Chapter 4
Day One: Prison Life
Jordan
I woke up at dawn, not knowing where I was at first. I certainly wasn’t in my bed because my bed didn’t have a ceiling like the one that I found myself in.
I also lived alone, so no wonder the manly arm hanging from above added to my confusion.
Reality caught up with me soon enough when I became aware of the sounds in the distance.
Snoring, yelling, farting, and other noises cleared it all up.
Jesus Christ. So, it wasn’t a dream, despite Adam Markland’s arm so close to my face.
Speaking of Adam, was he still asleep? Or was he awake, thinking about the cruel twist of fate that made us end up here?
Was he still dressed only in his boxers?
It was, stupidly enough, my main takeaway from last night—the sight of Adam Markland in his boxers.
First, I never expected to find myself in a situation where I would see him in his underwear.
Second, he was manly as fuck. Big as a mountain, built like a tank, and hairy.
Not too hairy, but… perfectly hairy. His biceps were ridiculous, and his chest looked as if it were made of solid rock.
I was a sucker for a big, muscular chest, so no wonder I couldn’t stop staring.
His abs were a work of art, his thighs were thick like tree trunks, and he was…
well, he was packing. The way his bulge was sticking out said a lot, but it also brought me to my third point—anger boners.
Since I didn’t hate him today as much as yesterday, but my dick was equally hard, it would be fair to say that I was attracted to Adam Markland.
With that out of the way, I felt… worse.
First, he was a colleague. Second, we were in prison on an undercover assignment.
Third, he hated me since he laid eyes on me.
Fourth, he was rude to me as a rule, aside from yesterday, which could be an anomaly.
Fifth, he was straight. Sixth, even if he wasn’t straight and if he didn’t hate me, he didn’t strike me as a person who would ride a dick.
It meant I would be the one riding it, which was something I couldn’t imagine, to be honest.
So, yeah, I was in trouble, and not just because I spent half the night awake thanks to my boner.
I was supposed to live with him in this matchbox-sized room for an indefinite period of time.
It meant embarrassing hard-ons, aching balls, and sleepless nights in the days to come.
Also, it was time for me to throw that asexuality theory out of the window because I was a lot of things, but not a hypocrite.
“Morning, princess.”
The low voice above me both startled me and made me laugh. Those certainly weren’t the words I expected to hear this morning.
“Morning, pumpkin,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“I didn’t sleep at all. I’m an insomniac.”
“No shit? I didn’t know that about you.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Did you get some sleep?”
Not really, because I had a boner thanks to you.
No! Jesus.
“A bit,” I replied, feeling warm in the face. “I doubt anyone sleeps on their first night in jail.”
“That’s a scientific fact, actually,” Adam said, climbing off the bed.
Yup, still in his boxers. Still manly as fuck. I tried not to look at him while he was dressing, which proved to be a serious challenge. Shit, how could I be attracted to Adam, of all people?
“Now what?” I asked him, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
“Breakfast, I presume, so you’d better get dressed. That is, unless you want to face the guards in your cute little briefs.”
Cute? I looked down at my crotch, whining internally. Why did I think that neon blue briefs were suitable for prison? Oh, right, I wasn’t thinking straight because I was crushing on my colleague. No, not crushing. Lusting. Yeah, that sounded marginally better.
We’d barely finished getting ready when the guard stopped by our cell.
“Rise and shine, new fishes,” he said flatly. “This is something we call inmate count, and it will happen a lot. Stand in line, please.”
We did what he said, mumbling a “good morning” as he gave us a once-over.
“Mr. Mayhew and Mr. Smith,” he said, smirking. “Welcome to the Grangetown Correctional Facility. Try not to party too hard.”
He was hilarious, just like our fake last names, although we kept our first names for convenience. After that, breakfast was delivered to our cell, which surprised me.
“They’re doing things differently here,” Adam explained to me later. “Breakfast and lunch are served in the cells. Dinner is the only meal served in the chow hall. They changed the routine a few years back because they had too many violent incidents.”
“No wonder, since they sent all the worst criminals here,” I said. “Couldn’t they scatter them around the country or something?”
Adam chuckled. “And where would be the fun in that?”
When he sat down on the lower bunk next to me, I winced against my will. I still wasn’t used to him being so close to me. Usually, he avoided the room I was in, although, to be fair, this wasn’t an option here.
