Page 72 of Sinful Touch

Imake my way out into the yard, walking past the other inmates who are already working out. Some are talking, and others are messing around.

I make my way over to the weight bench take a seat on the edge, and take in a deep breath. I lower my head and close my eyes, allowing images of Lil to flood into my mind, taking me away from this mad fucking house.

Doing time is easy; you do the same shit every day and count the days until the day comes when you get to leave. The physical part of being here is not hard. It is the mental madness inside my head that is causing me to start to spiral out of control.

I have been spending some time writing, but the words are not coming as easily as they were before. It is harder for me to write dark romance when I fucking lived through it.

The emotions I express through the words I write hit me differently. Every word means something completely different than it did before.

I open my eyes and lift my head. I lay back underneath the bar and grab onto the bar, lifting it; I take in a deep breath as I lower it and lift it back up, over and over again. Sweat rolls down my face as I go through every single moment I have spent with Lil, she is my everything and not being with her right now is fucking killing me.

“Jaxon Fox.” I hear my name, and my heart races as I place the bar back in place and sit up; four men are standing in front of me; they are covered in tattoos and big, like really fucking big.

“Yeah,” I say calmly. Since coming here, some have found out who I am, others haven’t cared, and others have told me how my books have helped them escape as they have been locked up.

“Did you write this?” one of the men asks, pulling a book from behind his back.

I look at the book and then back up at the man, I slowly nod “Yes, I wrote it”, I confirm.

“You have a way with words, man,” The man says, looking down at the book. Interesting choice. That book has a lot of trauma and darkness in it, but the romance and the love the two MCs find within each other is a beautiful fucking thing.

“That is what I have been told,” I say with amusement. I turn and look at the fence. The guards are making their rounds, waiting to see if things pop off.

“How are you adapting to everything?” Another man asks, pulling my attention back to the four men standing in front of me.

I take in a deep breath and shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

All four of them kneel in front of me, “How is your girl doing?” Another man asks.

I wish I could tell them that she was fine and that we were both fine, but that would be a lie.

“Not so good,” I whisper. Images of her bloody body on the ground fill my head.

“We watched the trial on the TV,” the man says softly. I can hear the disgust in his tone.

“Yeah, I think a lot of people watched it,” I confess; I don't know anyone who hasn’t. Chad made sure to get attention. He got on that stand and made Lil and me relive everything he did, and he made a point to share his thoughts about her as well. I think that is what put the nail in his coffin with the jury and judge. We watched as he got turned on by telling them his thoughts.

He held nothing fucking back when he shared what he was going to do to her. You would think that someone that was pleading guilty would keep all those details to himself, but the truth is he didn’t plead guilty because he was trying to get off and walk free. He did it because he knew that Lil would be there and would have to listen to every fucking word he had to say.

“We are sorry for what happened to your girl. Just know we are here for you,” the man says confidently.

I tilt my head to the side as his words sink in.

“Why would you guys do that?” I ask, looking them each over.

“We might be fucking criminals, but there are some things that we even look down on, and abusing women is one of them,” The other man confesses.

We all have lines we won’t cross, things we won’t let stand. This is that for them. I can see it in their eyes, they want to hurt Chad, and I have every fucking intention of helping them do just that. It might not happen today or even a year from now, but that fucker will suffer, and he will know it all is happening because of me.

“I might need to take you up on your offer,” I say softly.

“What did you have in mind?” They all ask at the same time.

Well, that is a loaded question, a smile forms across my lips as I lean forward resting my elbows on my knees.

“I have some ideas,” I whisper to them.

“We are game, whatever it is we are in,” One of the men says with a smile.

---