The Cost of Silence

The clank of the prison gates echoed behind me, a sound that had punctuated my days and nights for the last eight years. The guards barely gave me a nod as I stepped out into the bright and hot summer day, the sun's rays a stark contrast to the cold, artificial light I'd grown accustomed to. I squinted, shielding my eyes, as I searched the parking lot.

There they were, Andy and Trey, looking like a pair of nervous schoolboys rather than the men I'd left inside. They were standing beside a car that screamed middle-class comfort — a far cry from the getaway vehicle we'd used on that fateful night.

Andy stepped forward with a hand out to shake mine, his attempt at a welcoming smile failing to mask the tension in his voice. "Great to see you, Mike. Why don't we go grab a beer, huh? Talk about getting you back on track."

Trey's eyes were fixed on me, his gaze taking in the physical transformation prison had wrought upon me. "Shit, Mike, you look... different," he said, his voice edged with a mix of respect and fear. "Did they give you steroids in there or something?"

"Eight years of doing nothing but lifting weights and working in a machine shop kind of does this to a man," I said. I was looking good. I knew it. Not only that, but I'd always been a good-looking guy. I'd been told it throughout my senior school years, but I used to be fat. Not quite Homer Simpson, but not too far off either, and the weight didn't suit me. Now my face looked sharp and angular, and my body was ripped. I'd made sure I stayed out of trouble inside. Getting yourself on the wrong side of a gang member could see your face cut badly or worse. The latest trick was a kettle of sugary water in the face. It stuck, and fuck, it burned. I saw a few guys who looked like Deadpool without the mask.

We soon found ourselves in the dimly lit coolness of a bar that had sprung up during my years inside. The frosty beer was a balm to my parched throat. The first in a long time, but I could taste unease in the air as much as the hops.

Andy cleared his throat, his fingers drumming on the table. "Mike, we've been thinking," he started, avoiding my gaze. "We've got your share from the pawn shop—plus a little extra. We're talking forty-five grand to help you start fresh... somewhere else."

I slapped my chest. "Somewhere else?" I said with mock hurt. "You don't want me around? That hurts."

I leaned back, appraising them with a smirk. "That's a nice sum, boys. But it's not what I'm after." I let the silence hang for a moment, savoring their discomfort. "You see, I spent eight years locked up while you two enjoyed your freedom. Eight... years... I want compensation for the time I lost... I want something from each of you. Something precious."

Their faces blanched as I spelled it out for them. "I'll be taking some time with each of your wives. Starting with..." I deliberately stretched out the last syllable and pointed back and forth between them. "... Sarah," I added, pointing at Andy.

Andy's laugh was a hollow sound, tinged with disbelief. "What the hell are you saying? You're going to force yourself on Sarah?"

"Rape her? No," I said, my voice cold and calm. "She'll be willing. Trust me."

"Bullshit!" Andy's voice cracked, his veneer of control slipping. "She'd never—"

"Oh, she will," I smirked.

"What if we say no?" Trey said.

"If you don't agree?" I growled, leaning over the table. "No problem. I'll go straight to the cops. They've been asking me for eight fucking years who was with me, and I've never told them. I never said a word. But the fuckers knew I had friends. The pawn shop owner told them... and remember... I managed to grab the latest security tape and get it stashed before they found me."

I let that sink in for a moment as the color drained from Andy and Trey's faces.

"Eight to fifteen years, boys," I said, breaking the silence. "That's what you're looking at. As for Belle and Sarah? You'll lose them forever."

"And what if Sarah says no?" Andy's voice was barely a whisper now.

"Oh, you're not going to ask her," I laughed. "You're not going to say a fucking thing to her. All she needs to know is you're helping me out. Helping me get back on my feet, so to speak."

"She never really liked you, Mike," Andy said nervously.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "I admit, I was a bit of a dickhead when I was in senior high. I've changed. I'm a nice guy now," I laughed, leaning back.

"But what happens if she doesn't sleep with you?"

"That's not your problem. But she will. And you won't interfere. You won't say anything to her. You won't interfere with anything I say or do, and you're going to make yourself scarce next week. If you interfere, or I think you're interfering, I'll know. And then it's prison time for both of you."

"Make myself scarce? I'm on leave next week. Sarah and I have taken a week off to enjoy the new pool we just finished."

