Chapter 7
Day Four: The Stupidest Thought in the World
Jordan
When I woke up, my skull was split in half, or it felt like it.
My mouth tasted like a sewer and probably smelled worse.
My eyelids felt glued together when I tried to move them, so I decided not to bother.
The warm body behind mine told me I was spooning with someone, and the morning wood poking me in the ass told me it was.
.. well, morning. I felt so sick I wished I could die, and it was the only thing that made me move.
I started to straighten up, but the heavy arm wrapped around my waist had other ideas.
It pulled me back with force until my ass reconnected with the stiff organ I’d felt earlier.
When the contents of my stomach rose to my throat, I pushed the arm away and jumped to my feet.
I barely had enough time to reach the toilet bowl before puking my guts out.
“Mr. Mayhew. Mr. Smith. Good morning.”
I wiped the puke off my chin, only to see Guard Asshole smirking at me. He was standing at the door with two more guards who looked equally amused. At that point, Adam raised his head, looking groggy and disoriented.
“I apologize for the interruption, gentlemen,” Guard Asshole said. “It’s time for a cell search.”
Things went from bad to worse to catastrophic in mere seconds. I scrambled to my feet, leaning against the wall because I felt as if I were about to faint. Adam stood up too, but I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching, which wasn’t a good sign.
“Do you have an explanation for this?” Guard Asshole pointed at the mattresses on the floor.
“They have been warned before.” One of his colleagues informed him.
Guard Asshole chuckled. “Is that so? Perhaps these two lovebirds weren’t introduced to the rules of our establishment. Were they introduced to the rules of our establishment, Guard Douglas?”
“Yes, sirree.”
“So, they know that disobeying those rules could result in punishment?”
“Yes, sirree.”
“What’s this?” Guard Douglas said, shoving a plastic bottle in my face. “And don’t tell me it’s shampoo.”
“It’s a hair conditioner, actually,” Adam said coolly.
Guard Asshole sneered. “So, you’re a comedian, too? Not just a lowlife, a criminal, and a dumb son of a bitch, but also a comedian.”
“Yes, siree,” Adam said, making my throat tighten because… why was he provoking him?
“Funny guy. Are you responsible for the contraband in that bottle?”
“Yes, I am,” Adam replied.
“No!” I exclaimed, stumbling toward them. “I was the—”
“Shut up, weirdo!” Adam snapped, throwing a towel at me. “Stop embarrassing me and wipe that puke off your face.”
“That’s it,” Guard Asshole growled, snapping his fingers. “Cuff the comedian and take him to the hole. He needs a day or two to cool off.”
I was sure I would barf again as I watched the guards handcuff Adam and take him out of the cell.
After they were gone, I plopped down on the bunk because my legs gave out.
First, I was stupid enough to smuggle booze into our cell, causing this disaster.
Second, Adam took the fall for me, which made me feel like the worst person in the world.
Third, why would he do that? If anyone deserved solitary confinement, it was me, not him.
After breakfast, which I didn’t touch because I felt sick inside and out, they sent me to the kitchen.
Miguel wasn’t there, so I couldn’t take it out on him, since I blamed him for this nightmare.
I kept glancing at the clock as the moments dragged on, but it was probably a lullaby compared to how Adam felt.
After lunch, which I didn’t eat because I was still nauseous, came visiting time.
I saw Mendoza on the way to the visitors’ hall, which meant Biancchi was keeping his promise.
It made me feel marginally better, but Adam’s absence was a constant reminder of my fuck-up.
In the afternoon, they sent me to the yard, where Miguel found me pacing from wall to wall like a lunatic.
“Yo, cabrón,” he said, grinning. “Did you have a good time last night?”
“I will kill you, Miguel!” I hissed, suppressing the need to punch him. “You have no idea what you caused.”
He blinked. “Que?”
“I got drunk, Adam got drunk, and then we fell asleep. In the morning, the guards searched our cell, and now Adam is in the hole because of me. And because of you.”
Miguel shrugged. “I didn’t push that sweet nectar down your throat, cabrón.”
“I know, but it makes me feel better when I have someone else to blame,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead in frustration. “How could I have been so stupid? And please don’t call it sweet nectar. I puked the soul out of my body, and I’m walking around with a metaphorical axe stuck in my skull.”
“Hehe, it takes time to get used to the good stuff,” Miguel joked. “My aunt calls it the truth serum.”
“The truth serum,” I snorted, only to freeze on the spot. Something about his words didn’t sound right. I racked my brain trying to figure out what, when a fragment of a memory flashed through my mind.
Lips against mine.
I frowned, struggling to think, but the more I tried to remember, the further the memory slipped away.
Arms around me.
I gulped as cold sweat washed over me, and my heart picked up speed.
“You okay, my man? You’re pale like my grandma’s ass,” Miguel said, but he sounded as if he were galaxies away.
God, no. Please, God, no. Please, please, I beg you, let it not be. Please, God.
I could have begged until my dying day, but what happened, happened. What I did, I did. I couldn’t remember what I did exactly, but I did something. I knew it, just as I knew I needed air to breathe. But what did I do? How much did I screw up?
“I’m fine, Miguel,” I said, stumbling across the yard. I needed some time to think. I also had to calm down because my heart threatened to burst out of my chest.
“Who pissed on your parade?”
At the sound of a familiar voice behind me, I made a face.
“Please, not you. I can’t deal with you right now.”
I leaned against the wall, hyperventilating, before meeting Mendoza’s amused expression. It was strange how such a good-looking man could have such a rotten personality.
