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Chapter twenty-eight

Lucien

M y patience is wearing thin, and the Lord has failed to answer my call. I’ve spent days in the prayer room with William, begging for God to hear me and guide me forward. Each time I was met with silence, as if he were punishing me when all I have done is follow his command.

On my knees at the foot of the altar, I sit on the back of my calves and ankles, knees spread for balance and acceptance of his anger and grace both. With my head tilted back, I stare up at the crucifix with my eyes shut. Inhaling deep breaths to draw in the Holy Spirit— submitting to his power.

If only the fucker would respond.

What do you do if the one that is supposed to guide you, protect you, and lead you down the right path, is nowhere to be found?

I feel like I did when I was just a boy, stuck in my room with my mother’s dying body. She may have not passed away in front of me but she was dying years before she took her last breath, and I witnessed it all. My first run in with death. It will change your soul; this I promise you.

Hearing William enter the room, I can sense him coming to a slow as he approaches the altar. Seeing me here kneeling before Jesus. Opening my eyes, I can see the vibrancy of blood dripping from the Son’s tender skin where the nails and the crown have penetrated.

He is magnificent, albeit weak.

“What is it, William?” I snap, getting annoyed with his supervision.

“I wasn’t expecting you today, then to walk in and seeing you kneeling at the altar caught me off guard. Are you alright, Lucien?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine!” I yell, body tensing under the frustration that radiates through me.

“Alright, alright. I’m here if you need support.”

Before I can snap at him again, I hear the soft sound of his shoes moving across the carpet as he walks away, followed by the audible click of his office door.

Do you know what would make you feel better? One of the voices asks.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to hear from you today.”

Too bad, we are here anyway. Said another.

“No one asked you either.”

You should spill more blood, that wasn’t enough the other day. You need more, you know that.

“I said, SHUT UP!”

They are right but I don’t want their opinions. I have enough opinions coming from all directions.

“Lucien?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, can’t I get a moment of peace!”

Shoving up from the floor, I turn and glare at whoever is calling for me. At the door stood One and Two—unsure which one of them spoke since both the goons were usually mute.

“Nate is calling for you,” Two answers.

“I’m not a dog; he doesn’t call for me.”

“We’re sorry, he insists though,” chimes One.

Tilting my head left then right, each one resulting in a crack of my neck and spine, I walk over to the men. Stopping before them, I let my eyes rake over them both, from head to toe and back up.

“You disgust me.”

“Sorry, Sir,” One replies.

The lowest lifeforms on this God forsaken planet—those who hate for no reason, I’ll give them one and it will have nothing to do with my skin color. A smirk pulls at the corners of my mouth as I direct for Two to walk ahead of me, hands tucked into the front of my jumper. They exchange glances with each other then conceded, heading out of the prayer room to lead me to Nathan.

The irony makes me laugh.

When we make it to Nathan's hideout for the day, I watch him interact with a few other baby racists. Smacking one upside the head, humiliation isn’t the best motivator but punishment is.

Tell that to Kace. One of the voices rattle off, making me huff out a response.

“Lulu, good to see you!” Nathan calls out, waving me over.

Approaching, I look over the kid he just slapped around a little before making eye contact with him.

“This is your only warning, don’t call me that.”

“Come on, lighten up. You never had a nickname?”

“I do, but you don’t get to use it. Now, what do you want?”

Turning, he put his hand out towards one of his lackeys and the guy slaps what looks like a phone into his hand. Keeping my expression neutral, I wait for him to explain why he interrupted my prayer time to look at a hunk of plastic with electrical components.

“I got a video I thought you would like to see,” he answers.

Call me curious, I take it from him after he brings up something on the screen. Looking down at the display, anger floods my veins. It’s a dark photo but I can plainly see what is captured. Swiping, I see another photo. Then another—and another.

I told him not to touch what’s mine.

Without a word, I toss the phone at Nathan's chest and walk off, his annoying, meat grinding voice following me.

“What are we going to do about that?”

“You’re not doing anything until I decide otherwise. Go back to your normal dealings, Nathan.”

My boots carry me at such a pace, I might as well jog, but if I do, it will set off the hounds. With a new bus of inmates this week, there are a few extra guards lingering around. Ensuring that they acclimated to the prison without getting the life beat out of them. At least not yet, it’s bound to happen though.

