3. Chapter 3

3

R ory had been inside for five days, and he knew one thing for certain.

Sebastian Claw hated him.

He tried to strike up safe conversation, but Sebastian always argued against him. One afternoon, Rory jokingly complained about the sausages tasting of rubber, only for Sebastian to call him ungrateful and promise to tell the inmates serving to spit in Rory’s food.

When he complimented the sun in the sky, Sebastian growled that it was too hot for him and he was sweating buckets, then he threw his damp towel at Rory’s face. Rory hadn’t been expecting it and inhaled Sebastian’s bitter sweat.

Any opinion—food, films, books, games—Sebastian had the opposing one. There was no common ground, and the five days felt a lot longer, more like five weeks of constantly hitting a brick wall, constantly being forced back, and being on edge. Never being able to say or do the right thing.

Outside the cell, Rory stayed close to Ollie and Captain. The three of them were their own group—one of many. Sebastian didn’t have a group as such. He didn’t always sit with the same people at breakfast, lunch and dinner, and out in the yard he refereed football for another group. He could move between most at ease, always welcome, but there were a few groups he didn’t approach, like Pauly’s table of thugs.

Any argument or scuffle on the wing, the inmates looked to Sebastian to sort it out, and things were usually cleared up without them all being forced back into their cells. He’d call out ‘enough’ or tell the inmates to ‘settle it in the gym’, which Rory found out meant boxing until someone forfeited and admitted defeat.

The officers didn’t intervene—they allowed the controlled fights, which were popular with all the inmates piling in to watch, to go ahead. Rory and Ollie kept to the back of the gym as a fight went ahead over a trivial argument that had erupted into threats on the wing.

Sebastian refereed and declared the eventual winner without protest from the defeated inmate or any of the men watching.

He held power in the wing, a respect that hadn’t been mentioned in the report Rory was made to study before he entered the prison.

There was no way in, no chance to get close.

Sebastian was as locked down as the prison itself.

Another scream woke Rory in the night, and he sat upright, pressing his hand to his heart. Captain’s calls echoed, but nothing he said ever made sense. It was garbled, muffled, and that made it even more unnerving.

“Poor bastard,” Sebastian mumbled.

“I know.”

“You should convince him to see the doc.”

“He doesn’t want to. Said he deserves to suffer.”

Sebastian snorted. “Can’t he find a way to suffer in silence? You know, not take us all down with him?”

Rory didn’t reply.

“How long’s he in for?” Sebastian asked.

“Five years.”

Sebastian rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Is that all? I wonder what he did.”

“No idea.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“No one asks what each other is in for. They ask about the time, the sentence, but never the crime, and yet we all find out anyway.”

“Maybe some people are ashamed, or they fear they’ll be targeted for their crimes.”

The bed shook, and Rory clutched on. He felt safer when Sebastian was below him, but when he stood naked as the day he was born in front of the bed, Rory’s heart started thumping.

“What did you do?” Sebastian asked.

“What?”

“There’s that word again.” Sebastian huffed. “Eight years, for what?”

“Drugs.”

“Drugs?”

“Smuggling, selling…”

“Using?”

Rory shook his head. “No, I didn’t use it. I knew what was in it.”

Sebastian laughed. “Yeah, I bet. You know what I’m in for, right?”

He leaned closer, and Rory shifted his head along the pillow to keep their distance.

“How would I know?”

Sebastian’s stare was so intense Rory was sure he saw his blue eyes shimmer, the same way animals’ eyes shone in low light. Then he took a step back and laughed.

“I told you sixteen years, remember? Why don’t you guess…”

“Murder,” Rory whispered.

“Who’s a clever boy. Murder. Do you know how I did it?”

Rory shook his head. “No.”

Sebastian chuckled, then lifted his arm. “The good thing about hands…they’re always on hand .”

He laughed and wriggled his fingers in the air. Rory didn’t laugh or smile. His stomach twisted in a knot. He knew how Sebastian Claw had murdered. He strangled with his right hand. Didn’t even need two, he had enough strength in one to snuff out Lester Yates.

Sebastian hung his arm at his side again. “He deserved it.”

“What did he do?”

Sebastian turned away and looked up at the small window. “Betrayed me. We were close, or at least I thought we were, but he ratted on me to the police. What would you have done?”

Rory bit his lip. “I would’ve asked him to explain the situation…tried to understand, found a way out—”

“That’s the thing. If he’d told me, it would’ve been different. We could’ve sorted it, I could’ve helped, but he didn’t. I gave him plenty of chances to tell me, but he never did. Even when I was strangling him, he looked at me with this confused expression, like he didn’t understand why. That made me even angrier, and I couldn’t stop.”

“Do…Do you—never mind.”

“No, ask me.”

Rory avoided Sebastian’s gaze when he asked, “Do you ever regret it?”

“No, and I’m not going to swear I’ll never do it again either, but keep that to yourself. I don’t want to be kept here any longer than I already have been.”

