Time on the yard didn’t take my mind off that darn class. The burn in my muscles didn’t rid myself of the rage the brunette bitch had sparked within me when she dared insinuate I was no match for her brains, lying to my face, looking down on me without even knowing me. I did get back at her, acting like I didn’t give a rat’s ass, calling her on her shit, but I was still raging. No one spoke to me like that. I ate bitches like her for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.
“Going hard on the weights today, ain’t we, Furore? What’s pissin’ ya?” Maverick, a piece of shit runner for Lanza’s Mob, hunkered down next me, a slimy smile on his fucking face.
What was really pissing me more than her fucking attitude was something I wouldn’t admit to myself, let alone to some motherfucking mafia bitch. The unbelievable wild lust that five hundred sit-ups and a hundred pounds of heavy lifting couldn’t shake. The hunger that slammed into me once she thought she could challenge me, and the fucking desire that shot through me during that flicker of a touch… Fuck.
I was supposed to fidget her up with that touch, not the other way around. That buzz that traveled between us had been so unexpected it caught me off guard. Damn, I missed my bike and the club whores that lined up to suck this stupid shit out of me. Since that spiteful bitch I’d made my ol’ lady framed me, sent my ass to the slammer the first time, took my baby boy and left the whole state to whore herself and land a richer motherfucker, I trusted no damn creature with a cunt. And every time I came close to feeling anything, and I meant anything, that could be mistakenly taken for any kind of affection toward a woman, I rode long and fucked hard until none of it was left.
Could you blame me? Fifteen years later, and my ass was shoved behind bars again because of that Delilah bitch. If it wasn’t for my boy, I would have killed the switch on that bitch the second she betrayed me. But I couldn’t do that to my son. He was only three, and the club was a mess. Who would have taken care of him? Delilah was shitty as fuck and had poisoned him with lies that made him hate me till today, but, at least, she took care of him.
And if it wasn’t for my boy, I wouldn’t have dragged my ass to the bitch’s house here, had a word with the fucking husband she’d gotten herself. A spineless motherfucker who beat the shit out of her for sport. I didn’t give a fuck about her, but the second I heard the son of a bitch tried to land a hand on my boy, I got burning acid for blood.
I gave the chicken shit a lesson he wouldn’t forget and a mark that would stay for life, if he managed to get out of the hospital alive. I’d have gotten away with it if that bitch didn’t call the fucking pigs on me. Again.
But here I was, wasting two more years of my life in a fucking can, getting a boner, to a hot, pompous ass teacher of all the people in the world, that would have nothing by my fist to take care of, sharing a yard with slimy worms like Maverick Alfonso, because of that cunt.
And the worst part was my son wouldn’t even talk to me. I’d been sending him letters for four months now, since I got in San Quentin, but I hadn’t received a single reply.
Other than ‘fuck off. I never want to see you or any of your brothers ever again’ he hadn’t said a word to me in fifteen years. He even blamed me for what I did to Delilah’s husband, saying he’d never asked for my help, and that piece of shit was the only dad he’d ever known.
A growl blasted out of my throat as I pushed the weights up and down faster. Maverick—who in their fucking right mind chose a pussy ass name like Maverick to be their street name? Or was it really the name his parents gave him? Shit. No wonder he was such a loser—straightened up, casting a shadow over my head. “Hey, easy. You’re gonna hurt yerself. That bitch gave you an F or what?” He snickered. “Is that what got you all wrathy?”
Bile rose to my throat just listening to the fucker. “No. I just miss fucking your mama’s hairy cunt.”
He snorted a laugh that sounded like a fucking hyena choking. “Nah. Bet it’s another cunt that got your balls in a knot.”
Don’t talk about her cunt. I didn’t know where that came from, but it pissed the shit out of me. I dropped the fucking weights with a bang on the ground and let my sweat drip on that ugly ass for a face of his. “I wish, but it’s your mama’s cunt that I miss so much I’ll pound the first thing that looks like it. Bet your fucking stinky ass will do.”
He flinched, holding his hands up. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just checkin’ if you got something for my boss.”
“When your boss wanted something from me, he came to me direct. He didn’t send a motherfucking worm to sniff around.”
“But you wouldn’t wanna cost him the trip down here only to send him home empty-handed.”
“Tell your boss I’m working on it. This shit takes time.”
“With a pretty motherfucker like you, it shouldn’t take that long. Just sayin’, everybody is talking about how you got a little alone time with the fat back teach. But her sunglasses never left her face, and you were passing notes and shit. Capo won’t like it if he finds out that alone time is for nothing…or worse.”
I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and brought him toward me and squeezed my other hand around his shoulder as if we were having a talk and I wasn’t about to smash the shit out of his face. “The fuck that means?” I practically spat in his ear.
He was shaking. “Did you tip the bitch?”
“Fuck you, dipshit.” I didn’t know what infuriated me more, the fact that he thought I was a rat, stupid enough to warn the oblivious teacher about the danger she was in, out in the open where anyone could see, or that he called her a bitch…and fat back…and mentioned her cunt on his disgusting tongue.
That made me even angrier. I got why I wanted to do wicked things to her all over her desk until she knew how I expected to be treated. But why the fuck would I care if he or any other fucker called her shit or jacked off to her hot ass? It made me want to beat the shit out of something—might as well be that worm—until blood covered us both.
“Just lookin’ out for you, bro. Don’t want you wasting your free out of jail ticket back to H-town.” His disgusting mouth drooled as he burst out in laughter. “See what I did here? Switched card for ticket ’cause that what gets you home and what not. A little creative, don’t you think? Enough to maybe take that fine ass class myself. Then it won’t be so hard to just snatch those sunglasses the bitch is hiding behind and see what color eye she’s got. It’ll be all the proof we need. Ya know, I put ten squares on Irish eyes. Should do the same. Earn a little something on the side ’cause maybe you won’t be getting out of here that soon after all.”
My hand fisted around his shoulder, squeezing until something cracked and he yelped like a little pussy. “First, I’m not your fucking bro. Second, don’t ever fucking think you can threaten me. Third, like I said, your boss came to me for what he wanted, not to a dumbfuck, piece of shit runner like you, even when he owned your ass. So you tell him, if he still wants me digging that juice on the girl, he’ll make as many trips down here as needed to get what he’s looking for ’cause from now on, your little messenger ass is fucking barred. You hear me, bitch? You see me anywhere, you fucking run.” I eased my grip, the fucker shaking like a wet dog, nodding his head. “Starting now.”
He ran to his Mickey Mouse borgata like a scared shitless little girl. I stood, waiting to see if any of his amici was going to come over and start some shit, itching for some action, but all they did was some eyeballing before they took their worm under their wings and left.
