Prison Bitch Ch. 10

Prison Bitch

10.

Cashel was a man of means and had been Riley's ride or die for as long as either of them could remember. But for the first time in forever, Riley had to fight off doubt. There was no way Cashel wouldn't come through. He always did. However, only the thought of letting Dylan in that psychopath's hands for yet another moment, and another after that, was enough to drive him mad.

What did Dylan think about him now? Probably that Riley was some shmuck, who couldn't even protect his bitch. Nah, Dylan was not like that. But he would think that he had been abandoned at the mercy of that fucker, and he probably feared for his fucking life.

That was the fucking problem. Riley rested his head against the door to cool it. His blood ran hot everywhere. Any moment that passed, that psychopath could just kill Dylan, and no one would fucking care.

Except for him, Riley O'Connor. Cobra. These fucking bitches needed to learn the name. Guys like Dylan, who needed to put their asses up to survive, weren't the real bitches. Bitches were those who thought themselves better than the alpha wolf in a place like that.

The warden, the stupid guards, who thought him fallen out of favor, didn't know half the truth about him. They looked at him and saw a successful businessman, a shady one, but still someone soft, carved from a world that lay outside, with its rules and easy life.

No one knew how he truly came to his fortune. No one, except Cashel, who had come with him once they shed their old lives and founded new ones. For the outside world, Cashel was a lawyer, a nose in the books kind of fellow. They had no idea what he could do. As for Riley, they saw the affable club owner, someone who played dirty only with the books, and never for real with people.

How wrong they were. All for the better, because Riley didn't care about giving up on his well-earned life for their sake. They had to know he was called Cobra. They must have wondered about it. But, in this new world, only he and Cashel knew why the nickname fit him like a glove.

The knock on his door pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He gestured with his chin for Sean to enter.

"Boss," his lieutenant started and then, pursed his lips.

"What do you have to tell me?" Riley preferred taking the bull by the horns.

"The head of the Niners gave Dylan to that fucker," Sean said. "Dagger is a fucking sadist. He's here for mutilating some chicks. But rumor on the street has it that they only found the girls that survived. The dead ones, they haven't yet."

"Either way, he's not here for murder," Riley concluded. "Still, why the fuck is he in gen pop? A guy like that belongs with a tougher crowd."

Sean shrugged. "He's kind of new here. A transfer."

Riley didn't believe in fortune tellers and speakers to the dead, and he didn't believe in coincidence, either. "Someone important must have put his signature on that piece of toilet paper," he concluded out loud.

Again, his lieutenant's face twisted into a deep frown. "You mean, someone who's after your money, right, boss?"

"You catch on quickly. I'm going to be straight with you here, Sean. I'm telling it now like it is. And you'll go and take the message to the boys, too." Riley paused for a moment, to give the other time to think. He preferred to know his allies before anything else. "I'm the proverbial hot potato right now. You feel the need to drop me, no problem. My door is open."

"What? No way, boss." Sean punched himself in the chest. "We're the fucking Greenies. The green in our veins doesn't lie. We're with you, no matter what."

Riley moved closer and towered over Sean. "You boys are here for petty crimes. You'll be out in no time. Are you really sure you want to risk your hide instead of playing safe?"

Sean didn't back down and looked him square in the eyes. "We're nothing out there, boss. We go out, we'll be back in. In no time. That's how it is for the likes of us. The Greenies, this gang, is what we have."

Sean was a good man. Riley patted him on the shoulders, hard, to test his resolve one more time. "Then here's my promise. All who remain by my side, everyone, you hear me, you can all count on me. There's going to be war."

"The fucking block stinks with it," Sean agreed.

"So, here's the deal. Survive this shit, get out, and then come find me. I'm a generous man. Neither of you will have to go back to stealing cars or whatever you're in here for. Your lives will change."

Sean's face lit up. "Awesome, boss. Now, about this war. The boys are getting ready. They're on the lookout. But we don't know who's going to be Sparky."

"Sparky?" Riley asked.

"Yeah, you know, the guy who's going to throw the first punch, get the party started."

"It cannot be from our side," Riley warned. "But you don't worry about Sparky. We'll have our party, and it's going to start soon. You just make sure you're ready."

Sean nodded. He wasn't the kind to run his mouth more than necessary, and Riley liked that about him.

"Tell me more about this Dagger."

"He plays a long time with his victims," Sean began. "Some of those girls that were rescued from his den had been there for like half a year. All damn pretty girls," he added and shook his head. "Messing up their faces, cutting deeper every time. Not like either of us is here for being some fucking choir boys, but that shit, it's just fucked up. Why would you do that to someone? You have a beef with some fellow, you settle it. But to torture someone, and so pretty, on top of all that. Too bad they didn't find the girls he killed. They should fucking lock him up, alone in a cell, and throw away the key."

"He'll get what's due," Riley assured him. "Now, you go back to the boys, and tell them what I told you."

"Sure thing, boss. We're going to save Dylan, right?"

Riley nodded shortly. "You can bet." He let a wolfish grin creep up his lips. "And that Dagger individual won't get to torture another pretty girl in his fucking life."

