Prison Bitch Ch. 07

Prison Bitch

7.

So, Dylan had said something about the guy's name being Butch. Riley couldn't say that he knew every guard in that place by name, but it wasn't like he could ask, or he'd set some alarms blaring. That was the last thing he wanted; however, the asshole that had dared to put his hands on his woman had to be taught a lesson. Hmm, it looked like he had to remind himself where he had come from and some of the things he had done to get as far as he was today. It couldn't be hard; teaching bad men a lesson or two was like riding a bicycle -- once learned, never forgotten.

He teased a rebel strand of Dylan's hair and pushed it behind his ear. Then, he snuck one hand to grab the guy by his round ass, all the while his eyes roaming the place like he was bored. Dylan made a small sound in his throat, most probably not knowing what to make out of that open display of physical attention in a space as open as that.

Two guards snickered and looked at them, but it seemed like they couldn't be bothered to move their fat asses and break them up. Except for the sometimes planned, sometimes random acts of violence erupting now and then, prison life tended to be dull and subject to routine. Especially guards couldn't be made to do more than their usual load of work.

Dylan tried to push against Riley's chest for a moment, and then he thought better of it. His heart was beating fast, and Riley could feel it as he held his prison bitch close to his chest. Any moment now, someone was bound to intervene, and then he'll know.

"You two, break it out," a nasty voice called out to them.

Dylan's startled reaction was one sign, but Riley needed more than that. "Yes, sir," he drawled and pushed Dylan slightly away.

The gorilla that came marching straight to them used his baton, resting it against Riley's chest. "O'Connor, I don't care what kind of big shot you think you are outside, but now, you're inside, and you need to fucking behave."

Riley put both hands up and offered a plastic smile. "Duly noted, sir. Just got carried away for a bit, is all."

The gorilla tapped the baton on Riley's chest, hard enough to make his point. "Well, make sure you don't get carried away again, or we're going to put you in the hole, with nothing but your hand as company. And who knows what might happen to your bitch while you're away?" The guy turned his head to look at Dylan.

The blond's face told him everything he needed to know.

"I could take care of her for you, you know." The guard's voice dropped, and Dylan pulled away when the man tried to touch his face. "For the right price."

"It's alright. We'll stick to the rules from now on," Riley said in a cheerful tone while eyeing the man's name on the tag carefully.

The guard finally moved away. Dylan threw him a murderous look.

"What?" Riley asked and made an innocent face.

Dylan pouted. "Don't 'what' me, asshole. That was--"

"Don't say it, sweetie. For the outside world, you're a dumb bitch, remember?"

Dylan stared him in the eye and then nodded. "Yeah," he said softly and looked away.

***

Cashel dragged his feet and fiddled with his suitcase, stopping to push his glasses up on his nose a few times, the picture of clumsiness incarnate. Riley observed his old-time friend without saying a word while Cashel pulled some papers out and spread them on the table. Within earshot, it was easy to observe a few guards.

"Give it to me straight, man," Riley said, making a face like he was worried. "How long am I going to spend in this hellhole? Lola keeps pestering me that she's not going to wait forever."

"Miss Jones needs to be patient, just as you," Cashel offered and examined his papers with so much pedantic attention that it almost fooled Riley, too. "I told you from the start that was all I could do for you."

"Bah." Riley leaned back in his chair. "I have no idea why I'm paying you so much. It's like the only thing you're good at is taking my money."

"Mr. O'Connor," Cashel said with a suffering sigh, "I believe it's time to accept the situation. And, as far as your business is concerned, your manager is in charge of everything, right?"

Through the glasses, Cashel's eyes seemed comically large, but that shrewd look told Riley that he hadn't been wrong about Lola. Hmm, so she and the manager. Go fucking figure.

"Yeah. Listen," Riley moved closer and leaned over the table, "about Angel's Wish. I need you to put together all the paperwork needed so that I can sell it."

"Sell it? Are there any problems I should be aware of, on the business side of things?"

"Eh, I need the funds."

"What for, if I may ask?" Cashel pursed his lips like a schoolmarm displeased from the moment of birth.

"Lola wants a ring. It's time for me to grow up. Angel's Wish was the first club I've ever opened. I just want to move on. And give Lola the wedding she's dreaming of."

Riley could tell, without looking, that the guards were listening in to every word exchanged.

"That sounds commendable. Of course, as your lawyer, I'd like to warn you against making a sale right now, but who am I to stand in the way of you finally turning into a family man? Alright, I'll talk to your manager if you haven't already."

"Please, do it for me," Riley said in a sugary voice. Someone was about to understand what it meant to overplay his hand. That fat motherfucker had always skimmed the milk, but to think that he was also porking Lola on the side, that was damn brazen. One thing Riley couldn't stand was a man who didn't know his fucking place.