Rory had heard Sebastian’s and Lester’s last conversation, and Sebastian wasn’t lying. He’d given Lester plenty of chances to admit what he’d been doing, admit he was a rat, but he hadn’t. The recording software on Lester was sensitive enough to pick up his splutters and chokes as Sebastian killed him.

“Anyway, that’s all in the past now. I’ve almost served my time, less than nine months to go, and then it’s goodbye to this cell, those gates, them officers.” He smacked his closed fist into the wall. “I’ll be free.”

“What will you do when you get out?”

“I’ll drink, I’ll fuck, I’ll work out, all things I do in here, but they’ll be sweeter on the outside, and then… then…”

“Then what?”

Sebastian tipped his head back, wrapped his arms around his stomach, and smirked. He didn’t share whatever he found so amusing. Rory pulled his sheet closer, clutching the fabric.

Sebastian’s delight tapered off, and he stayed staring at the ceiling. His arms fell away, and he rocked back a step, then fixed Rory with a cold stare.

Rory shivered, despite the cell being too hot, and clutched the blanket up to his chin.

That look, whatever it was, meant trouble.

“I’ll celebrate my release with a big. Fucking. Bang.”

“Out of everything so far, this has been the best.”

Rory shot a sceptical look at Ollie, then glanced down at his tray. Vegetables, gravy, rice, what he assumed was chicken, and two cookies. They’d been there six days, and the food had been bland for every one of them. “If you say so.”

Captain sat opposite, flexing his fingers. There were bruises on his knuckles, and the skin had split.

“How did that happen?” Rory asked.

“When I was having a dream, I turned over and punched the wall.”

“The wall owned you.” Ollie snorted, admiring Captain’s bloodied knuckles.

Despite the tiredness in his eyes and his slumped stance, Captain managed to laugh.

“Benjamin Tracy?”

Captain looked up at the officer hurrying over to them. “That’s me.”

“Come with me.”

Captain sighed and got to his feet. His hand hung at his side, and several pairs of eyes snapped to it, analysing the damage. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Captain no longer blocked the sight of Pauly and his table of friends. He perked up, waited until Captain had passed through the gate, then got to his feet.

“Sweetheart, now your bodyguard’s gone, we can finally have a chat.”

Pauly strode over, then sat down on Captain’s seat and reached across the table. Rory quickly pulled his hand away and went to stand, but two hands pressed down on his shoulders, keeping him in place. Rory tensed and glanced at the inmate hovering over him, holding him down. When the inmate smiled, he displayed his missing teeth and shiny red gums. His eyes gleamed.

Pauly gestured to Ollie. “You. Blondie. Take a walk.”

“But—”

“No buts, get up and leave.”

“It’s all right,” Rory whispered. “Go.”

Ollie stood up, grabbed his tray, and moved to the opposite end of the wing. He darted concerned glances back, and Pauly stuck out his bottom lip, pretending to blubber.

“Poor little baby,” he whined. “Have I stolen his favourite toy?”

“What do you want?” Rory asked.

“I told you the other day…you.”

“I’m not…gay.”

It was a lie. He’d realized he was gay when he was twelve and he obsessed over boybands. Not the songs or the dance routines, but their bodies when they whipped off their shirts and stroked their skin. It had been confusing and erotic all in one.

“That’s okay, sweetheart, neither am I, but in here, a hole is a hole, and you’ve got two I’d love to get acquainted with. And fucking Sebastian Claw’s cellmate, when I know you’re exactly his type, is the cherry on top.”

“His…type?”

“Sure are.” Pauly grinned. He had all his teeth, but they were yellow. He swiped his tongue over them as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “I’m picturing it now…”

“Picturing what?”

“You…going back to your cell with my cum on your breath, my bites on your neck, your lips all swollen, and I don’t mean the ones on your face.” He gave Rory’s crotch a pointed look. “I’m talking about your tight pussy.”

“Yeah, I got that. Look, I’m flattered, but I’m going to pass.”

Fingers dug into Rory’s shoulders, and he gasped and slapped his hand down on them, trying his best to tug them away. They kept pressing until he was certain he’d have bruises.

“Stop,” Rory panted. His bones ached, and he grunted through his teeth.

Pauly hummed. “That sound is music to my ears.”

Ollie returned to the table with Teddy in tow. Teddy grunted and slammed his full tray down in front of Pauly. Gravy splattered Pauly’s chest, and he gawped at Teddy before his face pulled into a snarl.

“Son of a bitch…” Pauly barked, shooting to his feet.

Teddy brought his hands up, fists closed, ready for another fight despite his hands being swollen from the beating he dished out days before.

Pauly huffed as he pulled at his worn T-shirt. “I’ll have to change now.” He narrowed his eyes at Rory. “I need to make myself look all sexy for our date.”

Rory shook his head. “There’s no date.”

“I think you should consider my offer. Eight years is a long time. You’ll learn to love being on your knees for me, and in return, no one will lay a finger on you. You’ll be mine. Mine to finger, mine to fuck.”

“I’ve considered your offer, and my answer is still no.”

Pauly winked. “Later, sweetheart.”