In C Block— they really should secure the blocks better—allowing inmates to roam freely in a max facility is not helping them at all. I look around and find him, talking to his Hispanic friend, the only one that really has his back in here.

Closing the distance, I come up behind him and curl my hand into the unruly white strands on the top of his head and yank back—knocking him off balance. When he crashes to the floor, I grab under his chin, and drag him across the tile away from his buddies. His legs kick to get traction but fail, hands reaching to grab and claw at my arms.

“EY!” Kace’s friend shouts, rushing after us. Digging into my jumper I yank out the shank and hold it an inch before Kace’s right eye, the sharp end threatening to impale his blue orb.

“If you know what’s good for your friend, you’ll back up.”

“Let him go…” Matias growls, a few other homies coming up to his left and right, beginning to circle us.

“I need to have a conversation with him, and you are delaying that, back off or this is going into his skull.”

Kace is panting beneath me, my legs now straddling his back while he sits between them. Sweat beads on his temple while his throat worked through a swallow. The hole I left in him a few days ago still scabbed up but healing nonetheless.

The tension between all of us is heavy, you can usually feel how thick it was but this was something else. As if the weight of the entire prison was settling on this moment right here. Which I can’t help smile over.

With my eyes focused on Matias, I press the side of my face against Kace’s, the dark strands of my hair tangling with his like an ominous ying-yang.

“Call them off or you die right here, right now, and you never get to see our whore again.”

“M— Matias… back off. Please,” Kace strains.

“Nah, Cotton Top, not happening. He won’t get far enough before he’s in the ground.”

Just as I go to speak, my vision darkens along with excruciating pain shooting through my head, forcing me to drop my shank and let Kace go. The same blunt force enters my shoulder, then my ribs; arms lifting to block whatever was causing the torture.

“Nadia!” Kace shouts.

Trying to pry my eyes open as the hits came to an end, everything is blurry but I can see her. The black of her uniform lingering over me when she grabs the front of my jumper and yanks me up to her. Kace likely keeping his distance because he knows if he touches her, to get her to stop, then the rest of the guards would descend upon him.

“You chose the wrong inmate to fuck with, Lucien. He is MINE and I will not hesitate to break every bone in your body if you so much as try this shit again,” she growls out. “I have an unmarked grave with your fucking name on it. So, test me, inmate.”

God—she’s perfect.

“Someone get the meat wagon in here, and get him out of my fucking sight!” Nadia barks as inmates disperse. She doesn’t know it, but she just sealed his death sentence.

Colossians 3:8 - But now you must also rid yourself of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips.

Chained to a stretcher, I was wheeled out of Darkwater for imaging that resulted in a fractured skull and slight bleeding along with contusions on my arms and a few broken ribs. She dished me a good one and I don’t think she knows how proud that makes me. I knew there was a darkness inside of her, I saw it when we were kids. When she would get in fights during grade school, the way she wailed on the other kids and took hits. Like she was striving for pain so she could feel something physical rather than the emotional kind.

My empty little Nadia, I cannot begin to explain how much you continue to impress me. Now to break you even more.

It took a few days to get back to the prison, the hospitalists wanting to keep me for observation. Unsure if the bleeding was going to stop but when it did, they processed my discharge expeditiously. Did they want to get rid of little ol’ me already?

They wound me.

“Welcome back, Lucien. Let’s keep your antics to a minimum, alright? You’re restricted to your cell until Nurse Cindy has determined you are free to return to gen pop based upon your injuries. Anything else and you will go to solitary, understood?”

Zurita, he’s been quiet lately but ever the observationalist. With a silent nod, I answer him as my cell door is closed but not enough for it to lock.

Interesting.

Taking a look around, I drop down on my dead cell mate’s bunk and sprawl out. One leg hangs over the side, as the other bends and my foot braces against the thin mattress. Lifting an arm, I prop it under my head where the opposite drapes along my torso. I have rested enough over the past few days yet here I lay, glaring at the cinder-block ceiling like it was the one who wronged me.

I simply needed the day to pass, the day light was too much for the pain throbbing in my skull— once the night fell though? I’ll emerge from my cell like the wraith my Lord fashioned me to be.

