It’s too early for this shit.
I flop the blanket over to the side as I hear the cell door open, but then I accidentally fall back asleep. I was up way too late last night, working on my products to get ready for market day today.
Suddenly, my mattress is being ripped off the bed frame—with me still on it—and tossed to the floor. I go sliding, the back of my head slamming into the wall. I sit up and glare at the guards. I open my mouth to curse at Sandbag and ask what the fuck is going on, but I stop short when I see what they’re doing.
A brand new, triple-thick mattress is being put down where the old prison-issued mattress and I just were. I stare at it in shock as two guards put it down while another one tosses down a package of brand new sheets.
I watch, mouth gaping like a fish, as more guards file in, one after the other, dropping stuff off into my cell. Blankets. Pillows. A small, battery operated TV and DVD player. A battery-operated mini-fridge. Even a blue and green tie-dye beanbag chair.Pretty.
I scramble to my feet, standing on top of the stained, rail-thin mattress that’s slumped on the floor. “What is all this?”
“Luxuries,” Sandbag replies with a sneer. “Your fucking cock boyfriend set it up for you to have all of this shit.”
I stare at him for a moment, confused as to why Rook would get me all of this stuff and wondering how he convinced the guards to set it all up. Then the sleep sluffs off my brain, and it all clicks. Ah. Alpha Bowen’s bribes have arrived.
The guards file out of my cell, taking my old mattress with them, and Sandbag shakes his head at all my newly added goodies and then storms out, slamming the door behind him.
I look around in awe.
I walk over to the new mattress and whistle at how plush and thick it is. The sheets are bright blue to match my new beanbag chair, and they’re silky soft. And pillows! So many pillows.
When Beta Trex told me that Alpha Bowen was going to give meluxuries, I was ready to be an ornery martyr about it and not use a single thing. But damn. Scratch that idea. I’m going to enjoy every damn perk that just got delivered because the thread count on these sheets is through the roof.
Besides, despite what Alpha Bowen might think, sitting in a beanbag chair that he paid for does not equate to accepting a marriage proposal or agreeing to his claim of ownership over me. So there.
I quickly make up the bed, and then I test out all my new stuff. I collapse into my beanbag throne, letting the bright colors wrap around me. My mini-fridge is stocked full of soda, water, sandwiches, yogurt, and candy bars. My TV has a stack of brand new DVDs beside it, and my eyes run over the titles.
Pride and Prejudice. 10 Things I Hate About You. The Proposal. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Overboard. The Ugly Truth.
There’s a shit ton more, and every single one of them is an Enemies-to-Lovers romance.
I grit my teeth. Alpha Bowen thinks he’s so fucking funny and clever. I’d like to let my cockatrice peck his ass. If he thinks he’s gonna go from enemy to lover status, he’s sorely mistaken.
I’m still gonna watch all of those, though. Not because I’m falling for his shit, but because I have serious TV withdrawals, and I’ve always been a sucker for Mr. Darcy.
* * *
“Right there, Joe, that’s perfect,” I tell my troll BFF as he drops down another chunk of broken concrete.
It’s very handy to have a dude around with so many muscles. He shoves the block up against the others that he’s gathered so that I have a broken hodgepodge surface that somewhat functions as a table. I needed something to display what I’m selling today.
I walk around the surface laid out on the ground of the rec yard, eyeing the patchwork concrete. “Hmm,” I say, going to the left where I see one of the clumps has a sharp edge poking out. “Can you take care of that, big guy?” I ask, pointing at the piece of concrete that’s jutting out.
Joe clomps over, grabs the heavy slab, and takes a bite right out of it. Now that he’s chewed off the jagged part, he sets it back down, and I have a much smoother edge for my “table.”
I beam at him. “Perfect. You did such a good job!” I say, giving him my best encouraging voice as I pat him on the side.
With a table to work with, I’m ready now. Let’s hope everyone likes these more than the shanks.
I put my fingers in my mouth and let out an ear splitting whistle, calling attention to everyone in the rec yard. The forty or so inmates around look over, and I know it’s go-time.
“Hey!” I wave excitedly.
No one waves back.
“Tough crowd,” I mumble to Joe. He picks up another piece of concrete and starts eating it.
The inmates go back to doing whatever they were doing, and the guards continue to stand around the perimeter, talking shit and doing their best to look intimidating.
