I blow out a puff of smoke. “You don’t have to tell me twice…” I grab Royce from around the belt hinges of his jeans, tugging him backward until his ass hits my cock. I know they won’t physically touch me. Skully knows that pain doesn’t affect me the same way it does normal people. It’s hurting the people I care about that leaves marks on my skin. The kind I don’t love to feel. I’ve used pain as a way to feel for as long as I can remember, and when you’re hurting a fucker like me, that is only foreplay.

Royce’s arm twitches, but he slowly removes his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it into the corner. He still hasn’t turned around to face me, probably worried one of his buddies is gonna get whacked. Which they will. Within five seconds of the three of them being in here, I knew this was about Royce and not about the other two. They’re merely collateral damage.

“Ah, Wicked. How you never seem to disappoint me,” K Diamond says from the group. “Well go on then. Continue…”

It is the sixteenth day since all three of them have been in here with me. We’ve gone through every day like fucking robots, doing whatever he wants. After that first time, everything else has followed suit. We do what he wants, play the games he wants to play, but I know. I know the shit we are doing in here isn’t for K Diamond; he is simply the enforcer. With me, anyway. Over the past sixteen days, I feel like whatever bullshit is going on between him and Royce is personal. The jabs toward him and the punishments that sometimes only apply to him are obvious. I still don’t know what the game is here, other than K Diamond having beef with Royce. I have yet to see Skully or see what the fuck has happened and why the fuck I’m in here. His day will come. He can’t run for fucking ever.

Dried blood crusts over my arms, and I watch as Royce leans into the little hole in the door, grabbing the tray of food. He slides it across the floor to me as they all dig in.

“Tastes like chicken, but—different.” Orson sinks his teeth into the brown-colored meat, and I watch as he sucks the juice from the bones.

“I’d say more pork.” Storm examines the meat. “Is it weird that this is the first meat serving we’ve had? I mean, every other meal has just been eggs and rice or potatoes. Now he gives us meat?”