Page 12 of Serpent King's Revenge

"Thanks," I said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "But if I'm going to pull this off, I need to be smarter and tougher than ever before."

“Then you’ll do it,” she said simply. “You’re the most badass fucking human I know. Breaking your baby daddy out of jail? Please. You can do that in your sleep.”

Her belief in me made me smile. She was wrong, of course. But she was right about one thing: I needed to get Nathan out, before anything else happened to him.

Chapter Five: Nathan

The Cranes were up to something.

I clocked the whispers the second my cellmates figured I was out of earshot. Low and hushed, they were cooking up plans not meant for me to hear. The air in the cramped cell grew thick with secrecy, making my skin prickle with suspicion.

"Nice weather we're having, huh?" I tossed out, leaning back on the cold bunk, trying to break into their bubble. They shot me a glance like I'd offered them a dead rat for lunch and went right back to murmuring.

Hours dragged by. I tried chatting about food, sports, anything. No dice. These guys were tighter than a drum, and I wasn't getting a beat out of them.

Guards strolled past our bars now and then, keys jingling like some taunting tune. "How about letting us stretch our legs?" I asked one.

He grunted, the universal language for 'no chance,' and moved on.

So that was how it went—me throwing words at walls and them bouncing back like rubber balls.

And outside, the sun climbed up, hung high, and started its dive…but those iron gates never creaked open, not even a crack.

Night fell heavy around us. I leaned against the wall behind my bunk, my eyes gritty with the need for sleep. The exhaustion was a thick blanket, smothering every attempt to stay sharp. I hadn't caught a wink since…well, it must've been days now.

"Stay awake, Nathan," I muttered under my breath, a mantra to keep the sandman at bay. But even as I said it, my eyelids betrayed me, drooping lower and lower until they shut out the dim cell light.

The dream hit me like a sucker punch.

Ma's face, pale and still, her eyes open and staring at nothing…at everything. The blood—a stark pool of red that shouldn't belong in our kitchen, spreading from where she lay. Ba leering at the body like it was a war prize. Her eyes opened, bleary white as her body decayed, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream only for a snake to slither out of her throat—

Pressure, sudden and wrong, jolted me back to the cell. My eyes snapped open, heart pounding against my ribs. Above me loomed the shadow of a man, one of the silent cellmates, his hand gripping a shiv poised like he was about to carve a turkey.

Instinct kicked in hard and fast.

I rolled to the side, feeling the whoosh of air as the shiv stabbed the thin mattress where my gut had been seconds ago. The guy overbalanced, surprise etching his face for just a moment before he crashed onto the concrete floor with a grunt.

Adrenaline sang through my veins, washing away the remnants of sleep.

The second guy made his move then, lunging at me with a meaty fist. Too slow. I ducked, felt the breeze of his swing pass over my head. As he stumbled forward, I drove my fist into his stomach, hard. He groaned as he staggered backward, his back slamming into the metal of the opposite bunk bed with a clang that told me he wasn't getting up again anytime soon.

"Who else wants to dance?" I growled, squaring off for the next move.

But my words were swallowed by the chaos already erupting around us.

The third guy, silent until now, attacked from behind. His arm wrapped around my throat in a chokehold, cutting off air and making the edges of my vision blur. Panic clawed at me, demanding I fight for every breath. The one with the shiv was back on his feet, advancing, his eyes cold and hard.

With no air to call out, no help coming, it was down to dirty fighting—just the way I liked it. My legs shot up, knees bent, and I kicked out with all the pent-up fury of a man wronged. My heels connected with Mr. Shiv's face, and there was a satisfying crunch.

The impact sent him stumbling back, blood spurting from his nose like a busted pipe. At the same time, I threw my weight backward, slamming the guy choking me against the bars of the cell. Metal rattled, and the grip around my neck loosened enough for me to suck in a harsh breath.

"Fight! Fight!" The shouts began, starting with one or two voices but quickly picking up steam as other inmates woke up to the show. They started pounding on the bars, jeering and cheering in a wild cacophony that filled the cell block. The sound hammered at my skull, but it also gave me a twisted kind of energy.

"Come on then," I said through gritted teeth, readying myself for the next round.

One of the guys, a broad-shouldered brute with a face that had seen too many fists, lunged at me. His heavy punch swung toward my head, but I'd been in enough scraps to see it coming a mile away. I ducked low, the air from his missed swing brushing against my hair, and then I surged upwards with an uppercut aimed at his gut.

"Ugh!" He grunted as my fist buried into his soft belly, doubling over like he was bowing to some twisted king. His pause gave me the opening I needed. With a quick pivot, I slammed my elbow into the side of his head, sending him crashing into the bunk bed with a clang that matched the rhythm of the jeers outside our cage.

---