by Jordan Marie
All of those wishes and silly dreams are blown out of the water when his harsh, barking voice rings out and stops me in my tracks.
“Who the fuck are you?”
2
Max
I’ve given up on hope. Hope doesn’t exist. It hasn’t since five years ago when I heard the sound of cold metal slamming shut, and I began my stay at the Ormond County Correctional and Rehabilitation Institution. Hope left that day, and it hasn’t returned. Life took on the dull gray color of the prison itself, and I became a creature who didn’t live. I only existed.
Today is my parole hearing. My fourth to be exact. It doesn’t mean shit. They’re not going to set me free. That doesn’t happen when you kill a man. I don’t give a fuck. I find I don’t give a fuck about anything these days. I haven’t in a long time. I won’t get parole because every time a bunch of stiff-necked suits ask me if I feel remorse for my crime, I laugh.
I killed the man who murdered my wife. She was a whore. I didn’t love her, didn’t even like her. But I did love the child she was carrying. So I hunted him down, and I squeezed the life out of him with my bare hands. I watched as, bit by bit, the light drained from his eyes and just when he was about to die, I let the pressure off his neck and allowed him to gasp another breath. Then, I did it again. Rinse and repeat until finally I ended the motherfucker. I relished it. I spit on his corpse as I let him fall to the ground. I didn’t feel remorse. Shit, no. Instead, I got the first fucking hard on I’d had in months.
A machine-made sound buzzes and the retracting of my cell door begins. I stand there as Officer Jenkins comes into view. He’s a cocky asshole who gets his kicks out of beating prisoners, just because he can. I tower over him. Hell, I could snap him like a fucking twig. I’ve always restrained but as he looks at me a sneer on his face and spits at my shoes, I can’t help but wonder if two murders would send me to hell quicker? It might be worth the gamble.
“Let’s go, cupcake. Time for you to go and beg for freedom like the candy-ass you are,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me in front of him.
I don’t say anything; I don’t even change my facial expression. This piss-ant ain’t nothing to me. If I liked him, even marginally, I’d warn him there is a prison riot and break out planned for today. I might even go one step further and tell him he’s the one Hernandez, and his crew are planning on beating the shit out of. Hell, I’d even warn him about the jagged Coke bottle they had smuggled in and have been fixing up, just for his lily white ass. I don’t. The ass-reaming he’s going to get couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. We walk down a long hall, surrounded by prison cells on each side. I ignore the yelling, questions, and catcalls. I have a reputation as someone you do not fuck with, in this joint. That’s good enough for me. Hernandez tried to get me to join his crew for the breakout. I didn’t. There’s nothing waiting for me outside these doors. Not a fucking thing.
We make our way to the last set of steel doors, and they slide open as the guard on the other side lets us in. I’m escorted into an elevator where another guard joins us. I forget this one’s name. Byron or something like that, pretty decent guy. I’d warn him, but then he’d feel obligated to stop it, and that wouldn’t be good for me. So I don’t. My conscience has been colored gray like these fucking walls, too.
The small room where they hold the parole hearings hasn’t changed; neither has the smell. The smell of the prison permeates every inch of the place. If there is one thing I fucking hate the most about this place, it is the stink of it.
I’m placed at a small table that will face the panel. It’s a familiar routine. There will be a bunch of tight assed, fancy dressed assholes, who look as if my presence offends them. Hell, they need to get in line. My presence offends my own damn self.
I’m waiting for everyone to show up when she walks in.
Fucking hell! Who let her in here? She walks through the door looking lost. She is. She’s a damned baby thrown into an angry tank of sharks. She’s going to get eaten alive. She has hair the color of coffee, creamy and rich. It’s pulled on top of her head and wrapped in a bun. I’m sure it was meant to give her a matronly appearance. It does not. It exposes her neck and makes the beast in me want to bite into it while I bend her over the damn table she just put the briefcase on. She’s wearing black, dress pants that hug her slim thighs and a red silk shirt. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex and one look at her, and my dick is ready to come for days. Come all over her, to be exact. A picture of her buck-ass naked and covered in my jizz, from her thick apple lips to her fuck-me stilettos, cements in my mind.
“Who the fuck are you?” I bark at her, annoyed at the way my dick is standing at attention.