I leaned back in. "You're pissing me off now. You're a smart man. Think of something. Work needs you. I don't know, and I don't give a fuck, but make an excuse. Stop whining like a bitch. Whiney bitches are very popular in prison, Andy. Very popular."

I stood, excusing myself to the restroom, leaving them to mull over the gravity of the situation.

Upon my return, I found them huddled together, whispering frantically. "We'll pay you. One hundred thousand dollars," Andy blurted out as soon as I sat down.

Their desperation was almost laughable, but it wasn't enough. I let out a hearty laugh, shaking my head. "Money can't buy what I want. I've been dreaming of this for years. No, I'll take my time with Sarah and Belle. That's my price. Well... that and the forty-five grand you already offered."

The tension between us crackled like a live wire, their next move uncertain, the stakes higher than they'd ever imagined. Besides, after I've had their women, I'll be taking their money anyway.

"So when?" Andy asked.

"Hmm, Friday today." I mused, scratching my clean-shaven chin. "I'll give you a couple of days to make your plans and inform Sarah of your generous hospitality, putting me up and helping a friend in need. I'll be there on Sunday, just after lunch."

"Fuck Andy," I laughed. "Why don't me and you, and the lovely Sarah, light up the grill?"

I let Andy stew on the thought. The little fucker hadn't changed much in the eight years I'd been away. Still the nervous little boy. How the fuck I'd managed to convince these two little fuckers to help me do over the pawnshop still amazes me. But I've always been able to convince people and get what I want. My mom used to say, 'He could sell sand to the Saudis, my Michael. Gift of the gab, that boy.' It was a useful skill to have inside.

"You haven't seen Sarah for eight years," Andy finally sprayed. "She's put on a lot of weight in the meantime."

"Oooooohhh," I cooed. "I like a woman with something to hold on to."

His face sank.

"But the thing is, Andy boy. You might think the internet is not available in prison, but just about every cellmate has a smartphone. Fuck, it cost a lot to get this smuggled in," I said, pulling a phone from my back pocket. I played with my phone, pulling up Facebook, while Andy and Trey just stared.

"Lookie here?" I said, turning my phone toward Andy. "Sarah is looking pretty fine to me, Andy. She posted that photo on Facebook just last week."

I laughed out loud. "Jesus, she looks better than fine. I'm going to enjoy riding that... Not as much as she'll enjoy it, though," I winked.

"Fuck you, Mike," Andy spat.

I launched to my feet and bent over him, fisting his shirt and holding him back in his chair. "You watch your tongue there, Andy. You don't want to make an enemy of me. You just make sure your pretty Sarah is ready to welcome me into your home," I released his shirt and pulled his shirt straight. "But she had better not know of anything of what we agree. Do you understand?"

Andy nodded.

*****

The taxi pulled up outside your typical Floridian home: neatly manicured lawn, two SUVs in the driveway, two-story middle-class suburbia. It's better than a 68-square-foot concrete cell, that's for sure.

Andy greeted me with a firm handshake and an overly friendly welcome. Sarah wasn't with him, but I guessed she was somewhere within earshot. I felt the excessive pleasantries were either nerves or Sarah was pissed off at me coming into their home at such short notice, and he was trying to butter her up.

"Mike," he whispered, "no mention of the money, all right? Sarah knows nothing about it."

I nodded. "No problem."

He started to turn away when I put my hand on his chest and stepped close, towering over him. "Just make sure we keep to our agreement, and Sarah need never know anything... Now... she wouldn't be expecting anything, would she, Andy?"

He shook his head silently.

"Good man."

Andy ushered me upstairs, his false eagerness to please practically radiating off him. "Let me show you to your room," he said, his voice a little too high-pitched. "Then we can catch up on what's been happening around here."

'Around here' refers to the local neighborhoods. Andy and Sarah still lived near where we grew up and went to school.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I saw her—Sarah. She was leaning over the bed, smoothing out the sheets, her blonde hair cascading down her back. Her ass was fucking perfect. The only thing wrong with it is it was clothed — even if it was in tight shorts. She hadn't noticed us yet. I let my eyes feast on her spectacular legs and imagined them wrapped around my waist.

"Sarah, honey," Andy called out, "Mike's here."

