The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 78

Margot’s POV

The sound of boots striking concrete, followed by a deep male voice yelling something unintelligible, dragged me up from a dense fog of sleep.

“Let’s go, females! Thirty minutes! Up, dressed, and lined!”

I blinked hard, startled and confused, my brain lagging behind my body. My arms stretched instinctively above my head as my back arched against the thin mattress. I groaned softly, not quite ready to return to reality.

The cell was filled with the muffled sounds of shouting and doors being slammed open down the corridor. The usual morning chaos. But somehow, this time, it all felt far away. Distant. Like a dream I hadn’t fully let go of.

The sheets were warm, the pillow still smelled like him.

Then I saw him.

Coban.

Already up. Already showered.

His shoulders flexed as he pulled on his black shorts and reached for a clean white vest from his shelf. Water still clung to his damp hair, dark strands sticking to his forehead before he raked them back with his fingers.

He caught me staring.

“You needed that rest, clearly,” he said casually, glancing over his shoulder.

–

I sat up fully, my spine still stiff, trying to piece together the events of yesterday the panic, the kiss, the breakdown… and the way we’d just stayed there, tangled up in each other until sleep pulled me under like a tide.

He was right. I must’ve needed it. I hadn’t realised how completely drained I was until now. My limbs felt like lead and my face still ached slightly from the pressure of dried tears.

I watched him move around the cell with that same quiet control he always carried, and guilt slid through me like a knife.

God, I’d really lost it yesterday.

And the worst part was… I liked it. The kiss. The way he touched me. The way it felt like everything else, my past, the walls, the cameras, the guards just disappeared when he looked at me like that.

But I ruined it. Just like I always did.

He hadn’t made another move since. No teasing. No smug smirks. Not even a hint of interest. Just civil. Cool. Collected. And it stung more than it should have.

“Margot.”

His voice snapped me from my spiral.

“Huh?” I blinked at him, heat creeping into my cheeks.

“I asked if you’re listening to me.” His brow lifted as he shoved his laundry into the sack near the door. “You’re in your head again.”

“Sorry. What did you say?” I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the fog.

He ran that same hand back through his hair, still damp. “I said… you gonna miss me today?”

The corner of my mouth lifted before I could stop it, a short laugh slipping out. “Sure,” I said with a smirk, shaking my head.

But then his expression shifted…

And then came the second part…

“No, for real though… do you plan on telling them I’m a fucking bastard who deserves to be locked life?” he asked, not joking this time. “Because I’d rather the heads up if you are.”

The air changed. My chest tightened.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the cold concrete meeting my bare feet. “No,” I said instantly, my voice stronger than I felt. “I don’t plan on saying anything like that. I don’t think you deserve to be in here for life, Coban.”

But she was also still standing.

She was still here.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes left. Let’s not give them a reason to drag you out of here… I’ll need to kill the pigs. Coban called from behind the door in an attempt to joke, as I nodded despite the fact he couldn’t see me.

I moved quickly to climb under the warmth of the shower, washing away yesterdays remaining sweat, tears and grime…

I scrubbed my scalp with shampoo, cleaning my grease coated hair, before smothering every ounce of my skin in lathers of scented soap.

Satisfied, I climbed out, towel drying my head before dabbing at my wet skin next.

Good enough…

I grabbed my toothbrush, coated it in paste, before beginning to scrub.

Half way through, I heard Coban’s voice meet my ears again from the outside; “Only five minutes left… you’re such a woman!” He groans, which makes me chuckle to myself.

Who could blame me? I hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth last night after the state I wound up in. It was deserved in my opinion…

I finished up at the sink, tugged on my fresh underwear and clothes, before turning to exit – carrying the dirty ones to the laundry pile.

“You good?” He questioned, knowing we were about to be separated for the day.

“I am, are you?” I nodded, as he all but mumbled back somewhat of a response.

If I knew any better… I’d say the man was nervous…