And I’d do it over and over again if it keeps you outta harm’s way.
Every sword drawn, I’ll lay on for you.
You can hate me. Loathe me. Wish me dead if you want. But I’m still going to wait for you.
One day you will see me differently. You’ll realize the hate you have for me is just love in disguise.
Riggens, my cellmate, enters our cell, then just stands in the doorway, staring at me strangely. He starts pacing around the room, mumbling shit under his breath before he finally looks up, eyes narrowing at me as he works way too hard to see the page I’m scrawling my letter on, and what I’m writing to Poppy.
“You writing your girlfriend again?” he questions.
“Mind your business.”
He chuckles. “You’re touchy today.”
I try to concentrate on how to finish the letter, but Riggens distracts me. He stands so his shadow blocks out the light, making it hard to see the page.
Something tells me that Riggens isn’t here for chitchat.
“What now, Riggens? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
He moves too fast, his rough hand clamping down onto my shoulder hard enough to draw out a sting. Before I can react, he yanks me to my feet, the notebook slipping from my grasp before collapsing uselessly to the floor, along with the pen that rolls under my cot out of reach.
Fuck, my only weapon is gone.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snap.
His expression changes. His eyes dart to the cell door a few times before it turns serious.
“You’re needed on the yard,” he mutters, his tone slightly avoidant.
“It’s not yard time.”
“Guards say otherwise.”
I know something’s off. I can see it in the way his eyes shift nervously.
I jerk my arm free, but he’s already crowding me toward the cell door, his movements tense and urgent. There’s no usual sarcasm, or playfulness this time. Just persistence to get me where he needs me.
He pushes me towards the door leading out of the housing unit, the only door that goes outside.
When it buzzes open, my heart drops to my feet.This doesn’t feel right.The door shouldn’t open this late at night.
Riggins shoves me through the threshold before I can question it, his hand hitting my back with unexpected force. I stumble onto the yard, my irritation flaring.
“Riggins, what the…”
The words die in my throat.
I’m not alone. Three men are standing in the shadows, waiting for me. A fourth appears out of nowhere.
The first impact slams into my face like a sledgehammer. Pain detonates across my jaw, my vision flashing white as my head whips sideways. I barely stay upright before another blow crashes into my ribs, driving the air from my lungs in a violent rush.
I swing at my next attacker out of pure instinct. My fist connects with something solid, earning a grunt, but it doesn’t matter. Hands grab me from behind, locking around my arms as a barrage of punches hammer into my torso with brutal precision.
“Thought you’d be smarter than this, Wesley,” a familiar voice growls, just as JP enters my line of vision. I’ve only seen him in passing while in here. He’s in a whole other housing unit. But not now. Now he’s standing in front of me with vengeance in his eyes, the murderous undertones sealing my fate.
I violently thrash against his minion’s hold, managing to wrench one arm loose long enough to drive an elbow backward into someone’s stomach. Whoever it is curses before their grip loosens, allowing me to twist and throw a wild punch that cracks against someone else’s cheekbone.
