Chapter 2

Mason was talkative, much too talkative for my liking. Throughout my entire life I had been taught to remain silent and observe, to speak only when I had figured my entire target out, to only speak when someone was going to die and to only speak when I found it necessary. 

Mason, Mason shared none of those teachings with me. With him, it was talking in the day, talking at night and it took everything in me to hold back from strangling him while he spoke. 

Of course those were my thoughts for the first two days, but after that, I found it- not soothing- but it kept me sane to listen to Mason drone on about anything and everything. We were in solitary confinement which meant no going outside, well, me at least. Mason got an hour outside once a day and when he came back he would tell me how it was outside, as though I had never been there before but I held back from saying anything and instead looked at him as he spoke. 

"You know," he was standing and taking a piss in the corner of the room because he'd just came back from his one hour walk outside, "the way you look at me unnerves me." 

"What?" I asked, shocked, the statement unlike what I had expected him to say. It sounded as though he was saying something much...

"Yeah, the way you look at me. I mean, you don't talk, you just listen and look at me." 

I couldn't stop the laugh that came out of my throat as I shook my head, "if you are saying what I think you're saying, it's not that." 

He chuckled, joining in with me, "no, I know you don't want me, I mean my ass is sexy, but you look at me like you want to kill me or I don't know, it's just scary." 

"If I wanted to kill you, you would've been dead already." 

"Are you always this serious?" Mason asked as he put on his pants again, and walked to the basin to wash his hands, and then leaned against the door. 

Mason was a big built man, with tattoos covering his arms and his chest, he didn't have abs but it was very visible that he was a good fighter. A man like him looked dangerous and he was, but he talked too much. His talkativeness did not match his face or his body, it seemed unnatural. 

"I'm tired of being in this place," he said finally, groaning as he ran his hands in his long shoulder length hair that seemed to grow more every day, "I would kill to just get out of here."

I got up from my bed, moving my shoulders as I stretched and then started doing sit ups to relieve the tension in my body, and to grit my teeth with Mason's talking. 

"And this that they feed us, really," he kicked the door, "it's not even porridge, its goddamn water. God , I hate this place. You know, I used to be..." 

He stopped talking and I stopped mid sit up as I raised a brow at his quietness, he moved away from the door as we heard the locks outside the door begin to move. I carried on with my sit up as a guard entered the room, standing in between the door, seeming too afraid to enter fully. 

"Put on your clothes and your mask," he said, "you're going to go take a shower," he smirked at that and then closed the door. 

I looked at Mason, who was now sitting on his bed, his head on his fists as he whistled, "oh yeah!" He cheered happily as he started to clap his hands, "this is happening." 

"What is happening?" I asked him and he grinned. 

"Your welcome party," he grinned, "you're about to see why I'm able to get through each day in this place. Let me tell you about her," he began excitedly as I started to get dressed in the black overalls, "no, I can't even tell you how beautiful she is, but there is one thing I can say, she's brutal, she's mean, she's cold, and God, I love her." 

"Who is she?" 

"We don't know, but she's Carter's girl, his woman," he replied, watching me as I put on my boots and then I walked to my mask I had placed at the corner of my bed. 

"Who is she?" 

"We don't know, man, but," he paused as the door was opened again, "we call her Kitty..." The guards surrounded me, putting chains on me again, "trust me man, you'll know why her showers get us through this hell!" 

The guards hushed his cheering with a stun stick and he laughed as they tased him, as though it was a tickle stick. I couldn't help but shake my head and chuckle at his behaviour as the guards surrounded me. Again, there were gunmen lined on the top floor, pointing their snipers at me and I looked up at all of them, knowing it unnerved them for me to look them in the eye. 

They will all die.

The guards began to lead me through the place and all the prisoners began to hit against their cell bars, chanting out "Prisoner VII", and hollering. 

The guards moved with me as we walked through hallways and then into an elevator where they pressed the button for the lowest floor and the elevator moved causing that familiar feeling in my stomach as it dropped. 