“I…I’m Mr. Barger’s paralegal,” she stumbles, her eyes widen in surprise, with a healthy dose of fear mixed in when she looks at me.
“Who the fuck is Mr. Barger?” I ask, doing my best to ignore the way her shirt exposes the mounds of her breasts when she bends over to look through her papers.
“Your lawyer, he was unavoidably detained. I’m here to stand in…”
“I don’t have a fucking lawyer!”
“The court appointed Mr. Barger to appear on your behalf. Now, if you’ll give me just a few minutes, we can get started. There are some things I’d like to go over with you before I address the panel.”
“I don’t want you addressing the panel,” I respond, and when it appears like she’s going to argue with me, I look at the guard who stayed to monitor me. “I don’t want her talking on my behalf. I want her gone.”
“Really Mr. Kincaid, if you would just…”
“Lady, my name is Max or Inmate number 91428, not Mr. Kincaid.”
“Fine, Mr. Kincaid, I mean Max, if you will just allow me to…”
“I don’t want counsel! I decline it. Now get the hell out.”
The guard finally stands up. Maybe he’ll actually do something. I need this little lamb out of here before the animals start to attack and eat her alive. She needs to be gone before we go into a full-blown riot. It would appear my conscious is not totally dead.
“Is there a problem?” The guard asks. If I weren’t worried about getting this chick out of here, I’d stop to roll my fucking eyes.
“Not at all officer. Please have a seat,” the woman interjects. “Now as I was saying, Mr. Barger was called out of town with an emergency. I am the one in the office most familiar with your case, and he sent me in his place. I’m Tessa Oliver, now if we could get started.”
“It would appear that the prisoner does not want your counsel, Ms. Oliver,” the guard says.
Gee ya think? Dumbass.
“No, he just didn’t realize…”
“Damn straight I don’t,” I interrupt before she can finish.
She looks back at me with shock, and there’s a fiery glint in her eyes that tells me I’ve just pissed her off. That might have been interesting had the alarm not sounded right then. She looks in the direction of the noise.
“What is…?” She asks. The guard, who already knows what the alarm means, breaks every rule in his training and runs out of the small room, leaving me alone with the woman.
“What’s going on?” She questions again, and this time she looks pale and scared. She should. I take a deep breath.
I didn’t want this. I have no fucking use for the game that’s about to be played. It’s too late; the die has been cast. If I leave her on her own, she will be dead or wishing for death by nightfall. I stand up. I’d be lying if I said my dick wasn’t twitching at the way I tower over her small, delicate frame, or at the way her eyes widen in real fear as she tries to step back from me. My hands are in shackles so I do the only thing I can. I take them both and lift them over her head and pull her back into me, letting the heavy chains rest on her chest and against her neck.
“You have just become a prisoner in a prison break.”
Her cry of fear competes with my growl of anger.
Fuck.
Glossary of Terms
Amante dulce
Sweet lover
Bella
Beautiful
Cielo
Sky
Has ido a hermano ahora
You’ve gone too far, brother.
Hermano
Brother
Lo siento, amor
I’m sorry, honey.
Loca
Crazy
Madre
Mother
Mi
My
Mujer
Woman
Pendejos
Assholes
Nunca dejar ir
Never let go.
Querida
Dear one
Si
Yes
Soy todo tuyo
I’m all yours.
Te amo
I love you.
Tengo miedo han sido capturados
I am afraid I have been captured.
Tio
Uncle
Final Note from the Author
I hope you guys enjoyed Skull and Beth’s introduction. I hated making this book a cliffhanger, honestly I tried every way I could to prevent it. The more the characters began talking, I just couldn’t. I had to give in completely. I promised I’d never do that and now I understand the struggle that an author has. You don’t want to disappoint your readers. You love them, (all of you), but you struggle to stay true to the characters. My compromise is that I’m going to kick my ass to get the books out superfast. Burned will pick up with this one. Skull and Beth will be featured in it, but it will contain Katie and Torch’s love story. I will have it to you next month (February 25th is the goal) and then Conquered, the final installment which is Skull and Beth’s Happy Ending will come your way in March.
Thank you so much for everything you’ve done to support me this past year. It’s been an amazing year and you have my undying gratitude. I love to hear from my readers! Please feel free to contact me!
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