Dulce

27

There is nothing cheery about a prison, which I guess is the point. But if they threw in a splash of color here and there, perhaps they wouldn’t have so much in-house fighting.

Looking at the dreary gray walls, I’m guessing a splash of blood is likely the only color people see around here.

We get ushered into a private room, usually reserved for inmates to see their lawyers.

As soon as Griff let me know we were coming, I fired off a couple of texts to Sugar, knowing she’d grease some palms. It’s not the first time. Lucky for us, the warden here has a hard-on for Sugar that makes him easy to manipulate.

“I thought we’d be surrounded by other inmates. I guess it’s different in the movies,” Griff whispers from the chair beside me.

Movies don’t get it too wrong. Most prisons would have the prisoners congregating in one area for visitation. It makes it easier to guard them, but there are always exceptions to that rule.

The clank of the locks opening has us both looking up as Griff’s father, Edward, is shuffled inside wearing bright orange with pretty little ankle and wrist jewelry.

The guard walks him to the table and cuffs him to the circular metal ring in the center before he steps back and leaves. He stands on the other side of the safety glass window, watching us for any signs that we need him to intervene.

“Not sure how you got him to wait outside since it’s against policy,” Edward speaks first, his voice sounding rough as if he has picked up a twenty-a-day habit since he’s been inside. Or perhaps that’s just what it sounds like when a big old dick gets shoved down your throat daily.

“Lawyer privileges,” I tell him, making Griff look at me. I shrug. “I made a call. I’m Mr. Young’s counsel for the next thirty minutes.”

His lips twitch. “Of course you are.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”

I look back at Edward, ready to snarl at the old fart. He’s the one that asked for Griff to come after all. But when I look at him, I realize he’s talking to me.

“Ah, I just came to see how the mighty have fallen.”

“You’re in charge now, boy. You don’t need no whores distracting you.” He addresses Griff, who up until that point had been looking anywhere other than at the old man who seems to have aged ten years in one.

“Should I perhaps try using little boys to amuse myself with instead?”

Edward looks at me sharply.

“Son, I—”

“I am not your son. I am nothing to you.”

“I’m your father,” he growls.

Griff leans forward, his glare dark and lethal. “You stopped being my father the first time you left me bleeding from places no eight-year-old boy should bleed from.”

I grip the edge of my chair so tight my fingers hurt.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Edward hisses, his eyes darting around the room as he looks for cameras. I know he sees them. When his smile turns smug, I know he’s noticed the red light isn’t blinking, an indicator that the cameras are offline.

“You think you are so much better than me, but here you are anyway. You couldn’t stay away.” He laughs like he’s told a hilarious joke.

“Sorry, but it’s amusing to me that I’ve come inside both of you. I’ve had you both on your knees and—”

I reach for his head and smash it into the table before he even realizes I’ve moved.

He pulls back dazed, blood running from his busted nose.

Now it’s Griff’s turn to laugh. “You can say what you want, old man, but it changes nothing. You’ll die in here, and once I leave today, I won’t waste a single thought on you. You don’t deserve to take up any space in my brain.”

“Listen to me, you—”

I smash his face into the table once more, loving the sound of his nose breaking.

He yanks himself up and starts yelling. “Guard! Guard!”

I look at the guard, who has cracked the door open. He looks at me, ignoring Edward completely.

“You get all that?”

“I’ll make sure the rest of the inmates know he likes forcing little boys. For all their crimes, nobody here likes a pedophile.”

He closes the door again before leaning his back against the glass, letting Edward know exactly where his loyalties lie.

“Who the fuck are you?” Edward shouts at me.

“I’m your worst nightmare.” I burst out laughing. “Sorry, I always wanted to say that.”

Griff shakes his head at me, but he smiles even though he’s still tense from being in the same room as his dad.

I need to get him out of here.

“Okay, Edward. Can I call you Dick?”

“What? No. Dick isn’t short for Edward.”

“Oh, I know. So, Dick. You have information I want. If you give it to me, then Greg over there will keep his mouth shut and you’ll go back to getting your throat fucked on the daily, but you won’t be dead.”

He looks at me warily before looking toward the guard, who is still ignoring us.

“What do you want to know?”

“I’m not looking into you specifically so you can keep your toupee on. I want information on the guys who didn’t end up behind bars with you. If you think about it, it’s only fair. Why should they still get to keep their freedom and have all the fun while you’re stuck in here getting your asshole reamed out?”

His face has gone an alarming shade of white. He better not have a fucking heart attack before I get some answers from him.