Reasonable Doubt ✔ | Open Novella Contest 2020 | Complete

Seventeen - Alex

Pain and white explode through my vision, the back of my skull screams from a blow.

Thrown face-first into the ground, my chin splits on the cement, salted iron filling my mouth. Groaning, I struggle to my knees, the room spinning.

Burke and Mowery rush toward the commotion. Vaguely, I hear the control-center radio blare Signal-3, E-Echo. Signal-3, E-Echo.

Otherwise: fight; send in the cavalry.

A whirlwind of chaos has erupted. Shouts, grunts, curses and threats. In the eye of that storm is Colt, fighting like a bear. I see the damage first-hand those Timberlands accomplish when he takes men to the ground.

A knee between my shoulders halts my progress, flattens me once more. I wheeze under the pressure. "Get on the ground." Mowery's voice.

I ignore the command, struggling under his weight. I need to get to Colt. It isn't a fair fight. The gang fights like jackals.

"Get on the fucking ground!" Mowery barks again, my shoulder wrenched behind me. "Cuff up."

Colt sustains a fully-cocked punch across the face. His head snaps back, blood spraying from his mouth. He falls against the stairs and grunts under a boot to the ribs. Then punches and kicking and jeering.

"Get off him!" I shout, positively quivering with indignation. The cuffs click over my wrists.

Mowery drags me to my feet by my elbow, escorts me, twisting and writhing, off the unit. More officers swarm the dogpile of inmates. Fighters get cuffed, taken out after me.

The image of Colt, battered and breathless on the stairs, looms. He doesn't appear in the infirmary, nor the shift commander's office, not even in segregation holding cages while Captain Johnson reviews the footage.

Who I'm surprised to see is Raphael.

Stitched and bruised, he's led into the small locker beside me. Once uncuffed, he collapses onto the ground with a groan.

I face him. "You alright?"

"Fag has hands like cannons," he laments and glances side-long through his black eye. "Sorry about stealing on you, ese."

I gape at him. "You sucker-punched me?"

"Had to keep you out of the melee," he shrugs. "You got that whole Stalker-Syndrome."

"...what?"

"Y'know. Like Harley Quinn and the Joker."

I cock a brow and clarify. "Stockholm Syndrome?" Then I scowl. "The hell you mean?"

"Couldn't have that piece of shit turning you out." He repositions in the cramped space, lets out a low hiss. "You needed help. Saw it on your face."

"Saw it - " I can't believe what I'm hearing.

"So I called my people." He states smugly. "Worth the hole-shot to put that gringo in his place."

With a roar, I kick the metal grate between us. "¡Hijo de puta! ¿Qué demonios te pasa?"

"¡Ay!" He grimaces away. "I did you a favor."

"You didn't do shit!" I slam my heel down impotently, then my fist. He's too far for the rattling to impact him.

"¡Calmate! - "

"I will not!" I seethe, absolutely furious.

"The COs - "

"¡A la mierda!" I punch the barrier. "And fuck you, too!"

The sounds and images fuel my rage. Colt crumpled on the ground, the wet snap of flesh and bone. All because of a stolen kiss in a world of ignorance and hate.

"Don't tell me you wanted it." Raphael growls right back. "That's not you. You're Javier's brother."

I know the implication. The image I kept up for my brother. Couldn't have his crew knowing baby Alejandro was bi.

"You don't know who I am." It's a low hiss.

"You don't take it up the ass."

I sneer. "Maybe I do."

Raphael looks like I slapped him. He blinks, scowls, and curls his fists. "That's just prison talking, man. You're not - " Something in my eyes must tell him otherwise. He changes tactics. "You'd choose a white fag-boy over your own people?"

Skin color isn't supposed to matter. Except it does in here. That's why there are gangs. Protection, extortion. Segregation based on race, sexuality, and hometown.

"Mi gente." Even I'm unnerved by how eerily calm my voice is. "Put me in the place."

"Híbrido," he glowers, then his eyes get soft. "You don't mean that. It's just Stalker's Syndrome talking. You're sick."

He really believes it. Like sexuality is a thing that can be cured. Not a part of who I am. "You're an idiot."

"You'll thank me, one day."

"Rios! Lopez!" The CO barks from the desk. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

I slump back down, shaking. The whole thing is infuriating. Colt withdrawing, getting injured. Raphael calling upon the Folk Nation, the whole notion that I'm too young and dumb to make my own decisions.

I don't need protection. I've handled myself thus far. I will continue to do so.

AN://

Happy March! Thank you so much for reading <3. I appreciate your attention, comments, and votes.

Thoughts on the gang activity? On Raphael "saving" Alex?

The gang names used in this novella are real gangs, as are their fighting style. Folk Nation (mostly Latino) and Heartless Felons (mix of everyone and everything) are notorious for pitting five-on-one fights to protect their interests.

Thoughts on the fight? Alex's reaction?

Thank you so much for the views and support. I really appreciate it <3.

Stay safe out there!

~ T