Page 81 of Sweet Prison
Sweat stains spread across his armpits. He looks so old and pathetic, trying to justify how he saved his ass at the expense of mine. Fucking chickenshit. Where’s that sense of honor? Of accepting responsibility for your own actions? If you do dumb crap, then have the nerve to stand behind your decisions, at least. Not this cocksucker.
If he had told me that I deserved the punishment, I would have let him go. But this?
This idiot won’t get any mercy from me.
“Can you guess who it was? Who could have sent you that note?”
“No. I don’t have a clue.”
He’s telling the truth.
I know.He would have spilled the name the moment he saw me, all to save his worthless ass.
Another fucking dead end.
No shit.
“Well, since there’s nothing else you can tell me, I guess I’ll take my leave.” I straighten and button up my jacket. Collins watches me with a mix of surprise and relief etched across his features.
“I’m… I’m glad you’ve weathered it rather well. And you seem to be in good shape. Looking good. I… I like the newhairstyle.” A nervous grin screws up his bearded face. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you… I still have connections and—”
“There is one thing.”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
I lock eyes with the sanctimonious cunt who played a huge role in destroying my life. “Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be.”
For just a moment, I allow myself to enjoy his confused expression. And then, I slam my fist into his nose, sending the bastard flying backward.
He hits the water like a sinking rock, setting off a splash of gigantic proportions. The geese take flight, filling the air with a cacophony of loud cackles. Between his thrashing and the en masse departure of the local waterfowl, the once calm pond turns turbulent and murky. I step up to the edge of the dock, lowering myself to one knee just as Collins’s head breaks the surface. He flails madly, eyes wide and red, as he tries to catch his breath. And all the while, driven by an instinct for self-preservation, the birds circle in the sky over our heads.
“You know the first lesson I learned in the pen?” I smile and lean forward. “To shave my fucking head.”
My hand shoots out, grabbing a fistful of his wet hair at the crown. To the tune of resonant honking above, I push Collins under the hazy waters. He struggles, desperately trying to escape from my grip. The birds’ loud calls make it impossible for the judge’s cries to reach me, but I hear his soundless wail in my head. It reminds me of my own silent screams each time I was dumped in solitary confinement. Cries of fury and terror, while I slowly lost my goddamned mind. And wondered if I’d ever get it all back.
I hold his head under the water until his limp fingers slip from my wrist. Once I let go, his body begins to sink, his face—frozen in horror—barely visible through the sediment he stirred up. And as if straining to see across the murkiness, his glassy eyes are turned toward the sky. Toward the flock of birds still circling, forever out of reach.
Rising up, I shake the water off my hand and head back across the dock. My rental car is parked some distance away, behind some shrubbery along the side of the road. With traffic, it’ll take me around four hours to get back home. Which means, just over eight hours—eight hours away from my angel. And I’ve already started feeling the effects of being separated from her.
Anger. Dread. Shortness of breath.
She truly is the air I need to keep living.
Reaching into my pocket, I take out my phone.
Put that away. You called her an hour ago.
So what? I want to make sure she’s okay.
Awww… You are turning into a real softy.
And you’re becoming a nuisance. Why don’t you fuck off.
Ungrateful bastard! If it wasn’t for me, you’d have had nothing to come back to.
Except my sanity. Now, will you please shut the fuck up so I can make this phone call? I can’t have a conversation with you lurking and yapping in the background.
Nah, I think I’ll stick around. Seeing you riled up is always a pleasure.