She turned with a hard glare at Andy, but even through the scowl, I could see she was a true stunner. I knew from the photos I'd seen online that Sarah had blossomed from a pretty young woman into a bombshell, but in person, she looked even better. What the fuck she was doing with a fuckwit like Andy was beyond me.

She didn't even look at me, storming into another bedroom and closing the door.

Andy pointed at each of the doors, giving me a rundown of where the bathroom was and where I'd sleep. Throw your bag in there and come down when you're ready," he said, going downstairs.

I put my bag on the bed and checked out the cupboards and drawers. God knows why? Just nosiness, I suppose.

I returned to the landing as Sarah came out of her bedroom, coming face to face with me, and for a moment, I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes give way to something else—surprise, maybe even shock. I stepped toward her, feeling the fabric of my shirt stretch across my chest and my arms. The jeans I wore were snug, a testament to the hours of labor and exercise that had chiseled my new form.

"Hi, Sarah," I said, my deep voice a little quieter than usual. "Thanks for letting me stay. I promise I won't be here any longer than necessary."

Her blue eyes were wide as she took me in. "Mike? I... wow, you look... amazing," she stammered, her gaze lingering a little too long on my arms.

I chuckled, feeling a flush of pride. "Thanks. Turns out there's no KFC on the prison menu," I joked.

She laughed, a light, musical sound that seemed to fill the room. She crossed her arms under her tits. Fuck me. I used to daydream about those tits all through my teenage years. She developed early, and she developed way beyond the average. Jesus, she was still a pretty thing.

I could see her still checking out my arms and chest. Her eyes returned to mine, and she knew she'd been busted. I'd forgotten how easily she blushed, but it brought back memories of me teasing her in school.

"I... I'll go get us some cold drinks. It's sweltering today," she said, brushing past me, her scent—a mix of vanilla and something floral—briefly enveloping me.

We made our way down to the new deck beside the pool, the sun beating down on the polished wood. I let out a low whistle as I took in the expanse of their home. "Wow, what a fantastic house. You must have been saving for ages for a deposit," I said, winking at Andy.

His face stiffened, and I knew he'd never shared what happened that fateful night at the pawnshop or how he came to have an extra thirty grand at such a young age.

Sarah, returning with a tray of iced teas, set them down and smiled. "Actually, Andy had a lucky win on some lottery scratch cards. It was quite the surprise."

"Wow! Did he now? Andy, you've got it all. A fabulous house, the most beautiful woman in town, and you won the lottery, too. I want some of that to rub off on me.

Sarah reddened at my compliment. The hard glare she'd shown me earlier vanished.

We settled into the outdoor furniture, I sat there, soaking in the sun on the deck, sipping a cold iced tea Sarah had brought out. The ice clinked against the glass as I took another draw, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat of the day. The pool's water shimmered invitingly, but I kept my focus on the conversation and on Sarah.

"I hope I'm not being too forward here," I said, "and forgive me if you think I am being rude, but you really look fantastic, Sarah. You were a bit of a geek at school, if you don't mind my saying. I mean, you were pretty and all, but this is like a total makeover..." I trailed off, letting my gaze linger just a moment too long.

A soft giggle slipped from her full lips while a rush of crimson painted her collarbone — an all too enticing sight. Andy cleared his throat clumsily and started to intervene, but I cut him off. His interruption was unwelcome. "What are you doing for work, Sarah? No! Let me guess... you must be modeling, right?" I asked.

Her color deepened at my bold compliment. "Cut it out, Mike. You're making me blush." She swatted away my words bashfully, but her blue eyes twinkled with delight. "I am not a model."

"What? Are you kidding me?" I turned to Andy with disbelief painted across my face. "Tell her, Andy. She could definitely be modeling, right? With those looks?"

"No, I don't think so, anyway, Sarah's certainly not a model," Andy interjected tactlessly. "She's crunching numbers in finance."

I watched as disappointment clouded Sarah's radiant expression, her blush a distant memory. In the span of a heartbeat, Andy managed to extinguish the incandescent smile on his wife's face. I'd just paid her a compliment any woman would love to hear, and he torpedoed it. I had baited him, but even I didn't think he'd be such a fool.

Idiot. This was going to be like taking candy from a baby.

"Finance, huh? Well, you were always super smart, so I guess that makes sense. But, well, I'll just say this one last time, and then I'll shut up about it, but you are looking amazing."