Kace

The brutality Nadia displayed shocked me. When she hit Lucien the first time, it didn’t bother me that much. It was the ones that followed that had me on edge. She kept swinging her baton until Lucien conceded, the cracking sound of his bones accompanying each swipe of her weapon. My eyes were blown wide, calling for her even as she seemingly blocked me out, yet it was all over in the blink of an eye.

Medical staff came to scrape Lucien off the floor before she made any attempt to look at me. I should be shaken to my core but I’m not, having a shank threatening to take out my eye was one thing, but seeing her in all her violent glory had me on edge.

Gen pop was cleared out, inmates ushered back to their cells, then I was restrained and pulled into an interrogation room to ask me if I knew what encouraged Lucien’s violent attack. When I didn’t have any answers for them, explaining I was sitting there talking to Matias when he put his hands on me, they let me go.

Catching her outside of the checkpoint leading to the administration office the next day, all I can do is make eye contact with her. When she looks back, her lovely smile leaves me speechless— what is going on in that pretty head of hers? Tilting my head, I motion for her to follow.

Taking post outside of the cafeteria, I wait for her and the second I see her body round the corner, my hand reaches out and grabs her elbow. With a firm grip, I drag her along with me, away from where I was standing ‘til we are far enough down the corridor I can speak freely with her.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You nearly beat Lucien into a coma yesterday.”

“I know.”

Her smile disarms me, the demon's hands reach and brush along my waist when her gaze drops then rakes back up my body. Along with her perusal comes a chill. In that moment, I actually feel scared of her.

“He needed to learn that he couldn’t go around doing shit to you like that and if he does, he will be punished.”

“Baby…” I start but stall.

A piece of me is flattered that she would go so far to keep me safe, but at the same time there are limits we have to be cautious of. Just another thing that could get her locked up.

“Yeah?” she asks breathlessly, those smoky eyes softening when she peers up at me through her lashes.

“You can’t go around beating the fuck out of people.”

“My reaction wasn’t abnormal, Kace. The other officers have seen me do worse.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Are you defending Lucien?”

“Of course not! I’m trying to keep you here, close to me, safe with me.”

What doesn’t she understand?

Grabbing her hands, I lace our fingers together, leaning in to brush a kiss to her forehead. Breathing her in, the scent of her shampoo filling my nose.

I love this girl, even if she scares me.

“I have to go, I’ll see you before my shift ends.”

My heart stutters when she pushes up on her toes and kisses me out in the open. She is playing with fire, with freedom, and with her life. Never have I met a woman with as much gumption as Nadia, she is just as wild as when I met her but something changed. I just hope our relationship isn’t her downfall.

The prison is quiet tonight, outside of the annoying sound of metal scraping across a hard surface and the insistent dripping that is off to my left. It’s dark, dank, and cold. I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I try to open them and the left one starts to burn, but there’s nothing. Like the cones that created the image in my head are shattered and they translate nothing.

Lifting my hand to rub at it, I felt the bite of metal circling my wrist, followed by the clanking sound when I instinctively yank.

“What the fuck.”

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

I freeze at the voice that comes from somewhere in the dark of wherever the hell we are.

“The fuck did you do to me?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?” I ask.

The slap of boots through water echoes to my right, which I tried to turn and look but the restraints holding me to the chair I am in bite down harder. Each time I move, they tighten, the whole-body version of a Chinese finger trap. When he comes round, the slight bit of light spilling in through a tiny hole above us, the features I don’t want to see fill my singular vision.

“Our agreement? An eye for an eye. Nadia damaged my vision, if only for a few days. So, as retribution, I took yours. Sometimes I am a literal man, other times I am not. Today is just your lucky day. Don’t fret though, the organ is still there, but it’s dead.”

“You WHAT?!” I shout.

Heat trails up the sides of my neck, the ache from a blind eye digging deep into my skull now. Sleep must have muted the pain at first but his words wake me up and memories of our interaction came rushing back.

Watching as Nadia walks away, my chest hurts for her. I’m not a doctor but I can see her changing so drastically that it may become a problem later. I can leave her before things got too out of hand but I won’t. She’s had everyone turn on her throughout her life— a mother that ran off, an abusive father, adults who were supposed to support her, friends that don’t really come around much anymore.

She said she prefers to be alone but I don’t think she sees how detrimental it is to her mental health. Witnessing the brutality she displayed when protecting me, nearly beating a man into a coma, is concerning.