He left, and the inmate pinning Rory to his seat let go. Ollie sat down opposite and offered Rory a weak smile.

“All right?”

Rory winced as he rolled one shoulder, then the other. “Never been better.”

Teddy sat down at the next table and began shovelling his remaining food into his mouth. He paused when he realized Rory was looking at him and turned his head.

“Thank you,” Rory said.

Teddy glanced at Rory, then gave Ollie a longer, softer look.

“Yeah, I get it.” Rory snorted. “You did that for him, not for me.”

“That guy’s not going to leave you alone,” Ollie mumbled, eyeing Pauly as he went into his cell.

Rory tried to force down the lump in his throat. “He’s bluffing.”

Teddy made a short, sharp sound. Both Rory and Ollie looked over at his table, once Teddy knew he had their attention, he shook his head in a firm contradiction to Rory’s statement.

“I’ll…I’ll stay out of his way,” Rory murmured.

Ollie wrinkled his nose. “For the next eight years?”

“For all we know, he gets out in months.”

“He’s three years into a life sentence,” Ollie murmured.

Teddy tapped his finger on the table to get Rory’s attention, then flicked his gaze in the direction of Sebastian. Rory looked, then quickly looked away.

“He hates me.”

Teddy shrugged.

“He might be the lesser of two evils,” Ollie mumbled. “Get him onside.”

“I don’t know how. He scares the shit out of me.”

Teddy snorted, then he smiled at Ollie. Ollie grinned back and lowered his gaze.

“Win him over,” Ollie suggested.

“How?”

“Spend time with him outside your cell. Go over there right now.”

Teddy slapped his palm on the table and sternly shook his head. His eyes were unblinking as he glared their way.

“Or not,” Ollie muttered. “All I’m saying is, Sebastian clearly has some kind of power on this wing.”

Teddy nodded as he pointed his fork at Ollie.

“Get him onside, and you’ll have his protection. Pauly won’t touch you.”

Teddy dropped his fork so he could clap at Ollie’s idea. Ollie beamed, pleased with himself.

“Yeah, but how do I do that?” Rory asked.

He’d been trying for the past six days to find common ground, but he was getting nothing back from Sebastian, unless death glares and savage snarls counted as progress.

Ollie sighed. “No idea.”

“Well, I’m all ears when you think of something.”

The bell sounded for yard time, and the inmates queued at the gate. Rory sighed and took his unfinished lunch to the front to scrape into the bin, but Teddy cut in front of him and emptied his tray first. Others pushed in front of Rory too, and he sighed as he finally got to the front.

Ollie and Teddy stood next to each other near the front of the line going outside, but Rory didn’t dare try to join them. He took a space at the back, which soon became the middle.

They walked in single file down the corridor, then they suddenly stopped, and Rory narrowly avoided bumping into the man in front.

“Oi, newbie,” one of the inmates ahead shouted. “Rory, is it?”

Rory didn’t get a chance to answer—

“You left your mug on the table. This isn’t the damn Ritz. We don’t have table service, clean up after yourself.”

Rory frowned. He was sure he’d put it on the designated trolley, but he didn’t want to argue. The officer at the front of the queue opened the gate, but Rory turned around, struggling to pass through the queue to get back to his table. The inmates jostled him, knocking into his shoulders, laughing as he lost his footing.

He managed not to fall, but he did trip.

Then he felt it.

The sudden slice and the sticky warmth that followed.

He widened his eyes as his shoulders continued to take a beating from the inmates going by, but those knocks didn’t hurt like his side did. It stung. He gasped at the biting pain, pressing his hand to the wound. Blood soaked into his white T-shirt and leaked through his fingers.

His shoulder was knocked, and this time he was unable to stay on his feet. He dropped to his knees and pitched forward, sucking air through his teeth at the fierce stinging in his side. The droning stomp of feet faded until Rory thought he was alone in the corridor.

A pair of battered trainers stopped in front of his knees, and he managed to lean back and look at Pauly grinning down on him.

“That’s what I like to see.” Pauly smirked. “You, realising your place is on your knees for me.”

Rory’s nose twitched with the smell of blood, his blood. It kept coming, and the pain didn’t subside; it grew more intense, until he had to shuffle away to lean his back to the wall.

Pauly gasped, crouching down. “Have you hurt yourself, sweetheart?”

“Go to hell,” Rory hissed.

“You’ve got to apply pressure,” Pauly said, then he squeezed his hand over Rory’s bloody fingers, pressing hard enough Rory cried out and his vision swam. “Hard. Pressure.”

“Rory!”

Captain’s voice was enough to scare Pauly away. He let go and left the corridor in the direction of the yard without a backwards glance.

“Shit, Rory,” Captain growled, dropping to his knees. “What the fuck happened?”

Rory shook his head. He didn’t know. One of the inmates had cut him, but he didn’t know who. They’d all been passing by him. He’d not been paying attention to their faces and hadn’t seen a weapon.

“Come on,” Captain said, hauling Rory’s free arm over his shoulders. “Let’s get you fixed up.”