The Prison (Book 1)

No Secrets in Prison

The door buzzed open and the door slid open, but I'd already scanned the inside our cell to see that Schneizel wasn't in it.

Where could he have gone at such a time?

He'd escorted me to the meeting with Julian, but when I'd finally come out of the visitation room, my emotions reeling, he wasn't waiting for me outside like I'd expected him to be.

I had to find him, and I had to find him fast. I didn't have much time to tell him that I was leaving. According to Julian, I had less than a week until my release -whether I wanted to be released or not. The reason I wasn't already out was because the boat that brought inmates to the island only came once a week, and Julian had already taken off on it to finalize the paperwork.

The next place I tried searching for Schneizel in was the cafeteria. Maybe Schneizel had gotten hungry while waiting and had gone for a quick snack, I inwardly mused.

A sense of urgency nipped at my heels, quickening my pace.

As I walked down the catwalks, I felt eyes burning into my back.

A nervous frisson shot down my spine. My eyes darted around, trying find whoever it was that was watching me, only to realize that it was half the cellblock, if not everyone in it. They blatantly stared at me from inside their cells and from where they hung around on the catwalks, a hint of curiosity in their eyes.

What the hell was this about?

Since Schneizel had announced me as his bitch to the prison leaders, word had quickly spread around the populace like wildfire. From then on, I'd turned into some sort of celebrity, constantly being watched and remarked upon.

This was different though. There was an... envious quality to their staring.

As I walked, I heard whispers being exchanged;

"I can't believe how lucky this motherfucker is."

"What?"

"He's getting released!"

"What?!"

"First, he lands the King's protection, and now he gets exonerated?! I can't believe this!"

"You haven't even heard the best part."

I blanched, somehow knowing what the tattooed gangbanger was going to say next.

"He's getting a million dollars from the bitch who falsely accused him or some shit."

"Get the fuck outta here."

"I'm serious-shhh he's coming."

Oh, but I'd already heard every word of their 'chat'.

It seemed that there were no secrets in prison.

It didn't bode well with him that some of the country's worst and baddest criminals knew that I was receiving a generous 'Sorry, I Messed Up" present with my release.

I couldn't get to the cafeteria fast enough. At this time of day, the cafeteria was mostly empty of inmates.

There was no sign of Schneizel here either, but I did spot his twin sitting all by his lonesome at one of the tables by the barred windows. Since becoming intimate with, well, both of them, I'd begun to detect the subtle differences between the two of them.

Quickly, I went to him.

"Where's your brother?" I asked Schneider, who was busy wolfing down a bagel sandwich. In two bites, it was gone.

He swallowed, wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned to say, "He's not here."

"Yes, I can see that. I mean where can I find him?" I asked in annoyance.

"I mean he's nowhere in the prison."

I blinked, stunned. It certainly wasn't what I was expecting. "What? Then where the hell is he?"

Schneider glanced around, and then said, "Not here. Follow me."

****

At a darkened corner of the prison that seemed to be devoid of both inmates and guards, Schneider explained, "Sometimes, when one of our shipments get unreasonably delayed or stolen, we have to go out and bring them in ourselves."

I exhaled a puff of air. "You've got to be kidding me."

Schneider grinned, mirth twinkling in his gorgeous eyes.

"Oh, you are serious." I shook my head from side to side in complete and utter disbelief. "Why do you two even stay in this place if you can just leave it whenever you want?"

"Believe it or not, it's safer for my brother and I to remain in prison."

"How so?" I just couldn't imagine a situation where staying in prison was the safer option, and especially not in a prison like this. Who'd want to stay here willingly if they had the chance to leave?

You.

Oh, yeah. Only an hour ago I'd been willing to throw away any future of a life outside The Prison from Hell in the name of undying love. And I still was.

How insane was that?

Schneider explained as if he was talking about a minor thing and not a criminal offence, "We raised too much heat outside. Once we almost got ourselves on the top wanted list. Eventually, it became clear that the only way could live our lives without headache is by being pretending to play by their rules."

Schneider lit up a cigarette and took a drag from it. Exhaling, he said, "We're not kidding when we say we own this prison. It was built and is run and managed by a private company like much of the prisons in the country. That company is ours. Well, my father's, actually."

It was insane hearing just how much the 1% could play the system. It certainly sounded surreal. Could someone really twist laws and facts like this without, seemingly, any consequences?

"It's like I'm in a fiction book," I scoffed. Then, I asked with the hint of worry and fear seeping into my voice, "Please tell me he'll be back soon."

My heart pounded as I impatiently waited for Schneider to take another drag, blow it all out in a puff of cancerous smoke, and say, "Fuck if I know."