Prison Possession Ch 03

A week later James was beginning to feel like himself again. Better than himself. He had Sammy. The boy was still frightened and nervous, but he knew he had him wrapped around his little finger. He had his mind, and it wouldn't be long until his body followed. James was patient, he knew good things came to those who waited and although he would never admit it, he had grown very fond of the kid.

Every night after lights out he would clamber up into his bed without a word and nestle into him, his head on his chest. Some nights they might kiss, fondle and grind on each other, other nights they just slept, enjoying each others warmth and presence.

That morning Sam had already left for his now assigned afternoon duties, duties James was still on leave from for a further three days. This enabled him to set his affairs in order.

'I'd like to make a phone call,' he called to a guard outside his cell, after some deliberations over a walkie talkie, he was escorted to a phone booth.

'Hello?' the familiar gruff voice answered.

'Hey Ferg- its James,' he said, smiling slightly to be talking to his old friend again.

'J! Been a while man, how you doing?' Fergus replied, his voice sounding tinny and distant over the prison phone line.

'I'm good, I'm good,' he said trying to cut the small talk.

'You still feeding all my pets?' he asked. The childish code for his drug deals was necessary over tapped lines, and was so far working well.

'Yeah, the pets are all still kicking here. Your dog Nelly is getting a bit aggressive, he was... er... barking a lot when we last fed him, I think he wants more food.'

Fucking Neil. Of course he was getting difficult. Prison guards don't cope too well with authority from those who they see as inferiors. Well we'll see about that.

'No, reduce his food, he still needs to be trained appropriately. If he's still giving you trouble we'll have a talk about putting him down if we have to.'

'Yeah, I was thinking the same to be honest. Don't want anyone getting hurt if he lashes out.'

'Of course not. Everything else good with you?'

'Yeah man, we miss you here though. How much longer you got, about another year?'

'Nearer two.'

'Fuck man, well, we're thinking of ya.'

'Thanks Ferg, I'll call again soon.'

'Bye J,' he said, and James hung up.

'Boss says you're well enough for yard time,' the guard with the walkie talkie said as he approached him.

James smiled.

'Perfect, lead the way,' he said. He had several matters that needed attending to.

To his immense pleasure when he entered the yard he saw Neil was one of the supervisors by the far fence. The fat bastard was squinting at the inmates through his little dark eyes and James felt the ripple of dislike. Dodgy coppers and guards were useful, but a lying rat is a lying rat, whatever side you are on.

James made a lazy path towards him, and casually leaned on the fence a few feet from him and Neil waddled closer in his direction.

'You're up and about again then?' he said gruffly.

'Seems that way, yes,' James said, not looking at him but rather at the inmates milling around the yard. 'I hear you've been giving my boys some trouble Neil.'

James didn't have to be looking at him to see the bristle of indignation his words caused.

'W-wh- I merely-' he spluttered, reddening in the face.

'Want more?' James asked, turning a sudden cold stare on him. Neil pursed his lips.

'Yes. Yes, I want more. If you want me to turn a blind eye to what is happening here-'

'And what is that exactly?' James said icily.

'The mind-games! The grooming of that kid for Christ''s sake! I shouldn't have helped you, I should never have... Did he really call you Sir? Sir! It's not natural, and if you expect me-'

'I expect you to keep your mouth shut Neil. Don't think for a second that I couldn't get rid of you in a moment if I wanted to.'

'Is that a threat!?' Neil said getting angry and gripping his baton.

'You can take it however you like honey, but if you want to keep getting your product, you play nice. Blab and well...' James straightened up and began to cross the yard, but turned briefly to the visibly shaking guard, 'at least you wont have to worry about the withdrawal symptoms.'

James left Neil for a while to simmer, smirking to himself. He was wrapped around his little finger, the weak spineless man. But as the bell rang he saw Neil walking in his direction, his eyes were frighteningly calm. Just as he was about to walk past James to the door he hesitated.

'I don't do threats James, I think it's time you earned a little respect,' he hissed, and with one icy glare walked away. James felt a flicker of concern, but pushed it from his mind. What would he, could he, do?

