Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
There’s a roughness to his voice that sounds a lot like emotion catching in his throat. My fists ball at my sides, violence brewing. My hands tremble, but Lory’s soft hand wraps itself around mine, holding it still and tight, and the rising tension leaches out of me. If I let her experience the violence in me, maybe she won’t want to stay. If I let out the side that earned me my nickname, she’ll beg Grady to pull her out of here.
“Send Wilson down,” I say. “We’ll deal with him.”
At my side, Lory flinches, and I bite my tongue, frustrated that I that my mouth has a mind of its own. On the outside, violence isn’t a part of life for most people. Here, it’s a daily threat. It comes too easy. It’s expected. But Lory doesn’t expect it from me. She helps me be better.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” Kinkaid says, folding his arms across his chest and straightening his posture. “But we need some certainty about what’s going to happen, especially to Lory. She needs to get paid, even if she’s not here for as long as initially agreed.”
“She will be.”
“And we’ll want you to check in on her on the outside to make sure there isn’t any carryover from her visit here.”
“I can do that.”
Kinkaid loses some of the RoboCop about his stance, obviously relieved, and I feel the same. I throw my arm around Lory’s petite shoulder, pulling her close and pressing a hard kiss to her head. Kinkaid is right. He’s looking out for our girl.
Our girl.
My mind stumbles. Lory isn’t ours. She can’t be. But damn, I want her to be. I can’t think about her leaving, about the world outside these walls where other men will want her as much as we do. She’s sweeter than honey and so beautiful it makes my chest ache just to look at her. Sometimes, I stay awake to watch her sleep, wondering what she dreams about.
The thought of her being gone... it’s going to tear me up inside. And when I hurt, I spiral. I can’t go back to that darkness—not again. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m left here, empty-handed, with nothing but memories of her. Something stupid, probably. Something that’ll add more years to my sentence when all I want is to get out of this place and taste freedom again.
“I’ll be back,” the warden says, breaking the moment as he turns to leave. “Sorry about what happened to your sister.”
Rocks the one to follow Grady to the door like he’s showing the man out after a cookout. That illusion shatters when the door locks us in again. But all I can think about is Lory slipping away, taking a piece of me with her when she goes.
“Time to eat.” Kinkaid bends to pick up a bag from the floor. He won’t open a conversation about what’s going to happen next until Lory’s in the bathroom. It’s the only time we get to have a three-way discussion without dragging our sweet girl into topics she’s better off not knowing about. I heft the other bag to the kitchen, and we work together to unpack our rations.
I’m grateful for the food, but something about it rankles me today. Lory’s talk about cooking for us last night has made me crave going to the store to pick out what I want to eat. I’m sick of being forced to eat whatever’s on my plate like a child. This food isn’t designed to nourish. It’s designed to fill a hole.
Maybe I would be good at baking if I was given the chance to find out. Maybe I could use these hands for something other than theft and violence. I like the idea of pounding big balls of dough to work out my anger. Maybe it would keep me level.
More prepackaged meals and basics like bread and butter, milk, and coffee are lifted from the bags. Grady has packed us some donuts, which smell sweet and oily, and some chocolate muffins. I bet Lory bakes better than this shop-bought crap but the only way I’d get to find out is as a free man.
Kinkaid’s quick to smear some bread with peanut butter and make coffee.
“Should we ration this, too?” I ask. There’s no way I want to worry about Lory not having enough to eat again.
“I think we’re good.” Kinkaid devours half the roughly formed sandwich, closely followed by Rock.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I’m really hungry and want to know I’m not overstepping by filling my belly.
Kinkaid and Rock keep mostly quiet through breakfast. Lory is conscious of everything that we’re not discussing in the open. Her eyes dart between us like she’s waiting, and I hate the buzzing anticipation. It reminds me of when I used to watch my mom’s boyfriend cracking open can after can of cheap beer, knowing he was going to do something terrible when he was drunk enough. I can’t take it like the others, so I head to the bathroom and shower off the stench of desperation that’s clinging to my skin. On my thigh, the devil’s eyes glow through the soapsuds, and I shudder, reminded of how I felt when I walked into the tattoo parlor. When I put it on me, it was an act of rebellion. I was dark and getting darker and labeling myself with what I thought fitted. It’s hard to place the way I am now with how I felt then. That man had the potential to do anything. He had a hair-trigger temper and was always too close to the edge. Now, I want to be more like Kinkaid, with his careful responses and deeply controlled temper, and Rock, who’s thoughtful and gentle despite his size. I want Lory to want me in the same way she wants them. She wouldn’t want Hyde. Not on outside these walls. But maybe I could be better. Maybe I could be James again.