and you see Big Bob here? Well you’ll be here solely for his entertainment, do you like what you see, boy? Coz Bob likes you, he likes them new and sweet.”
With that, so called, ‘Big Bob’ comes over, licks the poor kid up the side of his face while he grabs the kid’s dick in his hand. The kid radiates fear running deep, his eyes bug out as Bob spins him round. “I’ll give you a taste, aye boy? Of what will be coming for you, then the boys here, they will rough you up a bit so you don’t forget we own you, and we don’t like to be told no!” I back away into the cubicle to dry off and dress. I ain’t sticking around for this sick side show. I’m just about to the door and to exit when jerk number thr
ee blocks the door from me, “Going somewhere, are we?” He says with an evil glare.
“Get out of my way” I step forward, his hand comes up to my shoulder.
“I don’t think so,” he says, “you’re next, sweetheart. We’ve been watching you for days now.” Laughing out at me, he winks. My hackles go up and my breathing hitches.
“Don’t fucking think so. Get your fucking hand off me now!” my eyes burn deep into his.
“Or what? Boy, we run this place!” Stepping into me harder, he tries to intimidate me. I don’t think so.
Pushing my chest up into his body and leaning down onto to him, I growl, “I’ll rip you limb from fucking limb without even blinking.” With that I feel arms coming around my waist.
“Take him Drey, we’ll hold him.” Before they get a hold of me, I fly forward with my head cracking the little cunt between his eyes, breaking his nose and sending blood flying.
Whipping around to the pussies who were trying to hold me, I crack the little sons of bitches in the face with one swift movement, and grab the kid’s arm, pulling him free. I tell him to “Run. I got this. You mother fuckers have fucked with the wrong guy!” The fight escalates into a damn right brawl. I get a few jabs to the jaw, a spear to the ground and a crack to the ribs. But not until after I have given them a taste of the fucken Assassin Knox Ambrose. There is a reason I’m built like this. I’m a lean mean fucking fighting machine and I’ll take you out as quick as you can fucking blink.
The screws come flying in with full fucken assault gear on, a bit over the fucking top for just a little bathroom tickle up. Laughing as they smack me to the ground, I allow them to cable tie my hands behind me and drag my ass down and deep down into a whole new part of this shit hole. The mother fucken slot. That little head cracking bought me time in the slot. I can now just breathe and not worry about the fucking dick bags in the main block. I stand, looking around what a delightful dark hole this is. It’s cold and dimly lit, just the way I like it. And I’m alone, where my mind can talk to my lost soul without the distraction of the other inmates.
After I am thrown into the dark, the cable ties are cut from my hands. Pulling myself up, I rub my wrists where they had been digging into my skin. The slot door made of heavy thick steel slams shut and the lock sounds, securing me in the dark, as the tiny light above me flickers on and off. The dampness starts to sink into my skin and bones almost instantly. She comes to me then, like it was meant to be, me locked away safe for her to come down and talk a while, sit and keep my dark mind company.
At first, it was a sense I was not alone, then that smell of apples and rain in a cell of silent, dark emptiness just like me. I have turned my back on all that has ever walked before me. Angel? I know that you are here. Why? To torment me? To talk to me? Sit? Listen? What is it, Angel? Mock my soul? Punish me more than I punish myself? I can’t handle the thought of her seeing me this way, not like this. I close my eyes and roll my head back to the cold wall as I feel the anger and pain take me. The embarrassment I feel, it rages in me, boiling up the anguish that comes from knowing she has seen my darkness.
I open my eyes to see purple smoke rolling in through the cracks. Blinking up and around, I’m confused and then, just like that, she is there hovering above the ground; a halo of light splintering the darkest of grey. My breath catches in my chest and I rub a hand over the bristles of hair over my jaw. It’s more like a five day old beard I notice as I’m shaking my head and forcing myself to my feet. I reach out a hand to her, “There is a God then,” I whisper out to her.
“Knox, what are you doing? Why do you torment yourself this way, allow such poison into your body? For what? The chance to speak to me? I know that you fight to see me. You sold your soul to the Devil, who, by the way, has no intention of returning that to you without a hefty price. Any future happiness will be tainted forever by the greed of hate and anger. It will burn deep, scorch anything good that comes to you. I told you I wouldn’t leave, and you're making it hard for me to. Don’t you see? It’s killing me over and over to see how much pain you carry. How much you want to destroy them and anyone around you, including yourself! Baby, please stop this reign of anger.”
My sweet Angel is fucking pissed and sexy as hell. Laughing, I can’t help it as she puts her hands on her hips, tapping her foot in anger and annoyance. Is it wrong that this sight is making my dick hard? I walk over to the floating form in front of me, reaching out. She is all wisps of smoke and light, her skin is shining in the same way that I remember, and her eyes are just as beautiful. I look at her, go to touch her, find that comfort that I have longed for but my fingers go through her. Angel? What the hell?
