All Chapters of Cellblock Heat : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

185 Chapters

Chapter 21: Punk and Paint

Jordan The days in prison play on a loop. That's what makes it unbearable for most inmates who had lived an adventurous life outside the walls of the prison. Mine was quite an adventure. To an extent. So loops were what I was familiar with. Just as always, the cafeteria's got that bleach stench, but today, it comes with a touch of bod beans to ruin the atmosphere even further. Disgusting combo. Like I said, it isn't anything new. And settling down in my usual seat, tray in hand, with Quincy—slouched beside me like he was counting down the seconds until he could stop pretending the food here was edible—was no new thing too. This kinda loop is what I've come to get really acquainted with. As always…or nah, mostimes, I jabbed my plastic fork into the mashed slop on my plate with a little too much aggression. The goop squirted forward and nearly splattered on Quincy's arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his body jerk still. This was his reaction when something startled h

Chapter 22: Tightrope

Quincy “Alright, Cons, hurry your ass up,” a guard bellowed from the hallway. “Shower time’s scheduled for fifty minutes. Cellblock C, move!” Shower time in prison is one of the shadiest hours of the day. People sneak in contraband, make deals, settle scores… and worse. Things I’d rather not name. Things I don't ever want to be a victim of. That’s why I wait. I let all the OGs go first. Let them crowd in, do their thing, and leave. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself. I’m not afraid of them—not really. I just don’t want trouble. Some of these guys are serving life. Me? I’d rather not add extra months because I bumped into someone the wrong way under a busted showerhead. I spent the first fifteen minutes obsessively flossing like there were termites between my teeth. Then I brushed for another twenty like I was scrubbing ink off denim. All of it—a stalling tactic. With five minutes left, I shaved invisible side hairs like they were enemies of progress. I c

Chapter 23: Taught by Fire

QuincyI kept my lips sealed after what happened in the bathroom. I went on with my day.The yard work and all. My footsteps were deliberate. I was extra vigilant. Paranoid, even.I had sworn on my life never to tell Jordan what went down. Not when we passed trays at lunch, or when he chuckled under his breath at an inmate slipping in the yard mud. Not even when we walked the corridor side by side, him cracking jokes while I stared straight ahead, locked in my own damn mind.Malik’s voice still lingered in my ears. That soft, poisonous calm. That promise.Telling Jordan will be same as twisting the knife that had already been hooked in my flesh.He’d go off like dynamite, that’s for sure. Tear another piece of Malik apart and land himself in solitary again—if not worse. And then what? Malik's goons will come for me with a strong thirst for vengeance.That's why Jordan isn't supposed to know. I'll keep it to myself. Like a knife in my pocket. If Malik will implement his threats, I wi

Chapter 24: Frail Heart

Quincy The cell was cold. Or maybe I was. It was hard to tell where the chill began—inside or out.But I knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong.I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe properly either. My head throbbed like a siren trapped inside a box. Every sound was muffled. They felt distant. Like it came from the edge of a tunnel.Then—I heard a voice. Loud. Angry. Broken.“Help! I need help in here! Guards!”Banging of metal followed.That voice. I knew it.Jordan.Why did he sound so worried? He's the most unbothered man I've known. And now he's hauling like he was at the verge of falling into an abyss.My eyelids wouldn’t open to let me see him. My body was a weightless brick. My chest felt like it was being squeezed. I wanted to ask what was happening, but my tongue was heavy—cemented to the roof of my mouth.Then I felt it—strong arms circling around me. One hand cupping the back of my head, the other pressed tight around my ribs. I was shaking. Or maybe it was him.“Hold on, p

Chapter 25: Dr. Anaba

Quincy The infirmary was colder the second time around. Or maybe I was just more aware of my body now—each tender joint. The cold showers were also contributing to the cold. After my last crisis, my session was booked. The last thing I wanted was making this infirmary a spot where I would be visiting at several intervals. On a very normal day, I hated the idea of being in a hospital. Whether by escorting someone or being a patient, myself. I hated the smell of antiseptics. The whole blinding white background. The doctors and nurses that fix a strenuous smile on their face just to exalt the moods of their patients—-that act never works on me, and it never does. That's why I ate healthier and burned more calories. Just so I could keep fit. Just so I could stay far far away from the scent of antiseptics, blinding white walls, and the fake smiles from medical personnels.But now, my whole body has taken a flop. I'm far from living healthy when all that was edible was either looking mess

