Then, there it was. HMP Stoneheath, in all its Victorian limestone glory.
The outside was a dirty grey, discoloured through centuries of use. They pulled into a wide courtyard, surrounded on three sides by high walls. There were short, barred windows with barbed wire surrounds and netting underneath.
Johnny’s eyes trailed up a tall wooden column in its centre. It had a hook bolted onto the top, and a frayed rope strung to the platform beneath. The old hanging post, he realised, used when the death penalty was still in force.
He shuddered.
Judging by the barred windows, some of the prisoners’ rooms overlooked the yard. A sick and mocking reminder of what could have been in store for them in the not-so-distant past.
The metal gates slammed shut behind them, making the rope shiver.
“Pull over there!” a prison warden called, directing them towards the corner of the yard.
“This is horrible,” Isla whispered, her bottom lip shaking. “When I came here last time I went through the medical entrance. But this is… Ru is… Holy shit.”
“And the others,” Amil said. “They’re all here.”
Jeers rang out across the courtyard as they stepped out of the van, faces popping up in the tiny, barred windows all around them. Omegas of all different shapes and sizes, some pressing their fingers into their mouths to whistle, others making rude or threatening gestures.
Even though he and Taylor were mated, it did very little to dampen the scent of omega pheromones hanging in the air. It was pervasive, sweet and cloying, like rotting fruit, and it actually made his balls shrivel.
He glanced across at Taylor, who was at his side in an instant.
“Well this is fucking oppressive,” Taylor whispered, dropping his head next to Johnny’s ear.
Johnny hummed, squeezing his hand. “What do you expect? They’ve all been put here by the criminal justice system. They hate us.”
“Hey, piggy!” someone called in a sing-song voice. “Coming in so we can watch you squeal?”
“Ignore them,” said the prison guard as she squinted up at the windows. “They always get like this when someone pulls up. Even the bloody postman.”
They were directed through a thick metal door, the deadbolts thunking as it swung open.
“Put your equipment into the lockers,” the warden said. “No offensive weapons or handcuffs inside unless you’re designatedstaff. Oh, and no alphas past the admin corridor.” The warden’s eyes flicked to Johnny’s neck. “Even mated ones.”
“You okay with that, Sarge?” Taylor said, giving her a pointed look as they dumped their gear.
“She’s got me,” Amil said, coming up behind them. “Besides, she could kick your arses any day of the week.”
Johnny chuckled, relieved that Amil’s protective streak was in full force that morning.
“This way,” the warden said, tapping a key card to a barred door.
They followed her down a series of winding corridors, the brown linoleum floors and dark wood doing nothing to make the place look less unwelcoming. The place stank of damp concrete and unwashed bodies, even though they were still several more locked gates away from the main bulk of the prison.
The warden’s radio crackled at her hip, and they all moved out the way as others came running past. Someone on the other end of the radio was shouting a series of commands, their voice cracking.
“Assistance—tuna can—improvised weapon—” were the only words Johnny caught, as the warden smiled awkwardly and turned down her radio.
“Happens all the time,” she said, sighing heavily. “Tins, pencils, toothbrushes, you name it. They’ll make a weapon out of it. Ah, here we are.”
She stopped abruptly at another barred door, and Johnny glanced up at a metal sign that read Admin Corridor. There was a long walkway visible through the bars, and it was flanked by multiple offices labelled Court Hearings, Probation and Police Matters.
“Wait here, please,” the warden said, directing them all towards a U-shaped seating area. It was complete with fake liliesin a glass jug and a dog-eared copy ofDetention Todayon one of the end tables.
“Couldn’t even stoop to a copy ofCosmo,” Taylor said, waggling his eyebrows in Johnny’s direction.
Isla fidgeted in the seat opposite him. “Alright?” Johnny asked.
