Prologue
Bradley
The prison uniform came off slower than I expected.
I’d imagined it happening in one motion, ripping it off like a dirty band-aid, tossing it into a corner, maybe flipping it the bird for good measure.But in reality, I stood there for a solid minute, staring at it like it might bite me.
Tan, shapeless, paper-thin.Faded letters on the chest.Elastic waistband that always dug into my hips.I had worn that uniform for 872 days.Slept in it.Ate in it.Fought in it.Got groped in it.
It was the ugliest thing I’ve ever worn, and the most familiar.
I stood in front of the bunk, barefoot on cold concrete, stripped down to my boxers.White, regulation issue, practically see-through.My release clothes were folded neatly on the top bunk.The hoodie still smelled faintly like my old laundry detergent, clean linen and something citrusy I couldn’t name.The jeans looked smaller than I remembered.Or maybe I’d gotten bigger in here.Hard to tell with prison food and a near-constant fight-or-flight response.
The morning was quiet.Too quiet.
No yelling down the tier.No shouts of “Freebird!”or banging on cell bars.I’d expected something more dramatic for my last few minutes, but all I got was the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional cough from two cells down.
My cellmate, Marvin, was lying on the lower bunk like a corpse at peace.Arms behind his head.Ankles crossed.He watched me with that same dumb grin he’d worn since the day they assigned me to this cell.
“Damn,” he finally said, breaking the silence.“Gonna miss that view.”
I didn’t respond.I was too busy trying to get my jeans over my thighs.
Two years of squats and stress had apparently turned my legs into tree trunks.The denim resisted with every inch, and I muttered curses under my breath as I tugged.
Marvin didn’t move.Just laid there, eye level with my crotch.
“Shit’s poetic,” he said.“Like watching a Greek statue get dressed.If that statue had a criminal record and a really punchable resting face.”
I yanked the waistband up in one sharp motion, zipping fast.“Could you not talk to me while I’m trying to reclaim my humanity?”
“Don’t be like that, Brad.I’m feeling sentimental.”
“You don’t have feelings.”
He tilted his head.“Sure I do.Right now, I’m feeling mildly horny and devastated by loss.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a migraine.I grabbed my socks next, sitting down on the metal desk chair bolted to the floor.The concrete was biting through the soles of my feet, and my toes were freezing.
“Jesus,” Marvin muttered.“I swear I’m not gonna see a bulge like that again in my lifetime.”
“Marvin…” I warned.
“Like, thick and long?It’s rare.You’re like a unicorn.A dick unicorn.”
“I’m leaving in five minutes.Can you at least pretend we were normal cellmates?”
“We weren’t,” he said, smiling.“We were cellmates with benefits.”
“That’s an extremely generous way of viewing things.”
He shifted on the mattress below, one elbow propped up now, body angling a bit closer.I stood and reached for my shirt on the top bunk.I felt Marvin move before I actually saw it.His hand shot out fast from the side of the bottom bunk.He cupped me right between the legs like it was muscle memory.
My whole body flinched like I’d touched an electric fence.
“What the fuck, Marvin?!”I stumbled back, hitting the concrete wall behind me.
Marvin just grinned wider and rested his hand back under his head.“C’mon.Just one last goodbye handsy.For old time’s sake.I’m grieving, man.”