Sarah's redness in her cheeks had nearly faded when my latest compliment brought it back, a hint of color on her cheeks as she smiled shyly. "You're not looking too bad yourself, Mike. Prison life seems to have agreed with you," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Andy coughed, a clear sign of his growing discomfort. "Mike worked out a lot in prison," he interjected quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

I ignored him, my attention fixed on Sarah. "Yeah, not much else to do in there but lift weights and think about... all the wonderful things you're missing on the outside."

There was a moment of silence between us. I wanted Sarah to speak first, and she did.

"So, Mike, what's the plan now that you're out?" she asked, her tone light but curious. She tucked a strand of her perfect blonde hair behind her ear, a small gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair, feeling the anxiety rolling off Andy like waves. "Well, the first plan is to enjoy this iced tea," I said with a wink. "After that, who knows? I've got some catching up to do, don't I?"

Sarah laughed. A melodic sound that made me want to hear it again. "I guess you do. Eight years is a long time."

Andy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting between us. "Yeah, let's not dwell on the past, though, right? Mike's here to relax a bit, get back on his feet."

I could see the strain in Andy's smile, the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped his drink a little too tightly. I decided to push it just a bit, see how far I could go before he snapped.

"Andy tells me you've just had this pool put in. I must say it is fantastic. I bet you'll enjoy this summer lying out here with the pool to cool off?"

"Well, we had this week off to enjoy it, but Andy needs to work, unfortunately, so our plans are ruined," she said, pouting at Andy.

"You can enjoy it, though, right?" I said.

She looked down, fiddling with her glass.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm going to be out all day job hunting. I won't disturb you. You'll have the pool to yourself," I lied.

Andy's face lit up after hearing my words.

"In fact, tomorrow, I'll be gone before you're even awake, I bet," I smiled warmly.

Sarah bit her lip, her gaze flicking between me and the pool. "It must have been tough, being cooped up for so long. I can't even imagine."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "It was, but I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted once I got out. What I was excited about the most."

"And what was that?" Sarah asked, her voice barely above a whisper, leaning in closer.

Andy stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the deck. "I think I'm going to light up the grill," he announced, his voice tight.

Sarah watched him go, then turned back to me, her eyes locked on mine. "You never answered my question, Mike."

I smiled at the thrill of the chase, the game, making my heart race. "Freedom," I said simply. "The simple things, you know? A good meal, a soft bed, and... a beautiful woman."

She mirrored my smile, her eyes not leaving mine. "Well, I hope we can provide at least some of that for you while you're here."

"Oh, I'm sure you will, Sarah," I replied, my voice low and confident.

As the afternoon wore on, the air between us crackled with unspoken words and glances that lingered too long.

Andy tried to break up interactions between Sarah and me, but the tension was growing in him. I knew what I wanted, and from the look in Sarah's eyes, the way she laughed at my jokes, and the way she touched my arm when she spoke, I thought I might be ahead of schedule here.

*****

As I watched Sarah move with a grace that seemed almost effortless, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for Andy. "Hey, Sarah, need a hand with dinner?" I called out, hoping to get a moment alone with her.

She glanced over her shoulder, a smile lighting up her face. "Sure, Andy's got the grill, but would you mind helping me chop some vegetables for the salad?"

I nodded and followed her into the kitchen, watching the way she tied her apron around her waist. I could feel Andy's stare on the side of my face. I turned and gave him a wink.

As I sliced through the crisp bell peppers, I couldn't help but notice Sarah's exquisite figure. "You look like you work out, Sarah?"

"Yeah, I like to do Pilates and go to the gym with my friends when I can," she said, glancing through the window towards Andy. "Nothing to your level, though, Mike."

I saw she was about to pick up the cucumber, and as she did, I picked it up, putting my hand over hers.

"That's a big cucumber," I said, following her eyes to the phallic object we gripped. She blushed a deep crimson, so I pulled my hand away, slowly tracing my fingers over the back of her hand.

"It's not that big," she said.

Jesus, is she flirting with me already? I started thinking this was going to be way easier than I had expected.

"Have you ever seen one that big?"

"You're making me nervous, Mike," she whispered to prevent Andy from hearing.

"Hey, I'm sorry, Sarah," I said, raising my hands. "I didn't mean any offense. We're all friends here, right? I was just being playful."