Joyless (Alabaster Penitentiary #2)

by Nyla K.

“The martyr cannot be dishonored. Every lash inflicted is a tongue of fame; every prison a more illustrious abode.”

I’m John Chevelle, Head Correctional Officer of Alabaster Penitentiary. And simply put, I fucking own this place.

He looks good leaving… They always do, which is why I’m not supposed to want guys like him anymore. It’s always me standing around alone in the end.

“You’ll come to me, Velle… I know you will. And when you do, I’ll give you everything.”

“Naturally, he’s beside himself,” he keeps speaking. “Grieving and in need of something a bit more… final for this young man than regular prison. So here we are.” He pauses once more, and I glance at Velle. His eyes don’t leave the Warden. “The subject in question’s name is Dascha Reznikov.” Movement catches my eye and in my peripheral, I see Kemper’s fingers twitching at his sides. “Officer Chevelle will get the file and share any needed information with you all,” the Warden says. “Apparently, the kid’s been robbing banks all over the state for years, but this is the first known murder. He was arrested a few hours ago, so he’ll be to us in a few more. Public phase. And remember, this boy is dangerous.” The Warden’s eyes seem to be zeroing in on a very fidgety Kemper. “He’s unstable, and not only that, he has pissed off the wrong person. He is to be treated as a high-profile inmate.”

I yank him along, through the corridor leading to the East wing. And unlike pretty much every other inmate, Darcey stays completely silent. He rarely ever asks questions when we cart him around. He usually just checks out his surroundings, observing. He’s an oddball, to say the least. But then I guess most serial murderers are, especially the ones who take a switchblade to the faces of their victims post-mortem.

“Take control of me, Harley,” I beg with my eyes and breathy tone. “Inside this room only, you’re in charge. Do whatever you want with me… please. I’m yours.”

“I’ve never done this before.” He peeks back up. “Obviously.” “A-are you gonna… lick me?” My breathing is truly out of control. “No.” He bites his lip. “I’m gonna eat you alive.”

I love it. I love the possessiveness in his actions. I love how dirty and depraved he is. I love how he keeps that part of himself a secret, too. We’re sort of the same, him and me. On the outside, he’s a sweet, golden-haired cowboy with dimples like canyons, but behind closed doors, he’s a kinky beast.

“I like you,” he whispers in my ear, pressing a kiss just beneath it. “Seriously, Velle… that was amazing, but being close to you like this is what’s doing it.” He pauses, breaths tickling as his lips brush my ear. “You’re like a rollercoaster, baby. Scary as fuck, but just the best shot of adrenaline.”

“Why does she get to touch you?” Velle murmurs, “Because she keeps me standing… But you make me fall.”

Remember that whole thing I said about how being in love makes you stupid? Well, color us all the perfect shade of moron.

You’re a fuckin unicorn, John Chevelle.” That gets a small laugh out of him. “I’m a mystical, sparkly rainbow creature?” I snort into his neck, licking and biting him until he shivers. “Yes. That’s exactly what you are.” “Watch it, cowboy,” he threatens, though his voice flutters in his arousal; his need. “You forget I can fully kick your ass.” “And I can make you come from spanking yours.” My lips move on the flesh of his throat, taking in that succulent scent of his. “So, I’m more powerful.”

“You’re my greatest weakness…” he tells me with wonder in his tone. “But I think I want it. Knowing you’ll catch me makes me want to fall.” My hands come up to hold his jaw, keeping his mouth over mine. “I will always catch you, Jonathan Chevelle.”

“John.” I hold the nape of his neck. “I promise you, when you fall to your knees for me, I’ll always pick you back up. And I have no problem kneeling for you in return. Because I love you. I’ll never take from you without giving in right back. We can let go… together.”

“Now, let’s be clear. I’m not proposing a rebellion,” I cut in. “Yet. Right now, we need to stay vigilant. He won’t touch another one of our men. He won’t abuse us, but make no mistake, there’s always a calm right before the worst storms. We need to stick together. Play the game. Work, and work smart. And when the time comes, sure… we may need to go to war.” I pause to let this sink in. “I need you all to be ready for a bloodbath. But know this… throughout it all, no matter what comes next, I’ve got your backs. Each and every one of you. And in the end, he’ll find out the hard way… He tested the wrong motherfuckers.” Everyone shouts, Sir, yes sir! I grin wickedly at them as my head cocks. “Mmm… yea. He should’ve caged us when he had the chance.”

After all, it’s not living unless you do it dangerously. My reckless boy motto.

My brass knuckles. My thumb brushes over the finger-holes and I notice a small spot of very old dried blood I must have missed when cleaning them off all those years ago… Slipping my fingers through, it’s a perfect fit. I feel like Cinderella in her goddamn glass slipper. My mouth quirks again, devious grin widening as I hold up my weapon. And for some sick, twisted reason, I find myself muttering, “Daddy’s home.”

He’s still a fucking nuisance, I swear to God. And seriously, one half of the love of my life. Him and Rook together make up the best human being ever invented, though separately they’re also pretty fucking awesome. And I’m just the lucky girl who gets to rock with them. I won’t tell you it’s easy. Velle and I are super similar, and we’re both relationship stunted, which means Harley has his work cut out for him. Fortunately for us, he’s a good enough man that he can make this thruple happen for the three of us. He’s patient, understanding, sweet when he needs to be and dominating as fuck every other moment, reminding us that just because he likes to smile and laugh and cuddle, doesn’t mean he won’t spank the shit out of us if deemed necessary.

“What’s wrong, Lucky? Stressed?” “No. I’m not stressed,” he barks. “I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents in an hour and I can’t figure out what the fuck to wear because I’m the first guy he’s ever dated and they’re going to expect a certain level of queer. And everything I own that isn’t a uniform or gray sweatpants is too emo boy. I’m trying to impress them, not invite them to Warped Tour.”

I’ve been dreading the look on his face as he tries to figure out how on Earth his son is in a relationship with someone like John Chevelle. Uh, because he’s fuckhot and his dick is pierced, Dad. Good enough?

“Look, stop being a whiny bitch.” Joy sighs, shoving a shirt at him. “Just be yourself. What are you… scared? You’re like the most intimidating person on earth. If they have shit to talk, they’ll just do it behind your back, like any regular family. So buck the fuck up, get dressed, and come take a shot with me… ‘Cause I’m sorta nervous, too.”

Velle squeezes her tighter. “Don’t worry, Cherry-bomb. They’ll loveeee you.” “Fuck off,” she grunts, though she melts into our embraces, and the three of us end up swaying to the rest of the song. The world is such a better place with them as mine.

“Stop saying lovely,” I growl at them quietly as we walk. “I can’t help it.” Velle shakes out his hands. “I get murdery when I’m nervous.”

This place is a form of Hell, sure. It was made to be nothing more. Thing is, even Hell needs someone wicked to guard the damned. And when you’re surrounded by fire and brimstone, you gotta ask yourself… what’s the good without a little evil? Is it The End… Or just the beginning?

I just have to say that every single point in this series is carefully planned out. In this book especially, there are little details scattered all around that will tie into the rest of the series. Each move I make, from the covers, to the story design, to even teasers… Literally everything has meaning. Some of it won’t make sense right away, but I assure you it will eventually. Nothing is by accident. A storm is on the horizon…