Earlier I dropped off paperwork Matias is going to need to file his reduced sentence motion, which I hope works out in his favor. If it does, I won’t be shocked if other inmates start asking for similar help.

Turning on my heel, I come face to face with Lucien; the emptiest look in his grey eyes and a sinister smirk. All I can do is stand there and look at him in silence. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let other inmates push me around so things are coming to a head or he is about to do something unthinkable.

“L— Lucien.”

“We’re going to make a deal,” he said, ominously.

“Uhm… alright.”

Then my vision goes black.

“I didn’t make a fucking deal with you, you psychopath!”

“You did. Not that it matters, it’s been fulfilled.”

“No, I didn’t. I simply agreed to making a deal.”

“All I needed was consent and you gave it. What’s done is done.”

This cock sucker took my fucking eye!

Leaning my head back, I suck in several breaths trying to calm my nerves. I am trapped, restrained to what I assumed is a metal chair, in a fucking hole somew—the pit, I’m in the pit!

Turning I look around hastily, trying to take in as much of my surroundings as I can. Old cell doors hanging off their hinges, some lying across the floor, stone rubble lining the hallway we sat in. There is water streaming from somewhere, I can hear it, and hear as Lucien walks through the puddles.

Further down the hall, I can see periodic light streaming in from above, shadows passing on occasion, then the haunting whine I unwillingly became accustomed to when I was sitting in solitary. She was right, right about everything— it's directly below solitary.

Seeing me look around and absorb my surroundings, Lucien gets closer. Tilting his own head to see the light pouring in before he opens his stupid mouth.

“Don’t get comfortable. We are going to be moving later. This is just one part of it but I don’t want anyone close enough to hear you screaming.”

“What do you mean, move?”

“We will be moving to a different side of the prison, away from drains that would let your pathetic cries be heard.”

“Why the hell are you doing this?”

“You want the list?”

“No, not really. Just give it to me in the simplest form.”

“Because you touched what wasn’t yours after I told you not to. You’d do well to listen.”

“Nadia doesn’t belong to you.”

“That’s where you would be wrong. She’s always been mine. Even when we were little, she was mine.”

I’ve heard a lot of weird shit come out of his mouth, ever since he got to Darkwater, his obsessive religious bullshit, the way he would talk to himself on occasion when he thought no one else was listening. Yet the way he speaks about Nadia like they are lifelong friends makes my stomach sour.

Is he here for her?

“Is she why you’re here and not in some other prison?”

Lucien drops down into a squat, both of his hands on my legs like he is trying to keep himself upright— I hope she gave you a concussion and then some, you monster.

A wicked smile stretches across his face.

“You’re finally catching on.”

“Why?” I ask immediately.

“Something I saw in her when she was young. Maybe you’ve seen it now that she gave you a glimpse. She’s like me.”

“She’s nothing like you.”

“Of course she is. Tell the fractured bones in my body that she isn’t.”

“Talking to voices and murdering people is nothing like protecting what is yours and being lonely, Lucien. Please go find a whole bottle of pills and swallow the whole lot.”

He flips his hands over and pulled the sleeves up, showing me the scars that decorate the pale-tattooed skin there. Some smooth and running from left to right, other jagged ones trailing up the center of his arm. Lucien inspects them, one by one, almost as if he were in awe of what he has done to himself.

“I’ve tried to take my life more times than I can count. I’ve poured my own blood over the bodies I’ve broken, yet nothing. The Lord brings me back every time.”

“I think it’s your unwillingness to fucking die that keeps brings you back, not God. Your God would never let someone like you continue to exist.”

His head snaps up, eyes darkening at my words. I struck a nerve and I can’t be happier about that. He is weak. The pathetic excuse for a man who now holds on to me just for balance is nothing like Nadia, in fact he wis just like the others. Here to hurt her. If he wants to be in her good graces, to make her feel accepted or needed, then he’d be gentle with her heart and not alienate her further.

“She will never be yours, wasn’t back then, and won’t be now either.”

“Has she told you that she loves you yet?” he growled.

“N- no.”

Where is he going with this?

“That’s because sociopaths lack the full range of human emotion, Kace. She, literally, can’t love. She’s more like me than she will ever be like you.”

If looks could kill, I would have cut his head from his shoulders.