Reasonable Doubt ✔ | Open Novella Contest 2020 | Complete

Deleted Scenes - Colt

This one was deleted, again, for word count. It's also highly unedited and I found it lurking in the sub-story space I dump all my deleted scenes and paragraphs. I'm not sure where it was initially supposed to go, as I nixed it fairly early and opted for more emotional stuff between the guys.

This was supposed to show a little more of the prison environment, how readily fights can pop off and how big a deal being an outed homosexual can impact a person's stay.

It was also supposed to showcase a newer inmate versus an older inmate. Alex gets right into the fray without stopping to think about why Colt is getting the crap kicked out of him 3v1.

x

Heading back to the unit after chow, I'm stopped on the back stairs by three men. I recognize one as Richardson's cellie, Barnhart. The other two, one big and one wiry, live on B-Boy. I should have known Richardson wouldn't take his beating without some kind of retaliation.

"Really, guys?" I mutter, balling my hands. "I ain't even had chow yet."

"Can it, fag!" Big snarls, throwing a wide haymaker.

I step into the blow as best I'm able, considering we're in the stairway. Wrenching his arm and heaving him over, I throw one, two knee strikes into his gut. Big crumples with a groan and I spin him, throw him into Barnhart. No sooner to they topple down a few stairs than

"The fuck you think you are, faggot?" Wiry lands a fully-cocked fist to my mouth and nose.

Stars burst behind my eyes, followed by a sharp crack dull ache. Broken nose. Again. "Son of a bitch!"

I'm tall, but he's taller. Has more reach. Doesn't stop me from landing a jab on his jaw, slinging an elbow across his temple when he gets too close.

Big and Barnhart have regained their footing. Through grunts and curses, the grapple me until Big has my arms cloistered behind my back while Barnhart lands kidney shots that I know will have me pissing blood. I buck and kick like my namesake, spitting blood and trying desperately to guard against the blows.

"What the fuck are you doing?" A Latino-lilt cries from the stair well above us. "Get off of him!"

Wiry's about to arch another haymaker when an olive hand catches his arm, yanks him back, and decks him with a singular punch to the temple. Wiry doesn't get back up and Alex steps over his body, squaring up and tucking his fists under his chin.

Big drops me and, dammit, I drop, coughing and spitting blood and just trying to breathe past the fire in my lungs. God, it's like I've been submerged in molten mud. No air in or out.

"Should have known you'd have your girlfriend come and rescue you," Barnhart spits on m. "Fucking fag."

I lash out with the Timberlands, feel a satisfying crack and snap of his knee. "Fuck you."

Big kicks me in the face so hard I crack my head on the cement stairs. Ringing ensues in my ears, my vision doubled as the kid lands body shot after body shot on Big. Too bad he's tiny, the blows landing like mosquito bites. Still, the two men back off, Wiry starting to come to on the stairs.

"Remember this next time Lawson asks you to collect a debt." Big snarls, yanks Wiry along with him. "Lets go."

"And stay gone!" Kid snarls after them. Turning to me, green eyes huge with concern, he knees where I lay crumpled on the stairs. "Colt."

"Don't fucking touch me!" I bark, spit blood, will my battered body to its feet.

I need to get back in the cell. Before Mowery and Burke come for their key round. Before Alex and I are thrown in seg for fighting. Only I can't fucking move.

"Shut up," Kid grows a backbone, grabs my wrist and helps me to my feet.

He forces me to lean on him. And, dammit, I need the help walking up the stairs. That headshot fucked with me. I barely know what planet I'm on, the way the world is spinning. Only I know that Alex can't touch my blood. Nobody can.

"The fuck is your problem?" I demand of him in the cell, staring at the drip-drip-drip from my nose and mouth into the toilet water. I'm going to be sick.

"My problem? You were getting gay bashed!" His tone is fierce but his eyes are soft. So fucking expressive. "You should go to medical, Colt. That last hit – "

"I'm fine."

"Colt – "

"I said I'm fine!" I roar, whirling on him. Only the threatening stance I try and take doesn't work. The room spins and I fall against the sink. "You're the one who's fucked."

Alex flexes his guns, folding his arms over his chest. "How so?"

"Should have let me take my beating, you stupid spic," I snarl.

"The fuck did you just call me, cracker?" He slings right back, eyes furious now.

Good. "Spic." I repeat. "I don't need you fighting my battles. I don't need your fucking help. Of all the rules in prison, you just had to go and fuck every cardinal one, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

I count off on my fingers – well, I think I do. There's to much spit in my mouth and black clots the edges of my vision. Everything hurts. My eyelashes fucking hurt.

I need him to see this. "You mind your own business, you stay out of the way, you don't run and defend the fag drug mule!"

"Colt," he's no longer angry. "Seriously, you need to get to medical."

"No. I'm cleaning up and going to bed." I shove his hand away where he reaches for me. "Do me a favor and make sure I don't drown in my own vomit. Otherwise leave me the hell alone."