*

Sam yawned, he had had a long day and was looking forward to returning to his bed, and James. He was nice to him, unlike the other inmates and officers who either ignored him or treated him like crap. But thankfully for fear of James no one tried to hurt him.

A bell rang and he jumped to his feet, finally time to go.

Just as he was about to shuffle out of the door with the rest of the inmates he felt a tap on his shoulder and two officers were looking at him. One of them he recognised as Neil, the one who helped James, the one he knew he could trust.

'Theres been an issue, you have to be moved from your cell for the night,' said the unfamiliar officer.

'What?' Sam said 'what issue?'

'Nothing serious,' Neil reassured him, 'just some misbehaviour so he is being given enforced isolation for the next 48 hours.'

'Oh,' Sam said sadly. 'So where am I going instead?'

'There's a spare bunk in cell block B,' Neil said, 'I'm to take you there.'

Neil took Sam's arm and led him away, the other guard escorted the rest of his block to their cells and Sam looked hopelessly for a sign of James, but he was nowhere to be seen. They walked out into the chilly early evening air and towards the adjacent block.

A set of large green double set doors greeted them, which opened as they approached. Neil nodded at the guards inside who approached a nearby cell and opened it, at which Neil shoved Sam inside.

It was empty and chilly, with a single bed that had a large suspicious stain, and when the door slammed behind him he felt so incredibly lonely, wishing desperately for James to be here. He imagined his warmth pressed against his body and couldn't deny the twinge of pleasure it brought him.

He imagined the hard pressure that he would sometimes feel when James was close brushing against his leg. He liked it. He liked knowing someone was into him that much, the physical evidence of it made him feel warm inside. Affection was not something he was used to and he found all the emotions it brought him confusing. Was he gay? He thought about James dick, how it had felt in his mouth, how it might feel elsewhere, the warmth he would feel as their sweaty bodies became one. He felt his own genitals begin to react to his sex daydreams and he blushed, looking to the door as if someone was watching him. But there was no one. He was alone, and it was so so cold.

*

When it came to lock down and Sammy wasn't back James began to worry. Where was he? He felt uneasy. It wasn't normal for an inmate to be out of their cell this long. Not without a clear reason.

He had tried to ask the guard as he passed his door but he was ignored. He was ignored by every guard that passed him. He became suspicious then.

'Neil,' he muttered, tapping his fingers nervously on the door as he hunched over, looking out of the small cracked window for any sign of Sam, or any sign of the fat, lazy, addict-

His eyes met James, and he smirked. James stomach tightened, his knuckles white as he gripped the frame of the door. Neil walked casually towards James cell and slid open the hatch in the door with a look in his eyes that made James blood run cold and boil up all at the same time, there was an acidic taste in his mouth and he had to fight all the urges inside him to punch something.

'What did you do?' he spat at Neil, hardly containing his anger.

'Put you back in your place,' Neil growled. 'You think you're the king of this place well think again. I'm not your little pet, you listen to me, you obey me.'

'What did you do?' James repeated, enunciating each word one by one through gritted teeth.

'Nothing,' he said simply. 'Oh, right, yes I did do something. Little Sam has had a cell change for a while.'

'Where?' James said.

'Oh Block B... there was a spare bed in one of the inmates cells... I think you know him... Tony Lorenzo?'

James froze. His anger was gone, overwhelmed by complete shock, complete fear.

He couldn't have...

He thought of Sam, his Sam, locked in a room with that man. What might he do to him? What might he have already done.

'No!' he cried out, he felt tears of anger well up in his eyes and he reached out through the hatch for Neil. To grab him, to throttle him, to claw at his eyes until he was blind.

Neil laughed, stepping out of reach with ease. James continued to stretch out, his fingers brushing mere inches from him until he collapsed in defeat against the door.

'Just think,' Neil said smugly, 'he's probably being fucked right now. I wonder, does Lorenzo come across as the gentle type? Will he still be in one piece after you reckon?'

