The Fall Guy (Eastward Prison Story)

10. Kaden

CHAPTER 10

KADEN

The drizzle doesn’t put me off as I lap the yard for the twentieth time. The gravelled track crunches under my feet with every step.

Ernie sits on a bench near the door, smoking a cigarette. My cravings have subsided, and I’m no longer in a hurry to light up. Smoking and exercise don’t mix. I’ve got more energy since I went cold turkey and more time to burn it off.

Max is a fast motherfucker, and I’m forever failing in his shadow. Sweat drips down my back as I try to keep up with him.

It’s peaceful in the yard, even if I’m surrounded by people. I can think more clearly, as if the oxygen reaching my brain is fresher.

Smoking used to relax me, but now I’m not sure it would help. Being on the move is better than watching the world go by. It’s easy to go insane in here. Standing still isn’t something I can afford to do, or I’ll be going stir-crazy. Another lap, another faux minute of freedom.

Max slows to match my pace so he can run alongside me. “Showers, then church if you’re still in?”

I nod. “Yeah. I could use some holy water.”

The only reason I’d take anything from church would be to cause sin. Holy water would probably burn me and everyone else at Eastward like vampires in sunlight. But no one has ever called me sensible. I’ll try the water if it’s offered.

We finish our lap before heading inside. The guards open the gates, and we move through the compartments into the belly of the prison. After grabbing a shower, I dry off, dump the towel, and change into fresh clothes.

Once in the main room, I don’t have to wait long until we’re taken down for the Sunday service. We line up like school children before walking down in single file.

I haven’t been inside a chapel since my dad’s funeral. The smell of frankincense and myrrh brings back memories of that dreaded day. My dad was a hard man but also the person who grounded me, and without him, I feel lost. I fight back the pain threatening to invade my chest, choosing to focus on the organ that starts to play.

Both Ernie and Max find a seat in the front. They pick up the hymn sheet. I sit in the second row next to the two cronies who dragged Rio into the TV room. The priest runs an ordinary service, or at least that’s what I think it is; I’ve never been a regular. We sing, we pray, and we are blessed with holy water that doesn’t burn after all.

After the majority of inmates leave, the priest calls me to his chamber. I guess there’s no threat in a holy place, although there are a lot of candles everywhere.

“Great service, Father,” I say.

It’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever given. Listening to a guy talk about his passion for God isn’t something I enjoyed. Faith isn’t going to reform me. At this point I’m not sure anyone can save me.

“Thank you, child,” he says, holding his hands out for me to take.

I hesitate at first, not sure how this is supposed to go. I’ve never had a meeting with a priest before. He reaches into his pocket with his right hand before placing both of them around mine. Cold metal lands in my palm, making me frown. It’s too small to be a knife but has sharp edges.

“Thank you.” I take the item, getting a quick peek at it before slipping it into my pocket. It’s a small, handcrafted knife with a thin handle.

“Don’t overthink the gift. It’s for protection only. I like to look after my boys. That reminds me, I need someone to help me set up for the Sunday services. Can I count on you?” he asks.

“Of course.”

He nods. “Excellent. Have you spoken to your family back home yet?”

I rub the back of my neck feeling a little uncomfortable with the question. “No. I called my brother but he didn’t pick up.” I’ve been trying to forget about my blood relations. They haven’t supported me through this. Fuck them . I don’t need them.

He pulls out a piece of paper and an envelope from the top drawer of his desk before handing them to me. “Think about reaching out. God put you with them for a reason. They’ll forgive your mistakes if you let them. I’ll see you before your run next week.”

I never told him about my running resume. Maybe he’s trying to tell me he has eyes and ears all over the prison, or maybe I’m being paranoid. I thank him again and leave his chamber.

Max and Ernie have their private meetings with the priest. Since there are no guards to take me back to my cell, I have no choice but to hang around while everyone is finishing up.

Finding a pen near the organ, I stare at the blank paper the priest gave me. Should I write to a member of my family? I wonder how private my letter would be. It makes sense to keep my message cryptic but to the point. I have so much anger toward my brother the pen pierces the paper

I write:

Dear Kai,

You screwed me over. What was I supposed to do when your wife was crying, and your boy needed his father? I didn’t deserve prison, but you left me no choice. Now I’m rotting in a cell, and you don’t even have the decency to visit.

Fuck you brother

I screw up the paper into a ball and shove it deep into my pocket. My thumbnail catches the edge of the blade, giving me a small cut at the end of my finger. I suck the metallic tasting blood into my mouth, letting it linger on my tongue. If I believed in karma, that was probably a sign not to post the letter to my brother.

Max approaches me while Ernie is in with the priest. “Did you get the blessing you needed in the priest’s chamber?”

I touch the new toy in my pocket. Although it cut me, I’m happy to have the gift. Jono’s death was a warning that not everyone is playing fair. Having protection is both a safety net and a risk of getting in trouble. If I get caught with it, the consequences could outweigh the benefits, but it could save my life if I’m attacked.

“A wish come true,” I say.

“Excellent. I have an idea how you can use it.”

I’m surprised the priest gave away incriminating information so easily and Max already has a task thought out. He’s either very trusting or he knows something I don’t. I may be in prison but that doesn’t mean I want to further my life of crime.

“Okay. I’m listening.” If he’s planning a Great Escape type situation, I’m doubtful it’ll work, but the alternative is going to put me in hot water. I’m not doing his bidding even if we’re both Cyclones.

“Your roommate could use a warning.”

I frown, caught off guard. “Rio.”

“How many other roommates do you have?” He laughs.

I wonder what his interest is in Rio. Does he know what’s been going on between us? No, that can’t be it. He must have other reasons for wanting to send a message.