"Well, I understand that this is actually why you wanted to talk to me, not your stay here. You could have done it over the phone, though."

"What can I say, man? I'm a romantic at heart. And, you know, you're invited to the wedding."

Cashel shook his head, took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he was overwhelmed by sudden feelings, and then put them back. "That's very nice of you, Mr. O'Connor."

"Now, about my relatives. I want to make the big announcement, but I want to take them by surprise, too. I mean, I want to put things in motion while I'm still here, but it's still a while until I'm out."

"Very good, very good, it goes without saying," Cashel hurried to say and began to gather his papers. "I'll see to it in complete secrecy. Are you going to tell Miss Jones about your plans?"

"The next time I see her."

"The next conjugal, right?"

Riley winced. "I haven't been the nicest boy, so I don't dare to ask for more of those. But she's going to come visit soon. I'll tell her."

"She'll be very happy, without a doubt."

"Over the moon. It's nice to know I can make her happy for a change."

Oh, yes, that was exactly his plan. Bitches should have known better than try to fool him out of his money. Dylan was a much more honest bitch than those who he had been supposed to trust. All in due time. He wasn't called Cobra for no reason.

***

Dylan tried to keep a low profile as much as he could. After that incident when Butch had intervened to push him and Riley apart, he had been looking over his shoulder more often than not. Just the day before, he had offered Martinez the info Riley had told him to say, something minor but true, and the guard had seemed pleased. At least, he didn't have to deal with the warden. Dylan was scared of the man; Riley had told him how the warden had threatened him, and he couldn't stop thinking that there was something Riley was leaving out for his sake.

It took him a couple of moments and the special sense he had come to develop since he had been locked in there to realize that someone was standing in his way. When he raised his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. Because of his position as Riley's personal toy, most inmates left him alone, which meant that he could walk almost everywhere without fear that he would get jumped. Well, that was the theory, because Dylan knew better. While he had much preferred to stay glued to Riley's side all the time, he understood why they needed to show that Dylan wasn't Cobra's underbelly.

James, his former owner and still the head of The Niners, measured him with cold eyes and smiled. "Your lover boy is getting married, people say."

"That's his business," Dylan said and tried to move past the guy. Married? What was this fucker talking about?

"That means that your loose cunt convinced him for good that he shouldn't have even considered giving up on real pussy for the likes of you."

It had to be some sort of lie, but Dylan still felt the insult going through. "Think whatever. Now, just let me pass."

"Or else?" James leaned forward and breathed down his cheek. "You're as good as kicked at the curb. Soon, you'll return to my loving arms. I missed using you as my punching bag. I swear, my workout suffered because you switched sides, you fucking disloyal bitch."

Dylan didn't move his head away but didn't look at James, either. "I had no choice. Still, I'd rather die than go back to you."

Maybe he had said a bit too much. James laughed and then licked Dylan's cheek. "Bitches don't die when they want, got it, darling?"

This guy was crossing the line, and Dylan was acutely aware that no one might rush to his rescue this time around. Whatever Riley's plans were, they were dangerous, but what could he expect? They were in fucking prison, and Riley, unlike him, knew both the game, and the players. The only thing he could do was to follow the orders and hope for the best. Right now, though, he would have very much liked to have his protector by his side and kick James' teeth in like the fucker he was.

"What? How come you're not smarting out to me like you used to? Too bad you have such a pretty face, or I would have messed you up more. Eh, I'm not that weak anymore. As soon as you're back to me, I'm going to make sure that you'll have a face only a mother can love."

Dylan closed his hands into fists to stop them from trembling. He couldn't fight back. It would be bad. He could shout for the guards, but who was to say that they wouldn't turn a blind eye? His usefulness extended just as much as Martinez considered that the info he got from him was legit. He and Riley both played a dangerous game, and Dylan didn't know if he had it in him to play it right.

"Miller, Hill, move it," one guard warned them.

That seemed to make James give up on the verbal torture he had planned for Dylan. "See you around, darling," he said and waved.

Dylan began walking. He hoped no one noticed that he was walking too fast. The moment he was inside the cell he was sharing with Riley, he hopped on his bed, pulled the blanket around himself and hid his head under the pillow, while his breath came in short.

***

"Are you getting married?" Dylan was up on his bed again, looking like a scared cat.

Riley grimaced. "Damn. A man can't keep a secret around here."

"Are you?" Dylan insisted.

"When Lola comes visiting next time, I'm going to propose. I'm not going to do that stupid shit with going down on one knee, but I will."

He expected Dylan to throw a hissy fit. Of course, the pretty blond had half a brain, which meant that he was supposed to understand that all that thing with the marriage was a bluff. Still, Riley liked it when Dylan threw hissy fits for his sake. It showed that he was jealous and wanted him.

That was a nice feeling. Everyone wanted something from him. Eh, Dylan wanted something, too, but he knew how to play it that it looked like he truly wanted Riley and nothing or no one else.