James looked back up through the window at him in pure rage, and held the icy stare.

'You're dead,' he whispered.

'Yeah you can threaten me all you like. You aren't getting any phone calls anytime soon. And if you try to attack me, you'll only be forcing more time with Tony on your precious little fag.'

James didn't flinch at the slur, only glared harder.

'Your codes have been cracked, your boys are all caught. I guess theres advantages to having a little inside information,' Neil smirked. 'It's all over, you're nothing.'

James yelled through the hatch something intelligible. A mixture of rage, agony and fear clawing at his insides, ripping his throat apart, his heart burning. Neil just smiled, shutting the hatch with self satisfied glee and sauntered away.

James stood clutching the door for a long time, his body shaking, riddled with the rush of emotions overwhelming him. He couldn't fight his imagination showing him images of Sam.

He imagined him pressed against a wall in pain, bleeding and frightened, Tony behind him, a sinister smile, a dreadful deep laugh as he took his Sam for his own. Sams cries for help, cries for him. He promised he would protect him, he had failed him.

He sunk to the floor clutching his head and crying, for the first time in a long long time.

*

Sam awoke. He felt strange. Something was itching at him, not a physical itch but a mental one. Something was wrong. He thought about James. What had he done that deserved the isolation, he must make sure to ask Neil. What if he had been in a fight and he was hurting? He felt his chest tighten at the thought of James needing him and he being here, useless and cold.

He looked around the cell, it was so dingy and dark. The lights glow little more than a candle. There was no window either, no way to guess the time of day. It was disorienting. He sat for a while thinking, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

*

James sadness at some point through the night has solidified into one pure and unfaltering emotion. Rage. Specifically the murderous kind. He hadn't slept, he had stayed up all night working out how he could get Neil out, gone, and dead.

As soon as his door was unlocked he was immediately on the look out for one face in particular. He spotted him on the stairs ahead and sped up.

'Craig,' he called and Craig slowed.

'Oi oi look who's back, after another favour?' Craig grinned.

'Yeah. A fucking big one though, I dunno what you're going to say but hear me out.'

James led him to a quiet table in the hall and they sat, making sure no one was in earshot.

'I need Neil gone.'

Craig narrowed his eyes, 'by gone do you mean...?' he mimed a throat cut with his hand and James nodded solemnly. Craig breathed out a long sigh.

'And you expect me to help you with this, how? Why even?'

'They've cracked my guys. Neil was buying off them and he dobbed them in, I'm not sure if he got them all but it's not safe for me to try and contact them.'

'Shit man, Ferg too?' he said, Fergus and Craig were distant cousins or something like that, James didn't really know or care.

'Probably. But, I've got an idea. Neil's a coke head, and he's just lost his supply. Your guys are the next best bet in the area, they sell him some coke, do the deal in a place that is 'accidentally' near a security camera and then fake some gang violence. Fatal stab wound, but with coke on his person. Discredits his evidence on my guys, and he's out the way.'

Craig looked at him with concern, 'but why. Why kill him all of a sudden, what's changed?'

'He took Sam.'

*

Sam sat at a table awkwardly in the unfamiliar hall. It was so like his own block, and yet the faces seemed harder, sterner and more menacing here. He felt frightened without James beside him.

The bench squeaked as someone sat beside him. He turned and saw with horror it was Tony Lorenzo. His large toad like face looked at him with those beady dark eyes, hunger and excitement sparkling in them.

'Well what do we have here?' Tony asked before laughing a low grumbling laugh. His hand whipped under the table and grabbed Sam's leg, holding it tightly, so tightly he made a whimper of pain.

'I like the noises you make kid, how about we make that noise again just a little louder back in my cell?'

*

'Shit,' Craig said when James had filled him in on everything that had happened. Ok,' he said, 'I'll talk to my guys and see. He has been causing us all trouble recently and if hes become a rat I don't want that hitting us next.'

'Thank you,' James said, honestly, and Craig rose an eyebrow.

'Never heard a sincere thank you from you before. But it's gunna need more than that.'

'Anything, I'll give you anything.'