Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Inwardly I groan. Dad must have told him to call me. He won’t force me to marry Carlos, but he’ll try and nudge the idea along.
“Oh, hi Carlos. It’s been a while.”
“Too long. I’ve missed the sound of your voice.” He sounds eager and like he’s going to say something else, so I interrupt.
“Yes, Margaret, I’ll be right there!” I shout, and she turns around and gives me a funny look. “Hey Carlos, I’m sorry, I need to go. Margaret is calling me for dinner.”
“All right, I’ll try you again later. I want to catch up.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you then.”
“Until then, bebita,” he responds before I quickly hang up.
“So now you’re hungry?” Margaret teases me, and I bite my bottom lip.
Oh, I’m hungry, but it’s not for food. And it’s not for Carlos either.
Chapter Four
Kai
Prison is exactly as awful anyone outside imagines it to be. Solitary confinement? That’s hell on earth. After three days in the hole, the guard comes over and opens the metal door, sending a fraction of light into the dark space. It must be from the moon because it’s late.
“Tupuola, you’re out,” he orders as he knocks his wooden nightstick against the bars.
I get up off the floor and duck my head. The cell isn’t big enough for me to stand straight, and my muscles protest at being cramped for so long. Thankfully my stitches are still clean, and I’ve healed enough that I’m not worried about them tearing open.
Keeping my mouth shut, I move to the designated spot outside the cell and straighten my spine. It feels good, but I don’t let the emotion show. I don’t let anything show, ever.
The guard leads me and three other men that were in solitary down the long hall that leads to the showers. Inside the bathroom, the stalls are open, with no privacy. Next to the showers are clean jumpsuits and soap, along with a single towel that’s about the size of a stamp. The guards are at their posts as we strip down and toss our solitary uniforms in the laundry bin. After two years here, I know the drill and grab the soap.
It feels good to be clean after a few days of sitting in my own filth. I can’t imagine how the guys who have to stay in there long-term don’t go crazy. Dragging the soap across my chest, I look down at the traditional tattoos that cover most of my body. At first the guards asked me about them, but after not answering for so long, they let it go. You don’t see many men here with tattoos over their ass and down their thighs, but I’m not going out of my way to find them either.
We don’t have long to shower, so I move quickly to scrub off the dirt and then rinse off. Once they call out for us to move, I grab my towel and dry off. Glancing around, I see some of the guys that were in the riot were in solitary with me. I don’t see Leo or the guy whose arm I broke. Most likely that guy will need surgery after what I did to it. Or one of Leo O’Neal’s guys took him out back and dealt with it already.
Once we’re back in jumpsuits, we’re led to the main block where our cells are located. Mine is on the second floor, and after the guards drop off the other prisoners, we go to mine. As I approach the cell I’m surprised to see it’s empty. My cellmate Reggie is a wiry little fuck who was arrested for cooking meth in the basement of an apartment building. The dumbass managed to blow it up, along with himself and a couple of residents. After he healed from the burns, he was moved in here with me, and I’ve contemplated killing him at least a dozen times a day.
“Where’s Reggie?” I turn around to see there’s only one guard now, and it’s the one I remember seeing standing over Leo after the alarms went off.
“A present from the king,” he says quietly and nods as my cell door opens.
My cell only has one cot now, and everything of Reggie’s is gone. I guess they don’t have plans to move anyone else in with me, and if this is a gift from the king, who am I to question it?
“Under the mattress,” the guard whispers before the cell door closes again and they call for lights out.
I wait a few moments to make sure I’m alone and reach under the mattress. There’s a folded piece of paper sticking out at the edge, and I grab it. When I open it, I see it’s from Leo.
A small token of my appreciation for what you did for my daughter and me. I’d like to speak to you after breakfast.