Page 70 of Imprisoned

Footsteps approach—my crew. They file in, four of them, faces tight with anticipation.

“Boss, we got everything set.” Snake leans against the wall. “Guards are paid, route’s clear.”

I nod, studying each of their expressions. They’ve been with me for years, followed every order, spilled blood at my command.

“What about us?” Rico asks, voice low. “Some of us want out too.”

The others shift, waiting for my response. I hadn’t planned on bringing anyone else. This was supposed to be just Willow and me—sweet, corrupted Willow, who orchestrates our perfect escape together.

“Two of you,” I say finally. “That’s all we can manage without drawing attention.”

Relief floods some faces, disappointment others. They know better than to argue.

“Who?” Tommy steps forward, hope plain in his eyes.

I scan the group. “I’ll decide. Need to think it through.”

They nod, accepting my word as law. But I see the questions in their eyes. They’re wondering about the doctor, about how she fits into all this.

“What about the shrink?” Dante asks. Always pushing boundaries.

“She’s handled.” My tone leaves no room for discussion.

But he’s right—Willow complicates things. She planned this escape, thinking it would be just us, our twisted fairy tale ending. Adding two more players changes everything.

The crew disperses, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The whispers stir again, suggesting who to bring, who to leave behind, and who might become a liability.

I pace my cell, eight steps each way. Willow’s face floats in my mind—the way she looks at me like I’m something more than a monster. Like I could be saved.

I sink onto my bunk, running my fingers through my damp hair. The adrenaline from the shower block fight fades, leaving space for thoughts of her to creep in.

Willow with her porcelain skin and ocean-deep eyes. Her neck’s elegant curve and delicate hands take such careful notes. How her blonde hair catches the light even under those harsh fluorescents. There’s a fragility to her that makes me want to both protect and possess her completely.

My demons whisper that I’m getting soft, that she’s a means to an end. A way out of this concrete box, but they don’t understand. They can’t feel how quiet my mind becomes when she’s near.

For the first time since I can remember, the chaos in my head settles when I’m with her. No screaming for blood. No urge to tear flesh and break bones. Just... peace.

My hands clench into fists. I hate feeling vulnerable, hate that she’s wormed her way under my skin. I’ve spent years building walls, becoming the monster everyone fears. And this slip of a woman walks right through them like they’re nothing.

She’s making you weak!

They’re wrong. When I’m with her, I’m stronger. More focused. The rage that usually consumes me channels into something else—a need to protect her, to keep her safe. To make her mine in every way possible.

I close my eyes, remembering how she looked during our last session: flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes glazed with pleasure and shame. She’s worried I’m using her, manipulating her feelings to secure my freedom. Maybe I was, at first.

But now? Now, she’s become something else entirely. Something I never thought I’d find in this hellhole. Something I never thought I deserved.

A cure.

The voices rage against this revelation but can’t deny the truth. They fall silent when Willow touches me and moans my name like a prayer. And in that silence, I find something I thought I’d lost forever—my humanity.

31

WILLOW

Ilook up as Thompson enters my office unannounced, his thick frame blocking the doorway. My pulse quickens, but I keep my expression neutral.

“Dr. Matthews, we need to discuss your activities with Morrison.” He pulls out his phone and shows me footage from our sessions.

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