Page 7 of His Wicked Revenge

His stare was hot, and it felt like he was trying to burn my skin off. I kept my eyes down the whole ride, not sparing him a glance.

There was no way I could handle a conversation with this man anyway. Not with the pure terror that I was feeling about being transported to prison. Never in my life did I think I would be in this situation, and yet, here I am. My stomach was rolling with nausea, and I believed that at any moment, I would throw up.

When I first arrived at the facility after I was healed, I was stripped down and had a cavity search done. And here I thought being walked out of the hospital in front of others was humiliating. Once they cleared me, they handed me a navy blue jumpsuit.

Thank God it wasn’t the bright orange ones you see in movies.

Or the black and white stripes, but I think those might be dramatized for the screen.

All the other inmates couldn’t take their eyes off me when I was ushered through the halls and shown to my cell—a cell that I had to share with a very old man.

As I entered the tiny space, I took in the bunks, metal toilet, and sink. The old guy was sitting on the bottom bunk, meaning I had the honor of sleeping on the top.

I swallowed hard and fought the tears that were pricking my eyes. I couldn’t show weakness. Not in prison, of all places. I did this to myself, and now I have to deal with the consequences.

I’ve learned that my cellmate’s name is Walter, and he is serving life. I didn’t find this out from the source himself because the man doesn’t talk. No one has ever heard him speak. I’m unsure if he physically can’t talk or if it’s a choice.

When I first met him, we had a stare-down. He had this mean mug on his face, trying to intimidate me. The intimidation was working on the inside. I felt scared and vulnerable under his heated gaze, but I remained calm and unwavering from what he could see. It lasted a minute until his face softened, and he gave me a slight nod of approval.

I found the information on Walter from another inmate, Reed. He sleeps in the cell next to mine and has been friendly to me ever since I arrived, which is surprising considering he got locked up on charges of manslaughter.

There are rumors about why Walter was sent here, but no one knows if they are true or not. All the inmates leave the old man alone, whether it is because he is so quiet or people just fear him because of said rumors.

Some inmates say that Walter was some hitman who finally got caught when a job went wrong. Others say he was some big drug lord and was set up to be caught. There is no way to know if any of this is true. All I know is that having him as my cellmate might be handy.

Walter sits with me at mealtimes, and although I didn’t invite him, Reed took it upon himself to join us. Reed is a talker. He doesn’t know when to shut up. I remain calm on the outside, but on the inside, I want to punch him in the mouth to make him stop talking. Walter doesn’t seem to mind; I think it’s because he ignores Reed.

In my short time here, I’ve chosen to be more like Walter. Keep to myself; that is, whenever Reed isn’t talking my ear off. I don’t speak to any other inmates, even though some have come up to me to ask what I was in for.

What the hell am I even supposed to tell them? I fell in love with my sociopath patient and was dumb enough to believe that we could run away and have a life together.

Yeah, right.

I make up some petty shit—the type of crime that won’t get your ass beat or have the guys pick on you. When I lie to them, they believe me but roll their eyes because they thought maybe I did something that would earn me rank in their crew.

I’ll pass on that. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to serve my punishment and devise a revenge plan for Veronica.

God, just thinking about her makes my blood boil. I still can’t believe she did what she did. All the memories that we had together in my office or in my room, all the words she said to me… they were all lies. Every single moment spent with her was part of her scheme to get out of the asylum.

And I was stupid enough to fall for it.

I was stupid enough to fall for her.

“Uh, Leo… you good?” Reed’s voice filters through my ears.

When I snap out of my daze and glance at him, he is wearing a concerned expression. His brown eyes drop from mine to my hand.

I look down to I see that my fist is clenched tightly around the plastic fork. My knuckles are white.

Loosening my grip, I set the utensil down and say, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You were, like, one second away from breaking that, and I would have been impressed.”

Of course, he would have been. The utensils here are made from an unbreakable plastic that are specifically designed for facilities like this.

“I said I’m fine,” I snap, not meaning to, but the anger for Veronica is still simmering at the surface.

“If you say so.” Reed sighs and picks up a soggy French fry. “What’s got you in a tizzy?”