The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 29

Margot’s POV

I pressed my head gently against the cold glass, letting the chill seep into my skin.

It was better than thinking too hard – better than watching Coban slaughter that poor punching bag like it owed him something.

I focused instead on the grey outside world. The barred windows, the concrete walls, chain–link fencing, some watch towers and their rifled guards in the event of an attempted escape.

–

When the familiar whoosh of the gym doors opened I couldn’t tell how long I’d been sitting like that again behind me, followed by a sharp, excited shriek.

“Margot!”

Jolted like I’d been tasered, snapping my head around just as a blur of dark curls came charging toward me.

Oh my god!

It was Cara!

I was on my feet before my brain had caught up, my heart leaping in a way that felt stupidly close to relief.

She was alive. Intact. She looked like herself – disheveled in a cute way, her cheeks flushed with recognition.

“Holy shit, you’re in here!” I gasped, barely able to believe it myself before she crashed into me, throwing her arms around my shoulders with enough force to make me stagger.

It was somewhat ridiculous really, since we hadn’t even been separated for an entire twenty four hours yet, but it felt like it had been a lifetime.

–

“I worried you were dead!” Cara cried dramatically, squeezing me, “Like actually murdered in your sleep and rolled up in a mattress, sorta dead!”

“Jesus, Cara!” I laughed, hugging her back. “What is wrong with you?”

“I just missed you,” she said with a shrug, as we finally stepped back from the embrace and looked each other over once more, in a maximum–security prison surrounded by felons.

I remembered where we were, realising we were being slightly louder than necessary, before I grabbed her wrist and yanked her down beside me on the seat. “So you managed to make it through the night, huh?” I asked, suddenly breathless from the short burst of energy.

Where is your guy? What one is he?” I asked her cautiously, scanning the room.

Cara glanced sideways, her body turning just slightly as she peeked around a few shoulders.

“There!” she whispered, practically bouncing in place. “That one – beside the tattoo guy. Next to the punching bag. Oh! Fuck! They’re both staring at us. Don’t look, don’t look!”

Too late…

I followed her gaze and instantly found them.

Two men, standing side by side like they’d stepped out of some testosterone–fueled prison catalogue: Coban, glistening with sweat, and right next to him, another mountain of a man with a sleeve of ink twisting down his arm and a stare sharp enough to slice through steel. Both of them were watching us.

Shit,” I muttered. “That tattoo guy is mine.” I whispered sharply, mortified to be caught ogling the pair.

Cara’s jaw dropped. “Shut up! No way! Well at least he isn’t old like you had dreaded! He’s pretty hot Margot! They both are… I think we got lucky.” Cara states, wiping faux sweat from her head in a ‘phew‘ motion.

“He’s just really snappy, seems to get pissed off at every little thing. He seen me for the first time and demanded to the guards that I change my uniform colour because he wouldn’t be caught walking around with a Barbie… something along those lines anyhow.” I explain, my voice lowering despite Coban being at the opposite end of the room.

Cara gasped, shaking her head. “It’s only clothes! Why does it matter?!” She groans, as I nod.

“Well it mattered to him. But I agreed to swap for grey or black – which was the only two choices he gave me… The next thing was that I was to sleep on the floor last night – he said I would need to earn my spot on the bed.” I swallow hard, grimacing at the stiff pain I had woke up with this morning.

“What an ass! Luca made a comment about wanting the bed all to himself too until I must’ve pulled off the best soppy face of a lifetime! He quickly told me to chill, and that he was only joking… if I’d fuck him.” Cara stated bluntly, as I nearly choked on air at her words.

‘WHAT?! WELL, DID YOU?!” I demand to know, knowing that my best–friend was a fellow virgin.

“No! Of course not! He started mocking me though, saying he could tell I was a virgin from my reaction, it was pretty embarrassing but he let it go eventually telling me to get some rest. He left me alone the entire night and I had a pretty good sleep…” Cara recites the memory, as I clutch my heart.

Thank God!

–

“Well this morning, Coban woke me up, before spotting my shiner of a bruise and wanted to know where it came from.” I start, as Cara’s eyes widen. “I forgot about the makeup, then I tried to lie, but he could see right through it.”

“So did you tell him the truth?” Cara leans in to ask, as I nod once, confirming that he now knew all about my abusive father…

Reflecting on it now, Coban had pretty much cracked me open in under a day… how was I going to survive the man?!