Page 26 of Birdy

Right now, it’s Santi. God, he was yummy. Dominican, curly locks I could run my fingers through, gym rat, a thick dick. That man used to throw me around like a rag doll and tie me up. Breath play with him was the best, too. Just thinking about it has those sparks shooting up my spine like a flame burning through the cordage of a bomb.

A distant click meets my ears.

Then that annoying buzzer.

And then…Slam!

The door to my cell flies open. “Ladies, wake up! It’s sweep time!”

“What the fuck!” I’m yanking my hand from under my nightshirt at the same moment Lena’s snoring abruptly stops.

Mack, the head guardcomemierda,squats to peer right at me and says, “In the hall,now, Villanueva. Night-night time’s over. We’re sweeping.”

I don’t get another word. He’s reaching for me and yanking me out of bed. Selena’s pulled down right behind me. We’re shoved toward the door lightly in warning, sounds of similar protests breaking out from other cells.

Another day of this shit.

“It’s too early for this,” I mutter, dragging my socked feet into the hall.

“Hear that boys?” Mack shouts amusedly behind me. “Miss Villanueva here seems to think, and I quote, ‘it’s too early for this shit.’”

“Does she?” That’s Jordan—juicer, playboy, wannabe bodybuilder—aka the STD-infested little bitch on roids.

He fucking wishes he was a bodybuilder.

“Her exact words. She’s not wrong, really. Kind of ridiculous we have to sweep at this hour, to begin with. Shall we tell them why?”

Another shove.

My back hits the gray bricks beside the door, and again, Selena’s right behind me, glaring daggers at Mack as he nods at his colleague. One by one, everyone else on our block assumes the same position, questioning—and irate—sleepy eyes bouncing around the room.

Jordan makes a show of clearing his throat and reaches into his pocket. “Seems one of you left this…,” he lifts a powder-filled baggy into the air, “…in the bathroom. Not sure how exactly you little b—”

That obnoxious buzzer rents the air once more, drowning roid boy out in an instant. All attention drifts to the now open gate and the man stalking through. At a first distant glance, it’s clear he’s a CO based on the uniform, but he’s not one I’ve seen here before. Tall, broad shoulders, tree trunks for arms nearly busting the seams of his navy-blue shirt.

Wonderful, another juiceris all I can think to myself. Until he comes closer into view, and my jaw nearly hits the floor.

That face.

That fine-as-hell baby face. Dark hair, dark eyes, cheekbones that promise dimples. Squared jaw—check. Plush lips—check.

Holy fuck.

“CO Bala, right?” Mack questions.

The man tips his dark head. “Yes, sir.”

Mack hums, low enough, I’m sure only Selena and I can hear as he snaps his gloves in place. “I wasn’t aware you’d be coming in today, but nonetheless, welcome. We’re just in the middle of a sweep if you want to wait for us in the office over there.” He points to the bulletproof room a short ways away, an action the new CO follows.

“Do you need some help?”

“Nah, it’s your first day, don’t worry about it. Besides, we have a specific method around here which you’ll likely need to be trained for.”

Bala seems confused but offers Mack another nod. “Sounds good. I’ll head to the office while you finish up.”

“Actually, you know what?” Mack blurts just as he turns on his heel. “Can you keep an eye on them while we finish turning everything out?”

The new CO pivots back around, his expression completely even. “Sure, no problem.”

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