To be Pretty in Prison

16

Short one for you all! I will only be updating this book until it's complete :)

Things get a little bit more explicit than they have been in previous chapters but let's face it we all saw that coming.

Enjoy!

Waking was a tough process. I felt as though I'd been sleeping for years. My body felt weak from the disuse, my brain was disorientated and my mouth felt painfully dry.

"So Sleeping beauty finally decided to Grace us with his consciousness. Go tell the boss his Sparky is awake."

The feeling of being watched dawned on me and the unmistakeable voice sunk my wounded heart.

"Stephen." I rasped, bright lights offering a crude awakening. I slammed my eyes shut against the stabbing pain through my head. "The one and only. Curly says it's normal to feel nauseous for a few hours since stopping the sedation. Your clothes are on the side there."

After squinting painfully in the direction of the voice I was finally able to see through stuffy eyes but too late, I was alone. I tried to make sense of it; where I was; why Stevie was there; why I felt like utter crap.

I pulled in a couple of deep breaths through my nose and groaned in pain when I shifted my leg beneath the sheets. "Fuck." I husked through a dry throat when not only did the movement send shooting pains up my prosthetic, it also prompted a bout of nauseousness from my head right down to the pit of my stomach, causing it to flip threateningly.

There was nothing more I could do other than accept my immobility for the time being, and wonder to myself, if officer mulhern was here, it was likely I'd been knocked out and left for dead— picked up by the police and taken back to prison. The comfortable bed could be explained by being taken to the hospital again. But the more my eyes adjusted, the more I realised this room looked nothing like any hospital I had ever been in. As my mind finally reached functioning level I realised it was because I wasnt in hospital.

I wasn't in prison either. The Room was quite small but it was modern, likely a new build, the theme was a tasteful white and deep blue, lights highlighting the 3D edges but making it impossible to see what lay beyond the massive floor to ceiling windows.

The Room was deliberately dimly lit, casting a warm atmospheric feeling over everything. Some serious money had been spent on the room, but certainly not for me, I didn't feel welcome. I had clothes folded on an ottoman at the end of the bed which I pulled on.

Still not prison scrubs, just a pair of smart black trousers, a light blue shirt and white shoes in my size. All from expensive tailored brands I couldn't even pronounce. I was confused but my drugged mind couldn't piece together a valid reason. The best I came up with, and the explanation for all this I settled on, was that I was still stuck in a coma, existing in a state of purgatory and that's why Stephen was there. Not just my guard in prison but in my mind too.

This delusion only survived the short journey up a narrow flight of stairs at the end of the long corridor, but as soon as I approached the outdoors, I could hear and feel the vibrations of music pounding through whatever building we were in.

I struggled, but managed to lug my stiff leg up the final step, to emerge out onto the deck of a massive yacht. One bigger than I'd ever seen.