***

Dylan kept to a corner of the bed, making himself small, trying not to get his cellmate's attention more than necessary. Dagger was using the small table to arrange some chess pieces, although he didn't have a board.

His wound was itchy and it hurt when touched. He had tried to go to the infirmary, but his new owner hadn't allowed it, so there he was.

The fear he had experienced the night before continued to fester inside him. The man had said that he would cut him every three days. It was only the fear that kept him from acting up, fear that Dagger would consider other new torture in the meantime.

At least, it didn't look like Dagger wanted to fuck him again. Dylan didn't know why that thing in particular made him recoil even more than the promise of being cutting dangling over his head.

Riley had given him such a cold stare that morning. He must have known. He must have heard about how Dylan got fucked like a little bitch, and now he didn't want him anymore. And then, there was that cut along his cheek that would turn ugly for not being cared for properly. Dagger had assured him that his saliva was the best sanitizer. Dylan doubted it, although the man looked like a stickler for cleanliness. That morning, he had witnessed him shaving himself with unhurried meticulous moves. The entire cell looked like one could eat from the floor, which said a lot about the man's character.

"Do you know why I never use a razor?" Dagger asked, while he continued to fiddle with the chess pieces.

"What?" Dylan stammered.

"When I cut my beloved girlfriends," Dagger continued. There was no mockery in his voice as he said those words. "The cut is too thin. It is painful, no doubt, but I want to put a mark on the one I love each time I touch her."

Dylan remained silent and unmoving. Hopefully, Dagger wasn't truly looking for a conversation partner.

The dead eyes moved from the table to him. Dylan jerked his head away.

"You might want to argue that you cannot be my girlfriend because you're not a girl," Dagger continued. "I wasn't expecting someone as beautiful as you when Mr. Miller asked for my expertise on a delicate matter. And the good news is that I can focus on you alone."

Dylan closed his eyes and willed himself not to cry. His pretty face had got him into trouble before, but nothing like that. All the more reason for him to regret his life's choices. It was too late. And Riley wouldn't want him anyway, destroyed as he would end up, at the mercy of his tormentor for who knew how long.

***

One thing he had always known about Cashel was that he acted quickly. Riley expected shit to go down by tonight, so, when the lights went out, and the red emergency ones began to flicker, along with the alarm, he wasn't in the least surprised.

He watched as the guards started to run by, called to their duty through their walkie-talkies, and waited. Then, he walked through the door, no lock still working to keep him inside. Inmates from other cells must have realized the same thing, because it took only moments for doors to flow wide open, and the entire block population to start pouring out.

Riley hurried toward Sean's cell and accepted the sharp object pushed into his palm with a short nod. Gangs with unfinished business were already starting to test each other in the middle of the open space, while most inmates were just crazy happy to escape their cramped spaces and run amok.

There couldn't be a lot of time during which he could act. Pushing aside those who stood in his way, followed by his guys, he was not so easily plowing through the crowd. The anti-riot forces would arrive soon, so time was of the essence.

Still, he needed to make sure that his revenge would be neat and deadly.

"Boss, there," Sean shouted at him, and he turned to see the Niners huddling against their usual corner, as if they didn't know what to do with their newly found freedom.

"Keep them boys busy, I have a business to settle."

He took advantage of the masses pushing and pulling, and his guys used the confusion to go straight for the Niners. Riley had his eyes on his prize, so he was quick to drag the head of the gang from amid his acolytes and push him away from them.

Miller hadn't seen it coming, and that was all for the better. Riley knew the layout of the place like the back of his hand, something he had put his mind to learn from the moment he had set foot in there.

They were out on the landing and flights and flights of stairs lay below. Riley wasted not a moment and pushed Miller with his back over the banister, half of his body hovering above the space between.

"What the fuck?" Miller groaned while trying to fight him off.

"Do you know who I am?" Riley asked and pressed him further, while the other was flailing all his members helplessly. For all his big talk, Miller was a weak fucker. He probably could only show his strength against guys like Dylan.

"You're fucking O'Connor. What the fuck do you want?"

"Let me ask you again. Do you know who I am?" Riley pressed him harder. Now the man's head was a lot lower than the rest of his body. Miller struggled to grab at Riley's coarse prison jumpsuit, but each time he did that, Riley just pushed him lower.

"I just told you your name! What the fuck do you want from me?"

"My name is Cobra," Riley said slowly, as if he was speaking to a hard-headed child.

"Okay, okay, your name is Cobra," Miller squealed. "Now let me get the fuck up."

"I know you're the one who took Dylan last night."

"That wasn't me, I swear." Miller's right arm moved lower, but Riley was quicker.

He caught the man's wrist and slammed it hard against the metal banister. The shank dropped on the ground, while Miller groaned in pain.

"I know what you've been doing lately. Getting in cahoots with all the wrong people. Let me tell you this. You chose the wrong guy to mess with."

"Fuck you, Cobra."

There was still some spunk left in the fucker. Riley pushed him and grabbed him by the ankles just at the right time.

"Pull me back, pull me back," Miller croaked while he tried to grab anything he could with his only good hand.

"I can hold you like this for a long time. Do you have any idea what it's going to happen?"