“I thought you sorted your troubles with him the other day?”

He arches his brow at me. “Do you have a bond with your cellmate?”

I scratch my face, trying to keep my cool. There’s nothing going on with Rio and me. “What? No. Of course not.” My answer isn’t as smooth as I wanted it to be and probably raises his suspicions.

“Then there won’t be a problem.”

I don’t miss what he did there. If I refuse to do as he asked, it’ll look like I’m pining over my roommate, leaving me no choice but to accept. “Is there a message to accompany the scar?” I need to clarify what he wants me to do before I get in over my head.

“Tell him we’re watching him.” His serious gaze never wavers as he stares into my eyes.

The door to the priest’s chamber opens, indicating our time is up. It breaks the strange vibe between Max and I. Guards enter from the main entrance, completely ending our conversation.

We’re taken back to our cellblock. Rio is sitting on his bed when I enter my room. He briefly glances up before going back to his word search. I get onto my bed, hiding the makeshift knife under my pillow.

Rio has already proven he has what it takes to threaten me, and I guess I owe him a thank you.

I’ve proven myself to the Cyclones in the outside world and although I won’t do anything I don’t want to, proving my worth on the inside will only benefit me.

Our cell and surroundings are quiet, probably because it’s well after midnight. Rio never makes a sound during the night, so I’m unsure if he’s asleep. I hang down from my bed, trying to get a look at him through the shadows. The light from the moon isn’t so great tonight. His eyes are closed, giving me the chance to sneak up on him.

Untucking the knife from its hiding place, I make an advance, my heart pounding, which is unusual. It’s uncommon for me to get nervous when threatening someone. It’s not like I’m going to make an attempt on his life like he did me.

Coming to the top end of the bed, I crouch down to try and avoid his counterattack.

I run my finger along the sharp blade edge. It won’t take much to break his skin. I hold the weapon between my thumb and middle finger, bringing it close to his neck. The rhythm of his chest stays even, giving the illusion he’s asleep. I know Rio, though; it’s almost impossible to blindside him.

Starting above his inner right collarbone, I jab the knife edge into his flesh pulling it across to his shoulder. Metallic blood assaults my nostrils, but Rio doesn’t flinch. The sick fuck licks his lips like he’s enjoying this. Taking his time, he opens his eyes when I lift the blade from his skin. Blood spills along his top, soaking into the material.

“I hope you’re going to clean that up.” His voice comes out rough.

“This is a warning that the Cyclones are watching you,” I say, mesmerised by the blood pooling on his collarbone.

“So you’re an errand boy now? Just a little bitch who can’t think for himself.” He grits his teeth showing the first sign of anger.

“Fuck you, man.”

Max may have planted the idea of attacking Rio, but no one forced me. I did this because I wanted to. After the way Rio treated me that first night I owe him. My dick starts to harden, and I try not to curse. Why does he have this effect on me? Am I turning into a sick fuck, just like Rio? Violence doesn’t usually turn me on.

“Well, prove me wrong. Why did you cut me?” He lets out a huff when I don’t answer straight away. “Be a good boy and clean it up.”

A mixture of emotions run through me: anger, lust, and embarrassment. He’s playing me, and I don’t have a comeback argument. Getting to my feet, I climb back into my bed before I do something else stupid. I spin the blade between my fingers watching it glint in the moonlight.

Rio shuffles to the edge of his bed before getting to his feet. He grabs a few sheets of toilet roll, wets it and dabs his wounded skin. I watch him move around the room.

He attacked me, and it didn’t end in guns at midnight, so I’m hoping he’ll settle back on his bed.

He moves close to our bunks. He ducks down, and I close my eyes for a second in relief, but it’s short-lived. He flings his body over mine, pinning my arms to the bed, and my weapon slips out of my hand. He doesn’t attempt to retrieve it from the side of my neck.

“I said you need to clean this mess up.” He glances down at his shirt, his marked skin peeking through.

I swallow, conscious of the rise and fall of my chest. His injury is now dripping onto my top.

“No.” It’s one word that means so much. Defence is the only weapon I have left.

He pushes his hard length into my groin, and I feel it right down to my toes. “Did you know you could’ve killed me with your choice of anatomy? If you’d cut deeper, you might’ve caught my subclavian artery, and I could’ve bled out into the tissue surrounding it.”

What, so he’s a doctor now too? No way. He’s probably watched too many crime or medical shows just like me. I only considered avoiding the carotid artery. I’ve seen enough murder mysteries to know that it could be disastrous to cut that vessel accidentally.

“Shame I missed,” I say, hoping I have a good poker face. I’ve threated people before, but not like Rio. Rolling the dice with him is like nothing I’ve experienced before, and I’m never quite sure how either of us will react.

He bites down on my shoulder, sending pain shooting through my body. I try to push him off, but he holds firm.

“Careful, Kaden. You’re not in control right now.”

“What and you are?” I challenge. However, we both know I’m not in a position to argue.

He thrusts his groin back down towards mine. “There’s only one way you’re taking power from me, and you’re too chickenshit to do it.”

“Maybe I’m not interested in you like that.”

“Maybe?” He raises an eyebrow. We both know I’m affected by his actions.

I involuntarily lick my lips. He studies the gesture before his eyes fill with lust. He bites the corner of his mouth, waiting for my next move.

I’m paralysed to the spot. One wrong move, and this could end badly.

I’m hard. We both know it even though I’m trying not to think about it.

I hesitate for too long, and he starts to laugh. It starts low and soft but grows into a full belly rumble. Rolling off he climbs back into his own bed while shaking his head.