All Chapters of Cellblock Heat : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Edward Two things mattered today. Speaking to my son… and dealing with Myles, who is currently rotting in the basement I built with my own hands. He's strapped into a straitjacket, from his waist to his chest the same way he once had me strapped, except I’ve perfected the art. Mine isn’t medical-grade. Mine bites. It tightens when he breathes too deeply. It's the kind of restraint that doesn’t just hold motherfucker’s down, it humiliates him. That's a fair trade to me. He’s covered in bruises from the chase with my men. I didn’t go easy on him. Why should I? I handpicked the wildest of them, the ones who enjoy hearing bones crack the same way some people enjoy jazz. Myles thought he could outrun them. He couldn’t. And now, for my personal touch… I stationed two of my brute dogs at his feet. Massive creatures with jaws like steel traps. I commanded them to lick his wounds on his legs slowly, like he’s nothing but a salt lick for their amusement. The way he flinches at eac

My bunk didn't soothe me. That's why I'm seated on the floor beside the bunk, knees tucked to my chest, palms clasped loosely in front of me, staring into the same corner I’d been staring at for the last ten minutes.I wasn’t even thinking, not really. Just… unraveling. Letting the conversation with my dad replay on loop until the edges blurred.And in the spur of the moment, Jordan walked in. I didn't look in his direction.He might call me out on dodging him—even at the basketball tournament this evening. But it's his usual complaints that I've already gotten used to.Most times, I need him by my side, but thinking of the next step to go about all that I've heard today wouldn't work if he's all up in my face.That's the last thing he cares about as crashed down beside me like a meteor slamming into earth.The impact shook the floor.And my mood.He held something in each hand, and before I could even look up properly, he shoved one of them toward me.“Quid pro quo,” he flagged it

Quincy Bill had offered me this private room to meet with my lawyer, Atty. Houston.He called it a form of sympathy, but I knew better. He maybe, or truly is one of the people who's wrapped around my Dad's finger. Since the time the first and last time I spoke to my Dad on the phone, I got most preferential treatments. The guards had stopped giving me strenuous yard duties. Ramos was off my throat.My meals were served pretty... warm.I don't see this swift changes as kindness.It's not genuine compared to Jordan's.I sat in this little space with no cuffs biting into my wrists. No guards eavesdropping. it's just me, my lawyer, and the steady hum of the air conditioner fighting for relevance.Atty. Houston sat across from me, posture stiff, hands folded on the briefcase perched between us like it was a peace offering.I didn’t speak at first.I wanted to be precise, and that required silence. He seemed to know me well enough not to break it.“So,” I said finally, after a seven sec

Jordan “I was asked to come get, my cellie, Laurent. Offer Bill sent for him.”That was the big ass lie I told a few guards when they asked why I was in the infirmary with the no handcuffs, or severe injuries that needed attention.Actually I was here because I lost sight of Quincy in yard. From the large window view of the warehouse, I watched him sulking. Probably over whatever his lawyer might have probably said to him. I wanted to take a damn break to go meet him on the bleachers, but the meathead of a guard, who was inspecting us, wouldn't let me.So when I'd wrapped up with the yard duty, I made it past every guard who asked, telling them the warden asked me to fetch Richie rich.They bought the lie without a second thought.My question was thrown to most staff who had asked why I was in here.“So, where is he? Laurent.”I called him by the name he was mostly known as around here.They all led me to Anaba's office—which I wasn't comfortable with. The knot in my stomach tighten

Edward It's been three months since I laid eyes on my wife's smile. And just like I had promised, I've got good news to share with her. About our son. I should have been visiting her often, and it's not really because it hurts in ways that gnaw my bones. It's because I don’t like letting anyone see me this way. Soft. Pathetic. All the most, sad. Today's quite different. Which is why I planned a night's visit. The convoy rolled through the gates as if we owned the place. Yeah, this time, I chose to come in a convoy. As much as I hate too much public audience, I have been the talk of the city since my abduction. I did make a few fake speeches about my abductor escaping the crime scene. Meanwhile, his organs were getting digested in the stomach of my dogs. The government ensured they'd find Mic and bring him to justice. Of course, I let them carry out their shit blindly. My men walked behind me in a quiet procession, one holding the urn which contained the ash of Myles