Page 27 of Raven

"Well, listen to this. Aren't they all just making their demands tonight? Him with his patrol issues, and you with your sandwich," Earl mocked.

"I'm starving. I was about to grab a kebab when this fucker grabbed me," Deek complained, his words slurred and clumsy.

Earl tossed his paperwork into a tray. "I'll get your sandwich sent down, but don't give me any shit tonight, I swear to God. One peep out of you, and I'll put the big guy in with you. Maybe he'll give you a blow job of his own, eh?"

They pushed Deek to stand close to me. He wasn't so close that I could reach him, but there was little I could do. His cuffs had been removed.

He stepped closer. "What the fuck are you looking at?" Deek tried to provoke me, acting tough because I was chained up. I let my top lip curl back, just enough to let him see the tips of my panther’s teeth. I couldn't fully shift, but I could show enough to make a point. "Back off."

"Are you going to be a problem?" Earl sneered at me, his voice laden with challenge. "Here." He tossed a Styrofoam cup at me with a smirk. It hit me in the chest, splashing the remnants of its contents across my shirt before landing at my feet. He waited, eyes narrowed, observing my every move. Deek watched with a cruel amusement in his gaze.

I ground my jaw and picked up the cup, my movements stiff with restrained fury.

Deek laughed mockingly. "That's it, fucker. You're our little janitor now. Oh, wait, wait," he sneered, pausing for effect. "I gotta take a piss." No one stopped him as he clumsily unzipped his pants and exposed himself, aiming right at my feet and urinating with a disgusting grin.

I snarled, the primal side of me, my panther, slamming against my control. Perhaps too forcefully, as the collar around my neck tightened, and I choked out a gasp, dropping to my knees. I couldn’t even claw at the collar to gain some relief. My reaction only fuelled their laughter, their mockery echoing off the cold, uncaring walls.

They escorted him out shortly after. He wasn't the only human to parade through there that night, but he was the only one who dared to provoke me to that extent. I remained standing for what felt like an eternity, as one human after another was brought in.

"Are you just going to leave me here?" I asked, my voice a low growl of desperation.

Earl ignored me.

I took a deep, ragged breath. "I have rights, you know. No matter what you believe."

That got his attention, but only momentarily. He looked at me, his expression unreadable, then raised an eyebrow and stared. "I believe you forfeited your rights when you decided to assault some poor kids. Now, I told you. Silence. I'm not finished yet." He lounged back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankles, feet propped up on his desk, embodying the arrogance of unchecked power.

By the time Earl finally decided to deal with me, my legs ached, my ankles and wrists burnt unbearably. The pain seared up my arms and into my shoulders—an army of fiery ants burrowing into my very bones.

When he came for me, he didn’t bother to remove the cuffs. Instead, he yanked on the chain that connected them, pulling it so tight it cut into my flesh even more. I hissed in pain, and Earl laughed.

"Stand there. Make one move, and I'll make sure you'll wish it was only your wrists that hurt."

He positioned me in front of the desk where he'd been working and walked around to the other side, where he sat down and began pulling up my information on the screen. With just two clicks, he deleted it. "Name," he demanded, his voice cold.

"You had my name. It was right there."

His glare intensified. "Sure, it was, and now it's gone. Name. Or would you prefer to stand back over there until I'm ready to deal with this? Because you're really testing my patience."

I ground my jaw, which seemed to be the only thing I'd been doing all night, and gave him my name, followed by everything they had already filled in when I first came in.

"There," he said, his eyebrow arching. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"It was totally unnecessary."

"Sure, like all of your kind," he muttered, standing up. He opened a cabinet behind him that resembled those in hotels with room keys. "You're in luck. You get room six."

"Jake?" Earl called out.

Jake glanced up from his screen, where he was munching on a packet of crisps now, part of a stack they’d brought in for everyone else but me.

"Get someone else to handle him. I'm not dealing with that mess," Jake said, his voice cold and dismissive.

"I don't need you to handle him. Just watch the desk for me, idiot," Earl snapped. He grabbed my chain, yanking it so hard that pain shot through me like ice picks, threatening to tear apart my soul. I nearly passed out from the pain.

He didn't give me a chance to recover, or catch my breath. He led me out of the room where I'd been standing for hours, through a door, and down a corridor that descended into darkness. The steps were damp and shadowy, more like descending into a basement than a cell block. I liked the smell—damp and earthy. It reminded me of running through the mud and water on dark, rainy nights. It felt like home. The smell in that basement was strangely comforting, speaking to a deep part of me.

We reached the door at the end, and he unlocked it. Then we moved to the end where there was a typical cell door—bars and a large lock. The gate squealed open when he pulled it. "Get in," he ordered.

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