“You can’t touch me, baby.” she says.
“What? Why? Are you here? You’re real.”
“I’m an illusion, baby. I’m as real as you need me to be. I’m here when you need me, when your thoughts are deep and dark. The kind of dark that sucks the good from you.”
My head falls into my hands “I’m not hearing this. I can’t go and lose you twice, Angel, so what? You come and go when you please?”
“No. I come when I see that the pain will surely kill you. Seeing you wish that hard for it, you haven’t made any friends in here, Knox, they want blood. I see that you will give it to them. Foolish boy, don’t give them your fight, don’t fall to their demands, be you.”
“Be me, Angel? Be me? Look where that got me – in here, where demons lie thick and heavy. The Devil's men walk these walls. I became one solely so I wouldn’t drown, to rise above and reign. I will shower the sparks of all the hurt that lies inside like ten thousand punching fists in the air. I have to leave the weak and the hunted behind. If it disturbs you, Angel, then float away, come again another day, when you can deal with what I have become.” Turning on my heel, I face the wall. Her eyes are not what I want to look into when I’m this pissed.
“Knox, I understand that it's hard to let go of the demons inside when they are here, holding you when no one else will, but I am here now. I found my way back, so come lay down and sleep a little. Tomorrow is a new day, baby, and, for the love of all things holy, you have to be on your game.”
I wake the next day feeling light. The smell of apples and rain is on my clothes and one white feather lies on the floor by my bed. I pick it up and run it across my face. Looking up at the ceiling, I see, in that moment written in dust, Ditto Baby. She was here. I will fight for all that I believe in. I will fight because devils can love angels and, when I’m done being this vengeance-filled demon, I shall take up residence as the Devil in Hell and call my angel to my throne among the fires.
Trying to occupy my brain in a six by eight space of hell is pretty much impossible, so I do what I can, – pushups among pushups, squats, bicep dips, shadow boxing. All I can to train, not only my body but my mind. Be on my game. I will because, when I’m released from here, I’ll be a whole new monster.
Walking outside from being in the slot for weeks was an assault to my eyes and my senses. but walking around feeling the air on my face was a welcome distraction. That is until the Kings come for me, bloody muppets. They had already taken out that kid. He is now in hospital protection. The pussies jump me from behind. I shake a few off after they get a few nice blows in. I take one to the ground and get him in an arm bar, bending till that fucker snaps right in my hands, he wails out in pain! I spring from my back, right up to my feet and duck as I see a fist coming for me. I come back up following through with a fist to his jaw, he stumbles back. I bring my hand around across his neck and bend him over my knee as I come down to the ground. I’ll break this mug’s fucking back clean in half. I can just start to feel the first few ribs popping as a guard comes at me with pepper spray. Fuck! No matter how much of that shit gets sprayed it still stings, like sex on fire!
Back the slot I go again. I’m not disappointed. Maybe in there I will see Angel again. I spend hours in the cell, staring at the dark, damp walls and nothing... no Angel. She never comes
to me while I am awake but, just before I wake, I think that I can smell her, sense the smallest wisp of a touch running over me, small whispers in my ear, leaving messages to sit in my head for me to mull on. Always though, there is a white feather waiting for me, along with the word ditto written in the dust. I close my eyes, readying for yet another release into the main population. Who will come at me next?
Once out this time, I have visitors. I meet with Kash, Nan and June. They all seem well and good. It’s just about been two years now and all I do is fight, get slotted and fight some more, even if I did want to see them before now, I wouldn’t have been allowed to because of my fighting. It doesn’t matter though, I’m not who they knew. I’m a cold dead machine who now only fights to release his demons upon the souls of the bullies, the men that tempt me to fight them.
I’m sitting in my cell for the first time in a long time, the white feathers don’t come to me here. Two years I’ve had to think, to hate, to bleed, to freeze my heart, and burn the last part of the soul, that the Devil owns. Two years, alone I’ve battled my demons, taken them out and beaten them then placed them back in until the next time. I’m broken, the cracks in my soul are too big to tape up. I fight with myself each and every day. When I first came, into this godforsaken hellhole, I fought with whomever came near me, or whomever tried to bring me down, I would pummel my pain into them in the hope it would erase the hurt in my soul. It didn’t work but it did give me a rep as a brawler, slotted a lot then out and placed into this MMA program to unleash my fits in a controlled setting, like that’ll work Not in the manner they had wanted or expected from a demon as dark as me.
Broken (Reapers Reign, #1) Page 19