Dead By Night Time - [ENGLISH]

38. Thirty-five Days Stuck.

Pov Asher Wilson
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'Eighteen, nineteen and twenty.' I puffed, sitting down on my knees after the last set of push-ups. I had made it my thing to kill time in this damned jail. 

They had placed me in a real prison after a while instead of the police station. I didn't mind, until I heard that Dustin fucking McCoy was released after 6 days spending here. Jeffrey was already released as well, already when the three of us were still at the police station. I was so pissed off. 

The officers had told me that there wasn't enough evidence to keep him there, same went for Dustin, and I? I've been stuck here for over a month already. The reasons they had told me when I asked why I was here still, were pathetic, not even true. I don't know how Dustin fixed it, but he got me into crap here. And so did Bea for putting some of the blame on me. 

Conkling had told me that Ace Cooper didn't exist, and when they went through my phone, none of the messages I sent to him and he to me were there anymore. Next thing is that they didn't found my notes about Bea and her missing in my bedroom, which is fucking strange because it was laying on my desk when I left and I don't believe my mother would have moved it. But they did find something else in my phone and in my bedroom, and Lord may know how it got there, because I'm clueless. 

Conkling said they found papers stuffed under my mattress and stuffed between my clothes in my closet about plans to kidnap Bea and to murder Billie. Same goes for my phone. There were photographs and notes about stalking the two and breaking in and I don't know why it's there. Dustin must be a wizard.

'You look mad, bro, stop frowning your eyebrows so much, you will get wrinkles.' Ridge muttered from his bed, his gaze on me which showed his usual calm look.

Ridge Evans, the man I shared my cell with. He was twenty-four years old and sat here for a while already because he had a fight with two strangers and he beat them to the hospital, where one of them died. I didn't ask how long he had to stay, but it must be a good amount of years. Ridge looked like a typical man that you would assume to be in prison. 

His right arm was covered in a sleeve of tattoos and his right wrist had a silver watch around it. Jewelry like chains and rings weren't allowed in this prison, so with hate in my heart towards the security guards here, I gave it all to them. They better keep it somewhere safe. 

Ridge had a suntanned skin and dark hair with here and there a faded red lock through it bound up in a manbun. If I was a girl I'd definitely simp on him, since he was muscled as hell too. 

He was chill towards me, so I was good with sharing a room with him. He knew my story, and he said it sucked for me, then he started laughing and said he thought I was a serial killer when they brought me in here and he saw me for the first time. I decided I would take it as a compliment since serial killers look scary, and I want to look scary. At least I got bigger and more muscular now due to all the sports I did here, so that would make me look more dominant as well. 

I got along well with him, the first few days I didn't say a word to anything or anyone but after Ridge was plucked out of our bunk bed from the top to the bottom I burst out laughing and then we talked for the first time, which started with him saying that I'm such a sadist for laughing at people that get hurt. It was small talk at first, which was fine for both of us, and then it became bigger and bigger on its own, no rushing at all.

'Maybe because I, in fact, am mad.' I responded, rolling on my back while rubbing my hand over my rough feeling cheek. I had to shave again, was it not that I didn't have anything here to do so.

'Still annoying yourself with the fact that you're here locked up while being innocent?' He cackled, leaning up on his forearms to have a better look on me. I shot him a glare and rolled my eyes.