Page 5 of My Daddy Is An Ex-Con

Spikes jut out from the walls as a musty smell enters my nose.

The only window is fifteen feet above my head and blocked off with metal bars.

The floor is slippery and wet—I pray I’m not standing in some freak’s cum.

"Hello?" I shout, walking toward the side of the room that appears to contain the door. "I’m hungry—you assholes are going to starve me."

A voice grumbles from the hallway. "I’m just the guard, dude."

Wrapping my hands around the bars on the door, I shake it. "I’ll blow you if you let me out."

I hate to toot my own horn, but I can be something of a genius under stress.

Of course, I'm not going to blow this guard—gross—but tricking him into entering my cell so I can bash his head in?

I'm one smart cookie.

The guard isn’t impressed. "Yeah, they warned me about you."

"I’m not cut out for the kidnapping life," I lament. "Help me."

The thug life? I’m all about that—I’ll bust a cap in an ass quicker than 50 Cent.

I’m also about thepuglife—the stuffed variety.

Cloudy is my OG stuffy, but the adorable puppy ones I have in my room—my Little sanctuary—are amazing, too.

The guard groans. "Get back to your cot."

"It’s uncomfortable."

"Too bad."

I tap my foot on the ground. "I’m a busy boy. I have classes to attend, friends to gossip with—and, oh yeah,I need to find a Daddy.Call me crazy, but I don't have time to deal with being kidnapped."

"You’ll be in a world of trouble if you don't quit talking."

I push out my lips. "Unzip yourself and let me suck you off. Then,accidentallylook the other way while I run out."

The guard rises to his feet and walks to the door.

He shakes it, growling as he stares dead into my eyes. "Don’t tempt me."

All at once, a wave of hesitation cascades over me.

Hmmm—I thought teasing the guard would be a great plan, but I don't want this dude’s dickanywherenear my mouth.

Plastering a brave smile on my face, I head back to my cot and plop down. "I changed my mind. Keep your dick in your pants."

"Are ye saying that because I’m Scottish, lad?" The guard pushes out a growl. "I promise ye I’m not hairy—I’ll be your smooth, kilt-ed Daddy. Be my little lad—or my lass. I have a kilt that’d fit ye."

I bury my head in my scratchy blanket—I pray it doesn’t have bedbugs."I’m only into the Irish."

As the guard rambles on about me submitting to him, my mind flashes to the two men who kidnapped me.

What the fuck was their motive?

Why did they kill Amedeo Luciano's ex-boyfriend, Bolan?

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