Chapter 26: Old Ghosts, New Shadows

JordanThe sound of rain still lingered in my ears, even though the storm had passed. The cell had dried into that weird kind of silence only prisons could perfect—where nothing felt truly still, but no one dared speak.Visiting hours.I stood by the metal sink, shirt in hand, brushing imaginary wrinkles from the sleeves like it mattered. My palms were damp.I’d only get fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty if the guard was in a good mood—but part of me still found time to care what I looked like. Old habits.I was halfway through smoothing the collar when I heard the cell door creak open.Quincy walked in.He had a weird movement earlier this morning, and I wanted to come with him to the infirmary to at least know the cause. But then the guards saw that to be the perfect time to dump me on some tedious yard duty. Thank fuck I had five minutes to shower, else I’d be smelling like shit.But then, he had that look on his face—the one that didn’t belong to the Quincy I first met. Gone was the s

Chapter 27: Where the Fire Begins

JordanThis was my first visitation in my sixth time of prison sentence. All had turned out the way I had expected. Half hearted laughter.News from the hood.Those were what I was used to, until Tariq crowned his visitation with those fucked up linesI wish this day never happened. I wish it did, though, but without the last news I'd just received.I don't even know if I should believe what I've heard, but the look on his face was one I could never take for a joke.This is the second time this week my fucked up system felt disoriented. First was Quincy's crisis. I used to make myself believe I was unfazed by anything. I tell myself I've seen and been a witness to the most horrible events. Quincy's crisis was proof that I hadn't. Or maybe I was just a goddamn wax when it came to him. If it were to be another inmate, I would have still been put together.And now, on this day that should have turned out to be what I could project, Tariq came in with greetings and good tidings.An info

Chapter 28: The Price of a Son

EdwardThe wind at the private hangar always smelled the same. It's always the smell of fuel, steel, and faint salt from the Atlantic.I never liked it.But I showed no reaction as I stepped out of the black SUV and into the tarmac breeze, adjusting the cuff of my overcoat with a practiced movement. My fingers moved on my coat, smoothing the fabric that didn’t need smoothing.It was an attribute to the wind. My jet was set for me. I had a board meeting in Germany where I was going alone. Without my Backbone. The jet gleamed under the hangar lights. The sleekness was what brought me more attention. It spoke about me before I spoke. “Everything’s ready, sir,” Myles, my efficient and punctual PA said as he walked behind me, by my side. Four armed bodyguards made a square formation around me.I gave him a nod, slow and silent, my eyes lifting toward the jet’s open stairway.It should’ve been another routine departure.But nothing had been routine since the night the calls stopped coming

Chapter 29: Blood on the Wall

Jordan You’d think the punch was the worst part. But no. It was sitting in Officer Bill’s goddamn office with dried blood on my hand, a sore wrist, and the image of Quincy’s parted lips still playing on repeat like a broken p**n tape in my head. There was no clock in here, but I could feel time dragging its feet just to piss me off. Bill was staring at me like I’d just confessed to shoving a shiv in my cellmate’s ribs. Spoiler alert: I hadn’t. He leaned back in his chair. The frame creaked like it, too, had had enough of my shit. “So you’re telling me,” he said, slow and deliberate, “that blood all over the wall wasn’t from you beating your cellie half to death?” I raised my eyebrows. “Did I say that?” He narrowed his eyes. “Your hand’s busted. There’s blood on the wall. And Laurent’s lip is split like someone took a hammer to it.” “I’ve got a wall problem,” I said dryly. “Not a cellie problem.” He stared. I stared back. Bill exhaled and leaned forward, clasping his thick

Chapter 30: Under Scrutiny

Quincy I had a session with Dr Anaba. And although it didn't feel like a good day was starting, I had to make it look like one. Did some workouts in the yard—away from the rest of the inmates. So far as good they've done nothing than giving me glares. They'd seen the bruise on my lips, and nothing excites them to know for a fact that my Protect—the name they called Jordan in regards to me—haf bitten me to shit last night. My back muscles ache so bad from the push. But it didn't stop me from going for ten push ups. I had confirmed it was really bad from the x-ray results Dr Anaba conducted. She bored my life with so many questions. Like why Jordan chose to give me the beating of a century after showing up as someone that would rather die than see me hurt. How do I feel about being locked up with one who's bipolar. If he'd assaulted me in the past before now, and I had chosen to stay quiet. Meanwhile as she went on with the questions, my mind drifted to Jordan's breath warming my

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