“What the fuck is this place?” I mutter half to myself, catching the attention of a man splayed on the ground.
“Your own personal hell,” he mutters, picking himself up on his elbows. “I’m L.”
His body is covered in bleeding cuts and wounds, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. The man’s pupils are dilated into black orbs, making me wonder if he’s high on something.
“Heath,” I introduce myself.
“Hang on to that name,” the guy mutters. “And all your memories. You might not have them for much longer.”
Frowning, I choose not to question him. He looks like he’s been here a while, and I’m in desperate need of an ally.
Scooting closer to him, I lean down to speak in hushed tones, saying, “I shouldn’t be here.”
“None of us should be here,” the man grits out. “Who are you?”
“I’m the heir of the Scorpion cartel,” I mutter in hushed tones. “My uncle left me for dead.”
“Let me guess, at the docks?”
I nod.
“They get many people from there,” L grunts. “And they don’t give a shit if you’re the Prince of England. Here, we’re all treated the same.”
I don’t need to ask to know that means we’ll all be treated like shit.
“What is this place?” I repeat. “What happens here?”
“Fights.” His dilated eyes meet mine, as if testing me to see my reaction to his answer. “They make us fight other men and sometimes each other. To the death.”
“They can’t do that to me.”
“Why? Because you’re from some influential family?” The man laughs, but the sound of it is bitter. “You’re nothing down here, just like we all are. Just a number, and once you’re dead, you’re nothing more than a body.”
My mouth sets in a thin line just as the cell’s doors open again and a guard approaches me. I pick myself up, groaning from the injuries I’ve sustained. The effects of the drug they pumped me full of are wearing off now, and I’m realizing what I did to the men in that van.
They were my first kills. The first men that died by my hand. As I meet the guard’s stony gaze, I realize they won’t be my last.
“I need to go back home,” I hiss at him. “You can’t keep me here against my will. People will look for me.”
Instead of answering me, the guy shoves his fist into my stomach. I double over from the pain, seeing stars. I try to strike back, but my new friend in the cell holds me back, muttering in my ear to stop.
“They’ll only hurt you worse if you fight them,” he grunts. “Be obedient, at least for now.”
“You’re not going back home,” the guard tells me in heavily accented English. “You were left for dead. Who the fuck do you think is missing you?”
My lips shape the name I haven’t thought of since I’ve been brought here - Rain. As I think of her, the reality of what’s happening sinks in, hitting me like a ton of bricks.
Xavier didn’t just rip my own life away from me, he took Rain. Fuck knows what’s going to happen to her now that he’s in control... I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed her.
“You can’t leave me here to rot,” I roar, wincing at the pain in my side as I force myself back up.
In the way of an answer, the guard tosses a few plastic baggies onto the floor in the cell. The rest of the men throw themselves at it like it’s a sort of lifeline, and the guard smirks before exiting, locking us all back in.
“What the fuck is that shit?” I hiss, pointing to the inmates scrambling to get hold of the white powder in the plastic.
Some of them lick it, others snort it. But they all seem obsessed with the content of those little plastic bags, as if they carry the solution to this predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into.
“It’s drugs,” L mutters. “They feed us that shit instead of food sometimes. You should try to fight for some, too.”
I remember the painful syringe going into my skin and the bloody van attack that followed, shuddering.
“Why?”
“It’ll make it easier to fight,” L says. “Easier to kill your friends in here. It’s the only way to survive.”
As I watch the other men use up the white powder, reality sinks in and a feeling of dread settles in my stomach.
I can’t sleep.
The two bunk beds in the room have been occupied, so I’m lying on the cold, hard floor, with nothing to cover me. My mind is racing and all I can think about is Rain.
Does she know what’s happened to me yet? Probably not. She’ll only realize something’s wrong when my next letter doesn’t arrive... unless Xavier kills her before then. I wouldn’t put it past him.
My hands form fists and I slam them into the floor. I want to protect Rain and her Nana, but there’s nothing I can do from inside this prison. My blood boils at the thought of my uncle and what he’s done. But I know I’ll get out of here.