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“You think you could avoid me forever, bitch?”
“Look man, I’m just here to do my time. I’m not trying to be in anyone’s gang.” Llew slung back at the big bastard that had been harassing him to join his gang for the past ten months. Llew didn’t want a gang, especially Damon’s. He didn’t want friends. Ace had flaunted his wealth and power at him, but he still didn’t want a goddamn thing but for eight years to go by as quickly as possible.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want. But you are gonna give me what I want.” The man sneered. His bald head glistened from the constant sweat that seemed to cling to his massive body. “I could use a hot rapist like you on my team. A few of my guys have a problem with using that type of force.” Damon released an indignant snort. “But obviously, you don’t.”
“I’m not a rap—” Before Llew could finish his sentence, one of Damon minions took him out from behind. Hitting him in the back of the neck with a fist that felt like it was made of stone.
“Yeah. And I’m not a murdering psycho. We’re all goddamn Mormons in here.” Damon sneered, crouching down where Llew knelt holding the back of his head. Everyone knew Damon was serving a life without parole sentence for murdering his boss and his boss’ family for firing him two days before Christmas. The stories Llew heard about the man had him hiding from Damon in every way he could, but he’d known it was only a matter of time before Damon became more forceful and more violent towards him. Why not? The man had absolutely nothing to lose. “Now, what’s it gonna be handsome? You with us or what?”
If Llew joined Damon’s crew, he could forget about getting out on good behavior. He’d always be knee deep in shit and probably spend half his time in solitary for getting busted doing the shit work Damon would insist he do. He got up on his knees, his face contorted with pain and anger. “Fuck you. My answer is still no.”
“Ace! Ace!” he screamed. Nothing. No one came.
His predator slammed his fat hand over Llew’s mouth so hard he thought he may have knocked a tooth out. Damon narrowed his eyes in anger. “You stupid bastard, you can use this cock to rape a fucking boy, but you can’t put it to good use in here.” Damon looked up at the three men behind him and barked a simple three-word order that had Llew wanting to continue to scream uselessly for help.
“Hold him down.”
Llew jerked awake, clutching his balls. He tried to control his urge to vomit. He could still clearly remember the insurmountable pain he’d felt when three men stomped his groin until he’d passed out. He’d woken two days later in the infirmary, wishing he was dead. While there hadn’t been any permanent damage, the fractured pelvis was the most excruciating pain he’d ever felt.
Even months after he’d healed, he still hadn’t been able to obtain an erection. His counselor explained to him that being called a rapist and trying to be forced into raping other inmates while being assaulted in the groin had done him serious psychological damage. Like Llew recognized his cock as being the cause of all of his turmoil. So his mind was blocking his ability to use it. It all sounded like a bunch of crazy, psychoanalytic bullshit to him, but Dr. Jackson said he could help him, and eventually Llew had learned to trust him and Ace’s crew.
He groaned, getting up from the floor. He still hadn’t been able to sleep in his bed, the firmness of the floor more like normal to him than that weird foam thing. His back was drenched with sweat and his balls ached from his clutching of them. The flashback dream was just as real as when it’d happened. Get out of my fuckin’ head. He propped himself up against the small dresser that sat along the opposite wall and stared out at the dark sky. In a few hours, he’d be leaving for a new town; new start, and hopefully a new beginning. His probation officer was coming at nine to bring him the relocation request forms, and of course, the goddamn sex offender registration, since he had to register in any city he would ever reside in. It would be public knowledge, but how many people checked that list anyway? Although he hated to leave Leslie, he was actually pretty excited about going someplace where people hadn’t already labeled him. Here, he couldn’t even pump gas without the authorities swarming in and throwing him against the hood of a car. But most of all; he never wanted to see Moss McGregor the sixth again.