"How come you're not yelling at me?" Riley asked and moved towards the bunk beds. He stopped and looked at Dylan from up close. How could a guy look like that? Not that he was extremely effeminate, but it had something that appealed to guys. Maybe it was that mouth, and Riley knew very well how it looked taking his cock deep. Oh, fuck, he was getting hard again, and there were still many minutes until lights out.

"Why should I yell at you? It's not like you were going to marry me."

Riley laughed. "Funny. So, no questions about it?" The laughter died on his lips when he saw how lost Dylan looked, how his eyes darted sideways in hope of hanging on to something and finding nothing.

He caught a smooth cheek in his palm and made Dylan look at him. "I'm fine," the reply came to the question Riley hadn't asked. "It's just that it's this game, and it's fucked up, and it's dangerous, and I don't know--"

"Hey, hey, slow down. Who did what to you again?"

Dylan bit his bottom lip. "My former owner. He must be smelling blood in the water."

"What did he do?" Riley fought his instinct to squeeze his hand, as he needed Dylan not to be spooked by him.

"He just said a few mean things. Inmates must know you fell out of favor, Riley," Dylan said quickly.

"What mean things?" Riley asked.

"The usual. I'm not surprised."

"His exact words. Say them," Riley insisted and caught Dylan's face in both hands. "You know I'm like a dog with a bone when you try to hide something from me."

"I... he threatened me that he's going to mess up my face and use me as a punching bag."

"That all?"

"And alluded to something along the lines of my life being in his hands," Dylan added rapidly.

"Hmm. It looks like people are getting smarter around here. What do you know?" Riley moved away and leaned against the sink. "Are you sure you're not bothered at all about me proposing to Lola?"

"Do you want me to be bothered?" Dylan asked and stared at him in disbelief.

"A little bit of jealousy would be nice."

"Ah, fuck, Riley." Dylan shook his head. "I'm a little bit too busy worrying about getting shank every moment of the day. Being jealous of your Lola kind of slipped my mind."

Riley felt his cock through his pants. "Too bad. You give the best head when you're pissed."

Dylan ran his hands over his face. "You're something, you know that, don't you?"

"So I've been told."

"If it helps, if I hadn't trembled for a half a day because of my little encounter with the head of The Niners, I would have totally been pissed at you for proposing to Lola. By the way, what gives?"

Riley knew he could count on the pretty blond to get the blowjob he needed, but he wanted to make some things clear. "Worry if you want, but I'll take care of that fucker, too."

Dylan caught on right away. "What do you mean by that... too?"

Riley grinned. "Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Do you believe in Santa Claus, sweetie? All that thing, about naughty boys getting their just desserts?"

"Riley, what do you mean?" Dylan said each word slowly.

Damn, it was so nice to give good news. Riley put his hands behind his head and flexed his muscles. "It looks like a guard named Butch was the victim of a car accident. He's spending some pleasant time in the hospital, as a result."

"Pleasant?"

"They must have been given him some strong shit, so he has to be in Wonderland as we speak. You know, because of all the broken bones in his body."

"Who was the driver?"

Riley shrugged. "How should I know? They haven't caught him yet. And they won't."

Dylan groaned and dropped on his back, pushing away the blanket. "You must be kidding me," he moaned.

"Aren't you happy? You just got one less problem."

"I... I don't even know where to start."

"That Niners fucker is next," Riley said casually. "Although it may take a bit. Here, inside, it's not that easy."

Dylan turned towards him. Now was a good time for some gratitude. "Are you for real proposing to Lola?" The green eyes thinned as they took him in.

That was so much better. Riley grinned. "She's right about needing me to make an honest woman out of her."

"With all due respect, boss man," Dylan played along, "but in her case, that ship must have sailed a long time ago. Not that I judge. I'm worse than her."

Riley laughed. "Really? I thought you were better. Especially with your mouth."

Dylan gave him a murderous look. "Come on, Riley, what's the play? Why the sudden change of heart? You're not the marrying kind."

"Not telling."

"Did you just stick out your tongue at me? I'd suggest you put it somewhere, but I don't want to get in a car accident."

"Try me. You, I'd let off the hook with a lot."

"You sure?" Dylan looked at him with his eyes hooded and licked his lips.

"Totally."

"I suppose it's my funeral. How about you put that tongue in my ass?"

Riley could feel his cheeks hurting from grinning so much. Yeah, that was the little prissy fucker. The mouth on him. "See? I didn't get mad."

Dylan made a show of pushing down his pants and sticking his ass out the bed. He pulled at both ass cheeks. "How about you lick my ass, then?"

A guard banged on their door and Dylan quickly pulled back his pants.

"So brave," Riley drawled. "Well, it's lights out. How about you bring it, little man?"

tbc