Chapter 2
Two
Chin up. Tits out. You got this.
—Ramsey’s personal pep talk.
Ramsey
A solid punch to the right solar plexus was enough to knock the wind right out of my lungs.
But I’d been fighting for my life for seven years now.
I wouldn’t let some sneak attack kill me.
With a solid twist, my elbow connected with the man’s jaw.
I heard the solid crack and knew that I’d just broken his jaw.
Blood poured down my eyebrow.
I’d need more stitches.
Great.
“Break it up!”
I backed away, blood now pouring down the length of my face, down my neck and across my chest.
“You, solitary.”
I rolled my eyes.
A guard roughly caught my arm and yanked me to the side.
I went, because I’d found that fighting the guards was pointless.
They were all fucking crooked, but they controlled my life in here.
Fighting them only made it worse.
Speaking of worse, I’d only thought that things couldn’t get any worse in this hellish place.
Yet, after refusing to sign the divorce papers, I’d experienced just that.
Soon, I’d be dead.
And I thought that might be okay.
I still had eight years to go on this sentence and probably wouldn’t make it that long.
I wasn’t getting any younger.
And it wasn’t like I had any friends in this god-forsaken place that would help protect me.
I…
“Kelly.”
I looked over to see the warden standing there looking pissed.
Another really large man stood next to him, looking even more intimidating than the warden.
Not that I couldn’t take either man.
I could.
I’d been fighting for my life for seven years.
I could take both of them simultaneously.
But the warden controlled what I ate. When I ate. When I slept. When I pissed and shit.
He could make life here worse, and we both knew it.
The guard holding my arm paused.
“Take him to the meeting room.”
Great.
Another “meeting.”
Just what I wanted to hear.
When I got there, it was to find that it wasn’t anyone that I expected it to be.
In the seven years that passed, the only ones that ever came to see me were Dario and Devin.
Dario let it slip once that Sage was kept from visiting.
Every time she tried, she was sent away.
And she tried.
A lot.
It was probably best for her to stay away.
Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from writing her.
She was my wife, after all.
But this man?
This man wasn’t one I’d ever seen.
He also looked vaguely familiar.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The man grinned. “My name is Apollo. I’m going to get you out of here.”
I blinked. “How?”
“That man you saw out there with the warden?”
I nodded warily.
“That’s another warden of a prison. He’s got a transfer to take you to his prison. They are going to riot and you’re going to escape on the way there.”
I wasn’t sure how that was possible but…why the hell not?