happen to a man. Like being starved. Deprived of things that most people took for granted—food, water, light, sound, touch.
Honestly, the total chaos that was Huntsville Penitentiary was downright relieving.
The shouting. The yelling. The fights.
In the military prison, there was total silence.
There were no fights. There was no screaming.
Honestly, it was like night and day.
I felt like I could finally breathe again.
Hell, even the man trying to beat the absolute shit out of me was making me feel more alive.
I had a fuckin’ smile on my face when I reared back and punched the little prick that thought I was easy pickings in the face.
The satisfying crunch of his nose breaking made my heart fucking sing.
“All right, boys,” the sweet, feminine voice called from behind me. Her zero-tolerance had my cock stiffening in the stupid pants I was forced to wear. “Break it up before we have to do anything drastic.”
I let the man go that I was holding and whirled.
The man’s body hitting with a satisfying thump didn’t even cause me concern.
What did cause me concern was seeing her in my prison.
The female officer at the speaker’s side flinched, her hand going to the baton at her side.
But the woman that I was currently staring at with narrowed eyes didn’t so much as recoil.
She knew that I wouldn’t hurt her.
Hell, I was in here because of her, after all.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I all but snarled.
Men that I would kill if they harmed one hair on her head.
Did she know the kind of power that she held over me?
I didn’t think she did.
I doubted she knew that all she had to do was point and say ‘kill him’ and I’d do it.
I’d fallen in love with a twenty-one-year-old recruit. I’d fallen in love with her from afar. I’d admired her daring will. Her bravado. Her utter confidence in every single thing that she did.
She would’ve made one hell of a soldier.
The Army could’ve used a woman like her.
If anyone could’ve made it to the top, it would’ve been her.
Only Brees, the POS—piece of shit—had ruined it for her.
I hadn’t seen her in years.
Ages had passed, yet the way I felt about her hadn’t changed.
I still wanted her with a viciousness that might scare her if she knew.
“I work here.” She pointed her finger at me. “What are you doing here?”
I had a feeling she knew exactly why I was there.
I narrowed my eyes. “How long have you worked here?”
She grinned at me, her perfectly white teeth no longer fucked-up from taking a punch straight to the mouth. “A week.”
Exactly the same amount of time that I’d known that I would be coming here.
How convenient.
I gritted my teeth and tried not to allow my eyes to roam.
But that would be like telling water not to flow.
It just wasn’t possible.
My mind and eyes were starved for her.
They hadn’t seen her in so long that just having her in front of me was like getting the first breath of fresh air after being buried alive.
Her long blonde hair was once again up in a bun. I’d never gotten to see it down.
I had a feeling that if I had, I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing it up ever again. So that was probably a good thing.
Her bright blue eyes were intoxicating. I couldn’t look away from the depths.
“You know him?” the other female guard asked, sounding worried.
“I do,” Blaise drawled. “We’re old acquaintances.”
I nearly snorted.
Luckily, I was able to control myself.
Acquaintances my ass. We were never that to each other.
I knew she had no clue that I had the kind of feelings that I had for her. Just like I knew that she didn’t realize that Brees had only taken an interest in her because of me.
A long time ago, in our late twenties, Brees and I had both been awarded the rank of drill sergeant. Me because I’d wanted it. Brees because he’d been forced to do it.
See, all of my brothers had been drill sergeants.
Coke. Jim. Jack. Tom. Bronx. Bellini and Ale—all of whom were either currently a drill sergeant or had been one in the past.
We were all there because we wanted to be.
Brees? Not so much.
He’d hated being forced to do it, and that had left him bitter.
What made him even more bitter was my obvious desire to be exactly where I was at.