After he was gone, whoever he was, I spent the rest of the day staring at the closed bars, dreading my cellmate’s return. I was prepared to stay up for a week if it meant that I would not wake up tied to my bunk butt-naked and getting violated.

“I have officially hit rock bottom,” I said to my cell, smiling ruefully. Unshed tears prickled at my corners of my eyes.

I regretted saving that woman. I regretted saving her the moment the trigger, whether by my hand or Steven’s I still did not know, was pulled. She was a complete stranger, yet I had thrown away my future and life for her in a foolish act of male bravado and misplaced heroism. And what did I get in return? For my selfless act, I was rewarded with a life sentence without chance of parole.

I rested my back against the bunk’s metal headboard, my eyes still fixated on the cell’s door.

A while after my lunatic cellmate left, I’d risen from my bunk once I’d recovered from the shock and stood in front of the cell’s door, expecting it to slide open for me as well. It didn’t.

Confused, I had waved at a nearby security camera pointed right at this cell, hoping whoever was on the other side would see me and open the door. Still, nothing. I’d looked around at the neighboring cells to find that all inmates were inside. It was not yet roaming time.

How strange, I had thought.

How was it that he was able to get out and the rest of us couldn’t? Did he enjoy privileges that the rest of us didn’t?

And speaking of privileges, how was it that Gerard was able to nearly rape me in fucking prison? Every single one of the guards who had been waiting outside of the inspection room had conveniently made themselves scarce when I went inside the inspection room. Were they in on it too? Had Gerard bribed or convinced them into leaving? Most likely that was the case.

From what I’d seen at the guards’ room and judging by their dismissal of Gerard’s transgression, I concluded with dread that this place was corrupt to the core.

I shuddered to think what would have become of me if Cade hadn’t shown up when he did.

Despite being deeply unsettled, my eyes would drift closed on their own accord every few seconds, exhaustion and fatigue seeping into my system like poison. Of course, I fought the much-needed sleep away, refusing to fall asleep with a possible rapist as my cellmate. The last thing I wanted was to wake up at his mercy –or dead.

But it was a struggle just to keep them open.

I jumped when the sound of a heavy metal door slamming shut somewhere nearby in the vast prison sounded like a gunshot. Heavy footfalls echoed, growing louder as someone approached this cell. Another strange sound accompanied the footsteps that reminded me of the turning of wheels.

With a pounding heart, I jumped off the bunk and stood facing the cell’s door, expecting my cellmate to appear any moment with that same eerie smile. The memory of him overpowering me physically stung to the core.

I reached for a ball pen sitting on the table, uncapped it, and hid it behind my back.

I had promised myself before coming here that I would somehow not allow myself to be belittled and humiliated in this Godforsaken hellhole, that I would be the exception to the rule. So far, I had not kept that promise once.

This time though, I was ready for him. I would not allow him to take me by surprise like the last time.

Fortunately, it was not my cellmate. A man dressed in what I figured was the kitchen staff’s white uniform appeared, pushing along a food trolley. Wordlessly, he pulled out two trays, bent down, slid them inside the cell using a small slot at the bottom of the door, stood up and left.

The breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding whooshed out of my lungs in relief.

When I caught a whiff of hot food, my legs moved toward my meal of their own accord. Only then did I realize just how famished I really was. My stomach growled its appreciation when I picked up my sealed rectangular box-like tray and removed the lid to uncover a gorgeous looking piece of pepper steak, bright yellow mashed potato sitting by its side and a juicy-looking salad with a box of orange juice placed conveniently at the bottom.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.

“No way,” I breathed, stunned.

This wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I’d been expecting suspicious-looking gravy with beans on the side and a small bottle of murky water. Never in my life would I have imagined a gourmet meal in prison.

I wasn’t going to complain though.

Eagerly, I picked up the tray, sat on my bunk and devoured the whole meal in record time. I drank the satisfying meal down with the box of fancy-looking juice that came with it.

Shortly after, the kitchen staff returned with his trolley.

When he saw my empty tray, he gasped and screamed, “What have you done?! That’s the King’s food!”

I blinked. “The who now?”