Wrath

JakeThe corridor was a narrow, sterile hallway behind the courtroom. The paint on the walls was a dull beige. He stared at those walls for so long, the color blurred and morphed into something foreign, something he couldn’t even name. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The floors were worn linoleum, smelling faintly of bleach, sweat and stale coffee, a scent that made his stomach churn. The Bailiffs and correction officers moved inmates in chains, impatient, short-tempered, and callous. Radios crackled on their belts. It was all familiar. The small concrete room, a cell of maybe 8 by 10 feet, with a metal bench bolted to the wall, kept Jake locked inside. It was routine by now. The smells, the sounds, it was all the same. He recognized the dead look in other prisoners’ eyes, the same dead look he had. Hope was a dangerous thing, it bloomed bright in your chest, only to twist into darkness, into something dangerous until you gave up, until there was nothing left to take, and it lef

JakeJake parked his truck at the gas station and climbed out. He stretched his arms over his head and started pumping gas into his truck. He’d been driving for hours, and he was on the outskirts of the city. He rubbed his hands over his face and watched the black SUV as it pulled in at the pump next to his.The Chinese man that exited the car looked around wearily. He was nervous, jittery and he looked guilty as hell. Jake couldn’t help but keep watching him. He didn’t need any more bullshit and he hoped this guy wasn’t a tweaker intent on robbing the store.In prison, he’d learned how to read people, situations, and he could smell trouble a mile away. This man was trouble. He had no problem killing. His aversion to blood had been rectified in the small cells he’d lived in for the past 5 years.The man looked around again and walked inside the store. Jake looked toward the SUV when he heard a noise. A small face was pressed against the rear window, mouth taped shut and his hands boun

JakeHours later, Jake pulled into the driveway of his new house in West Reading, Pennsylvania. He’d chosen it for a reason. He had debts to repay, debts that didn’t cost money. He’d made friends in prison, friends that had saved his life.Jake climbed out of his truck, and stretched his arms over his head. The house was a single story, not much to look at, and situated at the end of the cul-de-sac. The house definitely needed work, but it’s what he wanted. He needed something to occupy his time while he made his next moves.He’d eaten on the road and bought basic groceries when he’d entered Reading. He wasn’t hungry, just tired and he really wanted a hot shower. He grabbed everything he’d brought with him and lugged it up to the house.The inside of the house was bare, except for a king size bed in the master bedroom. He’d take his time to furnish the house because he wasn’t planning on moving soon. Reading would be his new home. The house had potential, but it was something he’d wor

JakeHe was going for round two and he knew he wasn’t finished for the night. He’d stopped drinking hours ago and the sweat clinging to his body was from sex alone. The woman started whimpering again, moving her ass backward against his groin and when her orgasm exploded around his cock, he let go and ejaculated.“Fuck,” Jake said, as he pulled out of her and rested his arms on the bed and took deep breaths. The woman fell to her side and pulled her legs up.Jake disposed of the condom, and cleaned himself up in the attached bathroom. The rooms of the clubhouse were nice, not hotel room nice, but anything beat a jail cell. He splashed cold water on his face, and walked back into the bedroom.“You’re insatiable,” she said, her voice sounding a little breathless.“I’m not done yet,” he said, and lay down on the bed next to her.“Fuck that,” she said, and clambered off the bed. She grabbed her clothes and pulled the door open. “I’m not keen on a swollen pussy for days. You fuck like a ba

Jake“This is Melanie,” Bandit said as he introduced Jake to the house mouse.“You can call me Jake,” he said in return.She was a pretty girl, barely nineteen. She was curvy, had long blonde hair and when she smiled at him, he could see the resemblance to Rancid. It was because of him that he’d agreed to do this, he owed Rancid and he’d look after his sister.Surprisingly, Bandit hadn’t called him to pick her up earlier. It was Friday afternoon and they were at the clubhouse. Melanie had three suitcases and two boxes and it all went onto the bed of the truck. She turned and hugged Bandit.“Thank you for taking me in,” she said.“Gotta thank Jake for that, Mel. He was with your brother up in New York, and now he’s taking you in,” Bandit said.Melanie said her goodbyes and Jake lifted his hand at the gate when he drove away from the clubhouse. She didn’t seem overly concerned about The Night Stalkers. Jake had done his research too. They were notorious for being involved in the flesh t