"Don't drop me, don't fucking drop me," Miller continued to shout.

"I'll tell you since you look like you didn't go to school much. Blood is going to pool inside your skull and your eyes are going to fucking burst, while you're going to have a fucking seizure."

"Bullshit. Just don't drop me, you fucking fuck," Miller yelled.

"The only downside is that I don't have that much time. I guess I'll take the easy way to get rid of you."

Riley pushed Miller brusquely and watched as the man fell, screaming, until his head hit one of the stairs jutting out from the side, and the only noise he could hear was the thud of his body hitting the ground floor.

He didn't have time to check if the deed was done. The next on the order of business was saving Dylan.

***

Outside the cell, the world had gone mad. With the lights out, the block had turned into a jungle. Dylan watched his jailer carefully, wondering if Dagger would feel the need to run outside, screaming like the rest, in ecstasy for being free, even if just as an illusion.

But Dagger remained unusually calm. "The average response time for the anti-riot forces to arrive in a situation like this is about 28 minutes," he recited. "You can go to sleep if you want. The party's going to die out soon." He chuckled. "Forgive me the pun. A lot of these people won't be with us tomorrow. Use of disproportionate force, under such circumstances, is allowed. The infirmary is going to be full. Of men with many regrets."

Dylan huddled on his bed and turned his back. He couldn't sleep. He doubt he would ever be able to, again. Each time his eyelids had grown heavy, he had woken up startled, the searing sensation in his cheek alive just like when he had gotten wounded for real.

The sudden bang on the door made him jump. He looked to see if there were guards trying to warn them or getting them out, but it wasn't anyone like that.

Dylan gasped at the sight of the large silhouette looming over the door. Even with only the emergency lights on, he knew who that was.

"We have a visitor," Dagger said in the same measured voice.

***

Riley grinned and squeezed the shank in his hand while the door opened in front of him. In the dark, his awareness grew exponentially and he knew exactly where his opponent was and guessed every move he was doing.

"It's a bit late for a visit." Dagger's voice was cold and even.

"Sorry about that. I've been detained with business," Riley replied. "I'm only here to collect what's mine."

He could sense Dylan shuffling in his place, but he didn't pay the young man any mind. The only thing Dylan had to do was to get ready to run.

"I don't remember having anything that's yours."

This opponent wasn't a weak fucker like the head of the Niners. "No problem. I know for a fact that is the truth. I understand how you must have been tricked into believing that you were free to take my property."

"You're very droll, Mr. O'Connor."

"My name is Cobra." Riley moved fast, but as his arm slashed through the air, his shank didn't meet solid mass in its way.

As expected. Dagger wasn't an opponent he could afford to underestimate.

"Dylan, get out and get to the stairs. Go to the ground floor and go outside," he ordered.

"He won't do such a thing. The guards on the walls are going to gun him down," Dagger said and laughed.

"Dylan, now," Riley ordered.

The young man moved, showing that he didn't doubt him for a moment. Dagger jumped out of the way and caught Dylan before he could escape.

Riley grunted a curse. "Why don't you fight fair?" he growled. "Let him go. You had your fun, I heard."

"My fun? I'm in love, Mr. O'Connor and I don't intend to let go of the object of my affection just because you say so."

Dagger sounded like a fucking maniac. There was no note in his voice to tell that he was joking.

Riley moved fast. There was no time to waste. The clock was ticking. Something sharp grazed his forearm, but his hand was at Dagger's throat, and a gurgling sound came out.

Dylan's terrified moan warned him that something wasn't quite right. Dagger went limp and then fell to the floor, clutching at his throat, but the sound of something dropping let Riley know what the guy must have had more than one shank.

He grabbed Dylan, who had collapsed to the cell floor, too, and hiked him up. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"He stabbed me," Dylan breathed out and groaned in pain, "in the side."

Riley ground his teeth. This wasn't supposed to be some messy job, but things didn't always go as planned. He helped Dylan out of the cell and then threw him over the shoulder so that they would move as fast as they could.

"Riley," Dylan said softly when they were out of the landing, "you came for me."

"Let's leave the thanks and all to another time. I need to take you to safety, and now."

"What do you mean?" Dylan's words were weak and muffled.

Riley hurried down the stairs. He threw a look at the corpse on the side and then pushed open the door. Cashel better come through.

The night sky was brazed by the twitching lights of helicopters. "Where the hell is that fucker?" he groaned and put Dylan down to check on him.

"Now, I might take offense in being called names after I pulled my most brilliant work to date."

Relief flooded Riley's senses. "I love you, son of a bitch. Take him. He's been stabbed. Just make sure he's getting help, okay?"

He moved Dylan's weak body into Cashel's capable hands.

***

Dylan thought he was dreaming. A man all dressed up in black was holding him tightly and he was talking to Riley. The air smelled like they were outside. It seemed so different.

A hand touched his forehead and then warm lips brushed against his. "You be good now, okay, sweetie?"

The pain in his side seemed to have disappeared. And Riley was calling him 'sweetie', like always. He must have fallen asleep and he had to be dreaming about escaping from prison and all his troubles.

tbc