Chapter 2 The Crime Lord
The Crime Lord
Nikolai
I cling to the shadows of my cell, away from the cameras or any prying eyes, for that matter.
The guard watching me makes it a habit to stalk by my cell and sneer at me as if I’m scum beneath his feet.
It’s laughable because I know him…rather…
I know his type—always the self-righteous Boy Scout until the price is right and the risk is worth the reward.
He’s wearing a gold wedding band.
Big mistake.
From what I can tell, the officer is in his early to mid-forties.
He’s probably been with his wife long enough that she doesn’t care anymore about the pudginess around his midsection from the lack of exercise and too many donuts.
Or the thinning at the top of his head. She only cares about the check he brings home that keeps a roof over their heads and pays their children’s college tuition.
He has no rank on his uniform, which suggests he’s either shitty at his job or that being a correctional officer is a recent career change.
Both.
“It’s feeding time, asshole!” Officer McDaniel bellows. He opens the slot to the cell, which is big enough to pass a tray of food through, and launches it. The stainless steel tray clatters against the floor, splattering the dismal contents of meatloaf and mashed potatoes onto the concrete.
I push myself off the wall with a heavy sigh and become excited when I detect the fear in his eyes as I approach him. He tries to hold back his astonishment at my size but fails.
I haven’t been compared to a bear my entire life for no reason.
I stop at the bars and pull a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket—the one simple comfort they’ve allowed me in this prison that feels like paradise compared to a gulag.
“Light?” I say brusquely.
“F-fuck off,” he stammers.
“Where is all this hostility coming from, McDaniel? Are things okay at home?”
“Back…the hell up!” he demands, drawing out his taser. I snort.
That piece of shit taser won’t do anything to me—a little tickle at best.
“How are the wife and kids, hm?”
“What do you know about my family?” he snaps, getting dangerously close to the bars and my reach.
“Your daughter is the spitting image of her mother.”
“How do you know about my Karen?!”
So…he has a daughter named Karen, huh? What will he give me next? Her fucking social security number?
“I know a lot of things,” I mock, all the while not knowing jack shit.
The dipshit officer deploys the taser, and the prongs bounce against the bars instead of hitting me.
His mounting frustration leads him to make a critical mistake.
His eyes cartoonishly widen, and his mouth gapes in surprise when I reach through the bars and grab him by the front of his shirt.
I yank him toward me, bouncing his head against the steel bars.
I repeatedly pummel him against the bars with a grin while his face becomes more and more disfigured.
“Let him go, or I’ll put a hot bullet between your eyes,” a soft voice demands.
I glance toward Officer McDaniel’s savior—a black woman with a look on her face that screams, “Don’t fucking try me.
” I release that smug bastard, and I’m briefly satisfied when he crumples to the ground in a heap of high cholesterol and poor judgment.
Mama always said I’m unluckier than a black cat, but that can’t be true because look what the cat dragged in—a delectable mouse to do with what I please.
I lick my lips, and my dick stiffens harder than the bars that imprison me as I assess her.
She’s tall, possibly 5’9”, with curves her uniform fails to conceal.
Her warm almond skin is bright and blemish-free, and her cat-like eyes are so sharp that a single glare could cut me like a knife.
My eyes trail down to those luscious lips beneath a button nose.
Those…fucking…lips….
They’re so mouthwateringly gorgeous that I want to find every man she’s wrapped her plump lips around and viciously end him and his entire bloodline.
My dick pulses in my cotton blend prison-issued boxers, and the fabric strangles against my bulge as I continue to grow when she crouches to check the guard’s pulse.
“You look good down there,” I say gruffly.
She fixes those earthy brown eyes on me, and they’re so full of lust that they might spill over.
Her eyes snap down to my bulge. She roughly clears her throat, and a sliver of her bubble gum pink tongue dabs her bottom lip.
She snaps out of her lustful haze when Officer McDick groans.
“Officer McDaniel, are you okay?” she asks once he starts to rouse. He sits up, and I smirk at his skewed nose.
“H-he broke my teeth and my nose,” he admits, pulling himself off the floor.
“How did this happen?” she questions.
“We were having what I thought was a polite conversation, and then he tried to tase me. I was only defending myself,” I confess.
She rolls her eyes dismissively.
That’s a nasty habit I’ll have to break.
“Do you need help to the infirmary?” she asks the fallen officer.
“I can’t wait until they fry your ass!” Officer McDaniel growls at me before storming away.
“Tell your wife and daughter I said hello!” I shout after him.
The door to the basement slams shut, and it’s just me and the enchantress. She returns her gun to her holster and tries but fails to make herself seem bigger in my presence as if she’s trying to scare away a bear she encountered in the woods.
“My name is Officer Talbert.”
“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Officer Talbert,” I say, grasping the bars in my hands. She seems shocked by my politeness but gives me a nod of acknowledgment.
As the saying goes, you catch more flies with honey. I just need her to take the bait.
“I’ve been tasked with guarding you in the evenings until you depart our facility. It’s in your best interest that we don’t have a repeat of what happened between you and Officer McDaniel.”
“Don’t provoke me, and we won’t,” I warn.
“That won’t be an issue. What happened to your food tray? Did you throw it on the floor?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“What I know is that there are 287 counts against you, and you may never see the light of day again.”
“Two hundred eighty-seven? That’s all?”
“Make that 289 for assault on an officer and attempted murder.”
“What does the ‘M’ stand for?”
“Excuse me?” she asks, furrowing her brows in confusion.
“Officer M. Talbert.”
“Oh, it stands for mind your fucking business.”
My brow jumps in disbelief.
No one ever talks to me like that and lives to tell the tale, but…I think I can make an exception for Officer Mind Your Fucking Business Talbert.
“Good thing I’ve made it my mission to make you my business.”
She snorts at my response.
“Would you like me to get you another tray of food?”
“Yes…but there is something you should know.”
“Yes?”
“When I get out of here…you’re mine.”