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Chapter 167

Autor: Hxn
last update Última actualización: 2025-12-10 22:17:58

“Forget about repaying me,” I mutter, trying to pull away even though every nerve in my body is burning for him. “Let’s just head back to the cell.”

But Jordan hooks a finger under my chin, lifting it with that slow, deliberate confidence that always unravels me.

His touch steals the air from my lungs.

“I insist,” he says, voice low and rough enough to scrape along my spine. “You and I both know you don’t want to go back to that cell in the same state you came.”

The words… God, the words. They punch straight through the fog in my head, lighting everything on fire from the inside out.

I swallow hard. The darkness hides the flush on my face, but my breathing—heavy and uneven—gives me away.

Jordan reaches into his pocket without breaking eye contact. Another small plastic bag gleams between his fingers. Mollies. Of course he has more. He carries them like they’re stitched into him.

“Let’s get you started,” I say quietly, almost ashamed of how easily the words slip out as he pulls out a s
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  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 175: Control is a Habit

    JordanI’m on the rooftop, pressing my spine against the cold metal of the air vent, like it might hold me together if I lean hard enough. The wind is vicious tonight. Sharp and unrelenting. I stripped down to my briefs and let it have me. Let it gnaw every inch of my skin..It’s easier than sitting still with my thoughts.Block C is dark. Lights out.I waited thirty minutes after it went dark, before I came up here, slipped away while the block was still buzzing with noise and bullshit. It’s not hard to guess why I needed the air. Or why I needed to be alone.All the reasons blur into one.The cell feels too small without him.And I feel too large inside it, like I don’t fit anymore.It’s been twelve hours since Quincy walked out of Blackbridge.Twelve hours since he became an ex-convict.I made damn sure I didn’t give myself time to think. Took every yard duty I could get. Volunteered for shit no one else wanted. I went from laundry to hauling, scrubbing, doing anything that soaks me

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 143: Escape Scheme

    Quincy Sneaking out of your own welcome party should feel…wrong.It didn't, actually.It feels like winning a racing game, and having a large number of NPCs cheering me on.The adrenaline hits me the moment I decide to do it. My body agrees with my brain that staying another second in Al Thuraya Ballroom will actually kill me. Or worse, trap me in a conversation about “my relationship” with Stacy, her manicured hand latched onto my sleeve like I’m a limited-edition item about to be recalled.The dance kinda saved me.After the dabke wraps up and the men are laughing, sweating, slapping one another on the back, the women take their turn. Music shifts. The energy changes. It's time for the women to come up on the dance floor. There’s a sharper rhythm now, hips and shoulders moving in practiced confidence, glittering fabric catching the light.Stacy is immediately swallowed by it.Her face lights up with so much enthusiasm. Her eyes are bright, hands lifted, body moving like she'd maste

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 173: The Dabke Dance

    Quincy The Al Thuraya Ballroom is everything you’d expect from a place meant to impress. Marble floors that gleam under the low, ambient lighting. Crystal chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling, their delicate glow casting a soft shimmer over the crowd. The space hums with energy, filled with businessmen in tailored suits, women in flowing gowns, all polished and perfect. Everything in here is designed to make you feel small, to remind you that you’re just a piece of the puzzle. Everything here is excess—luxury in the purest form.The air smells faintly of expensive perfume, mingling with the sharp tang of fresh flowers placed strategically along every surface. The whole room practically radiates wealth. Even the sound of clinking glasses and low laughter feels meticulously orchestrated. It's a picture of opulence that makes me feel both like I belong and like I’m suffocating.I don’t want to be here.I make my way to the far side of the room, keeping to the shadows, and settle

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 172: The Start of a Flawless Vacation

    Stacy’s POVFrom the moment I got the liberty of seeing Quincy after he was unlocked up, he started becoming a more toxic version of himself. One I had never seen before. One I never knew existed until recently.It hurts even more. After I'd woken him up from his nap. The stiffness of his face upon seeing me on the jet. It's hard for me to understand what the cryptic face was all about. It sure wasn't anger. It was definitely not surpris. It was somewhere in the path of resentment and absence.My ex-convict of a boyfriend llooked at me like I was furniture that had been moved while he was gone—familiar enough not to question, foreign enough to feel wrong. It's like his world stopped moving because he saw something…formidable. His eyes passed over me, through me, already somewhere else. And that hurt more than if he’d snapped, more than if he’d told me to get off his father’s jet. He held loose, a piece of paper when he was fast asleep. So, it was easy for me to take it from him. I k

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 171: Altitude

    Quincy My father's hangar engulfed me in the smell of metal and fuel. And I'm left with no choice but reminisce those times I had to rush from work straight to this same hangar for impromptu businesses meetings. Rafael and Marcus moved with practiced efficiency, speaking in low tones with the pilot while ground staff signaled and checked off invisible lists. Everything about it is precise and controlledI hovered a step behind them, hands shoved into my jacket pockets, watching my life get rearranged without me touching a thing.Once an inmate in a cubicle confinement, now a-Fuck it, though.Once I got off this jet, I decided, I’d take a shower. A real one. Let the heat beat the prison out of my bones. Then I’d change into something clean. Something that didn’t smell like borrowed fabric and borrowed time.Inside, the jet was obscene in the quietest way.Cream leather seats wide enough to disappear into. Soft lighting that didn’t buzz or flicker. A carpet so thick my boots sank sli

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 170: Detour

    Quincy Car rides are so exhausting.I know it's kind of ironic coming from someone who runs an international company.But it's part of the few things I've got to endure aside from the noise, hunger and discomfort Blackbridge taught me.I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes, exhaustion settling deep in my bones. It's been six months since I saw trees and modern buildings. I had watched them race backwards before I shit my eyes.By the time the car slowed and turned onto the narrow gravel road leading to the cemetery, my chest felt tight. The wrought-iron gates loomed ahead, familiar in a way that hurt. I hadn’t been here since the funeral. My father said it was better that way. He said it was so I could feel less… emotional.Guess what? I believed him.Always playing the good son.Well, not anymore.The car stopped. One of the guards opened my door, and cold air kissed my skin welcome-to-the-real-world. I stepped out slowly, legs stiff, heart pounding like I was abou

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