Get out of jail, get yet another crappy criminal henchman job, get his hotshot lawyer ex-girlfriend back. Oh yeah -- and get a murderous demon exorcised from his head. Jason Torres has his route back from rock-bottom perfectly planned out, right? Th...
The last remaining grains of sleep-sand were swept away by her voice.
Even when my mind was trapped in the depths of sleep, my bones would sense the foulness of her presence before she'd even reached the gates of the security compound. Each step closer would send waves of nausea crawling through my guts. My body would be fucking quivering in terror by the time she arrived.
But I always followed her back to her rooms. I couldn't resist her.
How often she would mock me. "Your face is a book, Ahmar. I can read the hatred in your eyes like a poem."
I could never hide anything from her: my fear, my disgust, my desire. She used it all as fuel for my torment.
"You want to kill me, Ahmar. So, kill me. I have no weapon. I'm in your arms. Strangle me. Break my neck."
At times I was brave enough to challenge her. "I serve the Demon. And the Demon wants you in my arms."
But never brave enough to leave her.
"You serve me, Ahmar."
Six thousand miles away. Still she owned me.
"Jay!"
Pain in my chest. Air punched outta my lungs.
"Jay!"
Urgent voices wailed all around me. The fog of sleep wouldn't shift from my eyes. I hit the cold floor, my face ground into concrete by a gigantic hand.
"Jay!" Robby's voice, frantic and loud in my ear. "Jay! Wake up!"
My body was pinned to the ground. Strong hands held me down. Two pairs of hands. Perhaps four. How many men were on me?
"Jay!" Robby wailed on. "Wake the fuck up!"
The cobwebs in front of my eyes disappeared in ghostly wisps. I was on the dining hall floor, Robby and a couple of the bigger dudes pinning me with desperate hands and knees.
Joaquín cowered feet away from me, his nose covered in blood. A guard with locs hovered around him yelling, bloodstained paper towels fluttering around in the chaos.
What had I done to Joaquín?
"Fucking psycho!" The guard lunged at me, locs swinging.
Two inmates rose up to meet him, before Robby put himself between them, hands raised in appeal. He shooed the guards to the corner of the dining hall and dragged me onto my feet.
"!Dito! Joaquín, I'm sorry!" I wrestled outta Robby's grip and stumbled toward the guards. "I'm so sorry, acho!"
"Take him to his cell." Joaquín pushed a guard in my direction with one hand, the other hand clutching a bloodied wad of paper towels to his nose. "You leave me no choice, Jason."
Handcuffs. A firm hand on my shoulder. The guard with the locs prodded me in the back to get walking.
"Joaquín!" I twisted my neck behind me as I was marched outta the hall. "Joaquín, I'm sorry, primo!"
Robby's trembling voice halted the guard. "What's gonna happen to him?"
Joaquín turned to me, his jaw set. "Mercedes Asylum."
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