“So, you two are here because of Santiago?” Mendoza mused. “I should’ve guessed it.”
“Will you keep your end of the bargain?” I asked him. “I presume you met with Biancchi.”
“Yeah, I will keep my end of the bargain. And yes, I saw Marc.”
Something about the way he said his name caught my attention. I looked at Mendoza, but he was gazing into the distance with a strange expression on his face.
“You don’t hate him,” I stated. “Biancchi, I mean. Everyone thinks you do, but you don’t.”
Mendoza shrugged. “I don’t know how I feel about him.”
I had an inkling, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Is it revenge you’re after?” I asked him. “Or closure? And after you have it, will you leave Bianchhi alone?”
Something ugly crossed Mendoza’s face, and his eyes hardened.
“Marc betrayed me. I will never leave him alone.”
“Why don’t you just talk to him?” I suggested. “Tell him how you feel.”
“No,” Mendoza was resolute. “He tricked me. He lied to me. For that, he will suffer.”
I shook my head, wondering why life had to be so complicated.
“Incidentally, where’s your grumpy partner?” Mendoza said, looking around. “Usually, you’re attached at the hip.”
I made a face that probably gave him my reply because he laughed.
“You should see your expression, cop. Also, stay away from gambling dens unless you want to lose a lot of money.”
“I don’t need your advice,” I bit out.
“Did you and the grump fall out?”
“I fucked up,” I said curtly, not bothering to lie. “And now I need to unfuck it.”
“I know what you should do,” Mendoza said with mock excitement. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”
After he threw my advice back in my face, he left me alone with my thoughts, which was even worse than talking to him.
I was wallowing in self-pity until dinner, putting it on hold when Skull Crusher decided to visit me.
It happened just as I was debating with myself whether I should eat the meatloaf after I found a worm in it.
“Hey there, cutie,” Crusher said, stopping by my table with a grin and a boner. “Did you miss me?”
“Not really,” I replied, taking a sip of water.
“Where’s your scarred pal with a death wish?” Crusher said, scowling. “I have something nice and sharp waiting for him. After I’m done with him, I’m coming for you, but it won’t be a knife you’ll be taking, but something bigger.”
He sneered before leaving, just as I was considering shoving my spork into his eye.
It wouldn’t kill him, but maybe it would maim him or at least disable him from locating me or my ass.
After I returned to the empty cell, I spent the night sitting on the bunk and counting the minutes.
It was probably the longest night of my life, but I deserved every agonizing second of it.
When they finally brought Adam back, it was dawn, at least judging by the piece of the sky I could see through the bars.
I swiftly stood up, not knowing whether to feel relieved or worried.
Adam looked tired above everything else, which meant he hadn’t slept at all.
He had several days’ worth of scruff, reminding me that neither of us had shaved since we came here.
His gaze wouldn’t meet mine as the guards uncuffed him, and after they left, he headed to the sink to wash his face.
“I’m sorry,” I squeaked, because my throat wouldn’t cooperate. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said, drying his face with a towel.
“It was dumb what I did. If I could take it back, I would. You have no idea how sorry I am, Adam.”
“As I said, it’s fine.”
“Why did you take the fall for me?” I asked him, exasperated by his flat tone. “I deserved the hole, not you.”
This time, he remained silent, adding another nail in my coffin.
“How was it down there?” I asked him the stupidest question in the world.
“It was certainly an experience,” he said dryly, finally bothering to look at me. “Are you all right?”
I let out a sigh of frustration. “I’m fine.”
His gaze slid down my body in a way that could be described only as proprietary… as ludicrous as it sounded.
“Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”
“No. I talked to Mendoza, though. I think he meant it when he said he would help us with Santiago.”
“So, Biancchi came?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you see Crusher?”
I ducked my head as my cheeks turned warm. “Briefly. During dinner.”
Adam’s eyes flashed in anger. “Don’t tell me that asshole dared to try something.”
“No, but you should watch your back. He is on a warpath.”
“Yeah, well, he can go fuck himself.”
When the blue gaze found mine, and an awkward silence ensued, I swallowed with difficulty.
“Um, I…” I paused, hesitating. “I have been meaning to ask you something. Last night was a bit of a blur, and—”
“I’m tired, Jordan,” Adam interrupted me. “We still have an hour or two before breakfast, and I would like to spend it sleeping, if that’s alright with you.”
“Yeah, of course. It’s just that I don’t remember much and—”
When Adam threw the mattress on the floor, I couldn’t help but flinch. Another mattress landed next to it.
“Lie down, Jordan,” Adam said with a weary sigh.
“Um, okay…” I muttered. “It’s just that, in case something happened, I—”
“Nothing happened.”
“Okay, but in case it did, I just—”
“Nothing fucking happened!” Adam bellowed, startling me. “How many times do I have to say it, weirdo?”
I swallowed a mixture of anger, pain, and pride as he ran his hand over his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a softer tone. “I didn’t get any sleep, and I’m exhausted. Can you please lie down and present your ass to me so I can close my eyes for a short while?”
I blinked. “What?”
“I meant your back,” he corrected himself. “Present your back to me. That’s what I wanted to say.”
When a goofy smile appeared on his face, I felt a smidgeon of relief. I even managed to smile back.
“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Adam said with a heavy sigh. “I can scarcely keep my eyes open. Do what I said. Please.”
So, I did, and we spent the next two hours spooning, with him sleeping like the dead and me wide awake. It was when the stupidest thought in the world occurred to me, and I had a lot of those lately.
Maybe you can make him like you back.
Like I said, the stupidest thought in the world.