Fragments (Alabaster Penitentiary, #4)

by Nyla K.

I want the pain… I need the release. Slashing again and again with the paper, I mark myself up with little bullshit cuts, whimpering as I go. You deserve this. Just like Gage holding you down and raw fucking you to pieces… Because you deserve to hurt. To be degraded, ripped apart, and left for dead. It’s all you have to offer.

:'(

He makes me nervous. He always has, and I’ve never been able to understand why.

The way I see it, if you’re going to be a villain, you might as well be the smartest one.

It’s fucked up. I should at least try to pop in and let them know I’m alright, but it’s really easy to lose track of time when you’re digging for skeletons in government files like some sort of online grave robber.

It’s not like I meant to see it… I didn’t take pictures to send to foreign enemies or anything. I just wanted to find out about government-funded human sex trafficking… Not launch codes for biochemical warfare, nuclear missile targets, a dossier on JFK’s assassination, and what looked like some kind of intergalactic trade agreement… Jesus fucking Christ. It’s all in my head now. That means I’m a threat… I’m public enemy number one. Me… an eighteen-year-old virgin, who’s clearly too smart for his own good.

They treat me like I’m some queer spider, luring them into my web of gayness. As if they weren’t fully aware that they liked to fuck men before I came along.

I don’t need the specifics. I just show up each night ready to get torn to shreds, then collect an envelope full of cash at the end of the week. This job fulfills me, sates my need to for release in the form of decent orgasms, and the spectacular pain that I deserve.

Some of these parts will be easier to track down than others. Honestly, I’m not sure how I’m going to get this stuff, but it’s something to do. And if I could actually make this, in prison…Well, wouldn’t that just be the ultimate test to my abilities?

So, there you have it. I’ve made it almost a year without succumbing to the sexual pressures of Alabaster Pen by being the resident IT guy.

We’re shuffling through the doorway to our row of cells while my stomach twists like a pretzel. Alright, so… This might be bad. The new guy has a crush on me. I swallow. It’s no big deal. I’m flattered. And objectively, he is very good-looking. I mean, almost too good-looking, which I didn’t know was possible. But I’m not interested in guys, so it doesn’t matter. He’ll have to stick with just friends.

Lexington is sexy as hell, and sweet, and smart. Funny, loyal, very introspective. He’s shy and kind-hearted and three years younger than me, meaning he is exactly the opposite of every guy I’ve ever hooked up with in my life. And I’m fucking obsessed.

I mean, Alabaster Penitentiary is worse than death for a lot of people, but to me, it’s not. Because on my first day here, I met some cool people, who have been my friends ever since. And one of them is a drop-dead gorgeous hacker with the sweetest looking pink lips I’ve ever seen.

Straight guys don’t cuddle with their gay friends… I’m not positive about this, but I’m pretty sure.

The man I’ve been crushing on for over a year is actually a virgin, and it just makes me like him a million times more. Because now, more than ever, I can see how infinitely different we are. He’s never had sex. Ever. Not once. And I’ve had enough sex that if orgasms were electricity, I could power all of New York City Proper for years.

I can’t believe I’ve actually found this… Someone who truly cares about me. Someone who wants me, for who I am. He’s saying no to sex because he wants to keep me?? That doesn’t even make sense… No one has ever wanted Ren the person before. It’s so overwhelming, that for a second of pure terror, I feel like I’m falling.

I’ve been fucked hundreds of times over, by some of the biggest dicks, attached to the most confident men who know how to use them. And yet this, Lexington Deon fingering me while he kisses my neck and humps my leg, is a pleasure so insurmountable, it’s about to have me erupting harder than any of those dime-store fuckboys ever could.

“Promise?” Leaning in, I swipe his mouth with my finger, breathing the lie over that sweet spot. “Promise.”

Oh no

I will not relapse on my fuckboy best friend.