When the elevator doors opened, it was an entire open floor, with a huge shower right in the middle. The floor was wet and the place had windows right at the top which would be difficult to get to, but there was sun coming into the room. There was a row of fans, all spinning and bringing some much needed wind as I closed my eyes, hating the leather mask which made my breathing slower and hot. 

The guards stepped back away from me, silent and not speaking, as we all waited. 

It couldn't have been more than a minute until we heard the sound of heels clicking against the white pristine tiles. The guards surrounded me to take off my chains and they fell to the floor. 

When they stepped back, I was met with the sight of woman, wearing a full black outfit and red thigh high heels with a belt around her waist.

I've been training to become the American Don ever since I was 6 years old, I have been the American Don for 20 years and in that time I have had the most beautiful exotic women. They have been gifted to me, they had thrown themselves at me and I had bought them. I'm talking about every single beauty under the sun, the kind of beauty Vogue could only scratch the surface of. 

But even with that, I wasn't prepared for this sight. I hadn't prepared to see this, this woman. Her face was blank, displaying no emotion as she dismissed the guards who accompanied me, surrounded by her own guards who wore full black and red boots, matching with her. 

When the guards left she stepped forward and I was unable to tear my eyes away from her as she began to walk around me. 

She signalled with her hand for me to take off my mask and I followed her orders, daring not to break my stare, and she challenged my stare with her own. When I took off my mask and let it fall to the ground, her eyes scanned my face and then she pointed to my overalls. 

"Take off your clothes, Prisoner VII," one of her guards spoke as he walked to the shower in the centre of the room. 

I took them off, always confident in my body as I got naked and then ran my hand through my hair as she stepped aside and pointed to the shower. Did she not speak?

I walked to the shower, which was already running, the water was freezing and I sucked in a breath, standing under it as I ran my hands through my hair. 

The shower then stopped, when I was just getting comfortable. 

"Prisoner VII," she finally spoke, her voice raspy and hoarse, causing a stirring in my groin as I turned my head and met her brown eyes, "I will be seeing you three times a week and we'll have a nice cup of coffee, sit around a table and have a little chat." 

Her tone was anything but kind and consoling, rather it was abrupt and to the point, which made me smirk. 

"But, I have been given instruction to make sure that you behave, and therefore you need a taste of your punishment," she said, tilting her hand, remaining eye contact with me. I knew she was distracting me from what was behind me. 

The first hit came quickly, I could see it coming, but I didn't want to break my eyes away from hers. That was a baton, and the guard that hit me had used all of his strength as he started to strike me. From one guard beating me, it became all of them as they beat me until I fell to the floor, on my knees, grunting with each hit. 

They beat me everywhere from my back, to the back of my knees and the back of my head and then stopped only when they got tired. 

She walked to my crumbled self. I could see her red boots coming towards me through the blur of my tears and the water on my face or it could have been blood. The shower was running again, and the water, even though was freezing, soothed the burn of my beaten self. When she stopped in front of me, two guards came and forced me to my feet. 

Her face was close to mine as I let out a smirk, biting my bottom lip as her face still remained the way it had been, "Prisoner VII, I look forward to seeing you." 

"Not as forward as I do, beautiful," I said, before a guard whipped me with a baton hard across my back unexpectedly and I cried out. 

"Clean him up," she said as she looked at the one guard and started to walk away from me as the guards carried on the torture. 

~~~

I had gotten back to the room a half hour ago, limping and grimaced as I sat down. The beating was terrible. Mason sat across from me, watching me, smirking and his eyes seemed knowing. 

"How was your shower?" He asked, unable to keep his joy and excitement out of his voice. 

I bit my inner cheek, fighting back my smirk, "hot." 

He grinned, knowing exactly what I meant, "how many times are you going to see her?"

"Three times a week," I said as I turned and lay down on the bed, slowly, because the bruises were still fresh and my back felt swollen. 

"I'm jealous, seeing that face three times a week, fucking blessing if you ask me." 

~~~