“What did we get?” I said, opening the breakfast pack. “And is it edible?”
Adam peeked into his pack. “Toast, peanut butter, jelly, milk, and an apple. Eh, I’ve had worse.”
“When you say you had worse, where was it and what was it?”
His expression told me that it wasn’t a pleasant memory.
“Here and there. This and that. Stop thinking and eat, weirdo.”
I made a face. “Don’t call me that.”
“Stop thinking and eat, princess?”
“That’s hardly better,” I said, pushing my breakfast away. “You can have mine if you want. I have no appetite.”
“You have to eat.”
“You’re so much better at this,” I grumbled. “How can you be so calm?”
When Adam touched my knee, making me look at him, I blinked in disbelief. His blue eyes were so close to me that I felt as if I’d dived into an ocean.
“This is important, Jordan, so listen up,” Adam said, looking serious.
“You’ve been assigned to the kitchen, and I to the laundry, which means we won’t see each other for a while.
I will meet you here at lunchtime, but until then, lay low and keep your mouth shut.
I’ll kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way, but let’s try to prevent that, yeah? ”
I nodded, too stunned to speak. His overprotectiveness wasn’t unexpected, but he’d never vocalized it before. Also, since we came here, he’d behaved like a different person. He actually talked to me. He even smiled at me a few times, which was shocking, to say the least.
“Where’s asshole Adam?” I blurted. “Did we lose him along the way?”
“Still here, don’t worry. However, since we’re surrounded by the criminally insane, we need to watch each other’s backs. Sounds reasonable?”
It sounded like a dream, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it because I spent the next few hours slicing and dicing in the kitchen.
The guy chopping cabbage next to me was chatty, but it was a welcome distraction, and he seemed harmless.
He was a skinny dude with curly hair tied into a ponytail and a thin mustache he was unsuccessfully growing.
“Name’s Miguel,” he chirped, looking way too comfortable with a knife in his hand.
“I turned twenty-two in this shithole, believe it or not. Six months here, but it feels like six years. My first time in a slammer, too. I’m innocent, though.
Just paying off someone’s debt because life’s a bitch. You’re new, huh? Whatcha in for?”
I listened to Adam’s advice and kept it short. “Drugs.”
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t have guessed it by the looks of you. You seem nice, though, so I’ll give you some advice. Stay away from the Reapers. You’re pretty, and their leader likes them pretty.”
I frowned. “I’m not pretty. And who are the Reapers?”
“Well, basically, we have two power players here. The Reapers are bad news. Stabbers. Sodomites. Their leader, Skull Crusher, is serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Armed robbery, murder, setting a school bus on fire with children in it... You name it, he did it. He’s never leaving this place, and what he wants he takes by force.
If I were you, I would grow eyes on my ass. ”
“Peachy,” I murmured. “What about the other ones?”
“Santiago and his goons. No one dares touch him because of his connection to Bull, the cartel boss. Santiago has guards’ protection, so don’t get on his bad side. In fact, stay away from him altogether, because his enemies have the habit of OD’ing.”
My ears pricked up when he mentioned Santiago, but I refrained from asking questions.
“I don’t plan on making any enemies here,” I said instead.
“You’re funny,” Miguel said, chuckling. “I like you. My boyfriend would like you too, because he likes them comedic types. You got someone waiting for you at home? I bet you do, as cute as you are. Do you know how I know? You look in love. You have that dreamy look about you. I’m right, right?
I bet you have a nice girl on the outside.
Or a cute boy such as yourself, maybe? A lot of options these days, so don’t keep me guessing.
Wait, I know! How about a sexy, macho guy, eh? Dime la verdad.”
The last option made my cheeks burn.
“I don’t have anyone,” I mumbled. “In fact, I’m asexual. Kind of.”
Miguel frowned in confusion. “What’s that, cabrón?”
“It’s when you don’t need sex at all.”
He gasped. “No way such a thing exists, man. I had no idea.”
I smiled for the first time since I entered the Grangetown Correctional Facility. Miguel’s words got me thinking, though.
“So, um…” I said, playing with a potato peel. “How do you know… how do you know you’re gay? I mean… unless it’s like a friend thing or something.”
Miguel gazed into the distance thoughtfully.