“Did you plan this? I mean, is this why you brought me in here… to fool around?” I grab his hand in mine, placing his palm flat over my heart. “I didn’t plan it, Lex. Because I am trying to be your friend. But I’m also trying not to lie to you… Being able to kiss you and touch you and do all the amazing, dirty things we should be doing together makes me insanely happy. I’m not manipulating you, and I’m not trying to coerce you into something. I just really miss the fuck out of you, every minute of every day. That’s it, love. That’s the truth. Do with that information what you will. But just know, every moment I’m with you… is fireworks over the ocean.”

Did I really just drop the L bomb while he’s eating my ass?? Classic virgin behavior.

But even though I’ve left the scene, it’s still all I can see. It’s been burned permanently into my brain… Ren’s body… belonging to everyone but me.

If you’re looking to avoid gay drama, you came to the wrong prison,

I know I should probably just shut up and eat my food, or move to another table. But I can’t do that. Not with him right here, in front of me. It doesn’t matter that I hurt him… I mean, it does, but in the grand scheme, it doesn’t. I’d sit here and let him throw rocks at my head for all eternity if it meant that I get to be in the same room as him.

“I’m sorry, Lexington… I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.” “Please,” he scoffs. “Even when you’re here, you’re not here.” Ouch.

I think he knows damn well I’m never going to stop trying. I’m way too stubborn and obsessive. And he’d never admit it, but I think he likes being chased.

I sidle up to the new guy and murmur a threat that I’m sure will be the first of many. “If you touch him, ever, in any way… I’ll kill you slow, and painful.”

The thing is, when we’re deep in the thick haze of a lust so strong it can only be described as chemical, it feels like the greatest thing ever. I know I don’t have much frame of reference, but fooling around with Ren is satisfying on a molecular level. Like we’re supposed to be doing it; tangling together to make vital elements.

Ren? Did Ren talk Velle into letting me keep my stuff?? How would he even manage something like that? My stomach clenches so tight, I think I might puke. There’s only one kind of deal Ren makes… And if that’s what he’s offering Velle for me to keep my stuff, then I don’t fucking want it. I’ll gladly throw it all away right now. Nothing is worth that much. Not to me.

Velle and Ren have a history… Maybe he’s looking for some relief from the stress of his treacherous life at The Ivory’s helm, and decided to get it between Ren’s legs. The thought makes me so dizzy I feel like I might fall down.

I can’t even fucking do this anymore, man. I’m losing it. Friends don’t obsess this much about who their friends are fucking. It’s totally unhealthy. And I can act like I’m ignoring it all I want, but I think we all know I’m not.

“Because I want to do everything in my power to make you happy… even when you hate me and refuse to look at me. I want to be next to you all the time… Just breathing the same air as you. I want to hold your hand and kiss your neck, and I want you to want me to… more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I feel like I could slaughter anyone who causes you pain, including myself. It’s so unbearably fucked up, but I would open a vein and bleed just to make you smile… That has to mean I’m in love with you… Right?”

“I want…” My broken thought fades off when I shove his pants and boxers down. “Take it,” he purrs, kicking them off the rest of the way. “It’s yours. Everything I have is all yours, Lexington.”

“I wanna fuck you, Ren. I’ve wanted to fuck you for years, and I’ve never felt like that for anyone else before.”

Our hearts beat together at the same pace. We’re finally synchronized, on the exact same wavelength. For the first time in years, after all the chasing, slowing down and speeding up, we finally made it. We’re here, in unbreakable love.

I don’t know what it means, exactly… Surviving something so insane. Escaping prison only to almost drown, then still managing to make it across the country to find that the love of my life is also alive, and has been in my hometown waiting for me. It’s the ultimate improbability.

The universe, or God—maybe they’re the same thing—must want me here. Which is a good thing, because I have no interest in leaving.

“Leave it to you to escape prison and come all the way across the country just to break into my house and steal my clothes. You’re such a stalker.”