Billy walked back inside the cell and pulled off his shirt, throwing it to the guard inside, who then patted it down to examine before he handed it to another guard. Scott turned away, attempting to give the man some privacy. The guards didn’t seem to have the same decency, but then it was their job to make sure everything was safe.
“Why do you shut the water off when you do this?” he asked the guardclosest to him.
“So you can’t flush something down the toilet.”
“Like I’d even go within twenty feet of that toilet after he’s been using it all day.”
The guard’s eyebrow rose, his lip curving up. “The cell’s onlyseven-by-ten.”
He kept himself from rolling his eyes. It wasonly a saying.
“All set, Billy. Out in the hall. Yourturn, Holland.”
Scott walked into the cell, holding his breath from the stench.“What do I do?”
“Stand right there and remove your clothing, one piece at a time. Don’t take off the next one untilI tell you to.”
Reaching for the collar, he pulled the shirt off. When he handed it to the guard, the man turned it inside out then gave it to another guard, who dropped it on the floornear his feet.
“Boots next.”
When he started to sit, the guard poked him, shaking his head. Great, he couldn’t even sit to remove his boots. He bent, untied them, then passed them over. They’d already checked these when he came in a couple days ago.
“Pants.”
The pants dropped and he kicked them in the direction of the guard, who snarled, picking them up to examine them. This wasn’t too embarrassing, standing here in his boxer briefs in an open cell with five guards standing around.
“Socks.”
The floor was chilly against his bare feet. God knew how many germs were jumping on for aride right now.
“Shorts.”
Swallowing, he pulled them down, tossing them over. Shit, this sucked big time.
“Hands on your head. Open your mouth.”
Open his mouth, what the fuck? But he complied and the guard stuck his fingers inside and swept around.
Whistling came from the cells across the hall and his cheeks heated. Great, he had an audience. It might be a good thing he couldn’t leave the cell. He had a feeling from the expressions of some of the other inmates, he’d be popularin the shower.
Over the calls of “pretty boy,” and “you’re mine,” Scott said, “The least you could have done was put on a new pair of gloves. Those things were all over Billy’s clothes.”
The guard growled. “Yeah, life in here sucks. Turn around and bend over with your hands on the bunk.”
God, could this get any worse? Hands cupped his junk then swiftly moved away. His clothes were tossed back at him with a gruff,“Get dressed.”
All eyes were still focused on him while he slipped into the lovely orange ensemble then was hustled back into the hall. Two more guards went in and did another, more thorough search.
“Found something,” one of them called out. The guards in the hall surrounded him and Billy, while the first guard took what looked like a piece of bent metaland held it up.
“Either one of you going to take responsibility for this?”
Shit and fuck. Did he have no luck at all? It had to be Billy’s, but the man was three fries short of a Happy Meal. Who knew what he’d do.
“No, no, no,” Billy wailed, starting to rock back and forth. “Don’t want to go in the hole. No hole for me. No.”
“You know the rules, Billy. Is it yours?”
