Chapter Thirteen
Jett
Lance is talking, but I don’t hear a damn thing he’s saying. My eyes are locked onto the sad boy sitting beside him.
Everest.
We were given a file on him last week. The moment I laid eyes on his photograph, I knew.
I’ve probably read over his paperwork a hundred times since then, and I’ve memorized everything there is to know about him.
He worked in the media industry. Not famous but pretty well known.
Him and his best friend arrived here together, but they’ve been assigned to different blocks.
We’ve been ordered to keep them separate, but they didn’t tell us why.
The reason he’s here is confidential, which I imagine is standard protocol for all inmates, but I don’t really know because I’ve never done this before.
He’s intelligent, crafty, and quick on his feet.
Witty. He enjoys writing and we’re supposed to allow him to write as much as he wants, so long as he can manage to get the supplies to do it.
I’ve been here for a while now, and I know exactly what that means. We all know what it means. The thing is… prisoners don’t need anything. They provide them with everything they need to survive. I know because I was one.
I’m still one.
Lance continues talking, but Everest and I haven’t looked away from one another for even a second.
He’s leaned back lazily on his bed with his legs spread wide and one arm propped on his desk.
He owns the space, not just physically, but…
I don’t know. He demands all of my attention without uttering a single word.
He nods along to whatever Lance is saying, but I doubt that he has any idea what he’s going on about either.
Everest stares back at me with eyes that are a deep blue and appear to be just as angry as the ocean.
They swirl with an unspoken disapproval that makes me want to retreat, which is asinine because I’m in charge of him.
He has dark floppy hair that almost parts down the middle, and he has a line shaved into his eyebrow.
When Lance glances over at me, Everest reaches up with his left hand and scratches his nose with his middle finger.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m staring, or if he’s just an asshole.
His nails are painted black, and he’s wearing jewelry that I know he won’t be able to take inside the cell with him.
It’s kind of cute how guarded he is, so I give him a smirk, hoping to relax him a bit.
I’m not here to make his life hell. In fact, I was friends with the guards I used to have.
I know how stressful this can be, and I’m just here to get him settled in.
He doesn’t take the bait though, instead rolling his eyes before fully turning his attention to Lance when the chair slides across the floor with a loud screech.
“Anyway, it’s time for me to get out of your hair.” Lance says as he grabs the empty tray in front of Everest and starts heading toward me. I hold the door open for him as he steps out into the hallway.
“See you tomorrow, Everest.” He nods with a smile before walking away.
I close the door behind him and pull off my backpack. I let it fall to the empty mattress across from Everest before I pull my jacket off and lay it across the foot of the bed.
“Make yourself right at home.” He says as he picks at his nail polish.
“Considering this is my home for the next two days as well, I planned on it.” I reply as I sit down on the edge of the bed.
I don’t know why he seems to not like me already, but I’m hopeful that I can change that.
Lance didn’t seem thrown off by him at all, and he’s much more emotionally driven than I am, so Everest had to have been nice to him.
“I brought cards. Do you like cards?” I ask as I bounce my knee up and down anxiously.
“No.”
“Okay… umm. Have you already showered today?”
“No.”
“We can go ahead and get that out of the way if you want.”
“Sure,” he replies dryly before getting up and starting to rummage around in his luggage. I do the same thing, opening up my backpack and grabbing my wet bag for the bathroom and my change of clothes. He starts to walk toward the bathroom attached to his room, and I have to stop him.
“You aren’t allowed to use that shower anymore. They’re making us take you to the bathhouse for your assigned block now.”
He glares back at me in exasperation. “Seriously?”
I throw my hands up to show my innocence. “I’m just following orders.”
He lets out a breath of resignation, and waves toward the door as he shakes his head. “Fine. Let’s go.”
I lead the way, trying to keep a steady pace that allows him to walk beside me. I know he hasn’t seen much of the actual prison, so I want to give him time to take everything in. He’s so quiet, too quiet, and I can’t help wondering what’s running through his head.
How did he end up here? What are his hobbies? What is his best friend like? Where is he from? Does he have any family? How many tattoos does he have? Was he dating anyone? Is he a top or a bottom? Both?
God, I hope he’s vers.