Behind the Wrong Bars

Behind the Wrong Bars Chapter 2

I am trying my hardest to not say 'Black guy' too many times, cause it sounds racist to my own ears...so I try to give them all names before I com-bust from racial insensitivity, but until such a time, I honestly cannot do anything, cause really, 'black man' is the best description I've got this far....I'm sorry.... (that was more to myself than you readers...) So please, no burners at my use of language :3

Chapter Two -- Is it possible for an Angel to walk among Demons?

I watched the blond man next to me for a while, before I finally opened my mouth and spoke.

"Hello...what is your name?" I asked, wanting to slap myself for the ridiculousness of my question. Not the mention the sheer....idiocy of asking such a thing. I thought the man was going to hit me.

But instead of hitting me, he kept eating. I blinked. "Jason Demier." He bit into another peace of meat. I blinked again, before swallowing.

Well darn.

I shouldn't have really been surprised. Sure, the first time I meet my cell mate was when I was practically being molested by a dude...well, I couldn't really say that, since technically I could be molested by a dude...

But that was all fine print, no?

I wondered what the man was in here for. He did not look like a murderer, nor a drug dealer... He did not look like he would do anything that would warrant his arrest and imprisonment. Odd. But his movements...they were controlled. Strictly controlled. Those where the attributes of of someone who could kill. He was like a demon with the face of an angel....

Oh, wait...that is what demons were in the first place.

It still baffled me that such a lean, muscled, relatively harmless looking male could make a group of equally strong (if not more so) looking black men walk away.

Jason Demier seemed like an angel walking among demons...perhaps a fallen angel would suffice as a better term of phrase.

"You should watch out."

"Huh?" I turned my head to who had spoken, my mind slowly falling back into the real world.

"You should watch out better in here." Demier pointed at me with his fork. Yeah, like hearing the phrase sixty times an hour was going to help me. I smiled sheepishly and slightly frigidly, sliding closer to Killian. As the intimidating blond man turned back to his food, I rounded on Killian.

"What the heck! Why didn't you even help me! Were you just going to let that dude get his way with me?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down and avoid any more unwanted (so very unwanted) attention being drawn to me.

"It would have been in your best interests, you know." Sebastian spoke up.

Sebastian Ravensdale, British by decent. He was a friendly, if not slightly mysterious and withdrawn, character. He was very open with Killian - from what I could only assume was a long running friendship...or something like that - and slightly open with me. He was cheerful, but not nearly as much as the blond sat next to me. Sebastian was like a polar opposite of the blue eyed, blond haired Killian. Sebastian Ravensdale had raven black hair, similar to my own, with dark brown eyes, borderline black. He was not very pale. He had a nice tan as far as I could see. As far as the reason he was in here or the length of his stay, I had no clue.

Anyways, Sebastian was also a very logical person. That being said, I knew that his words held merit. I would have been safer if I had just...given in, but I could not, not to anyone. No one in this place could discover my real gender, because if anyone did... no amount of protection would keep me safe.