All Chapters of Cellblock Heat : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

QuincyI never realized how loud silence could be until Jordan was gone.It’s been four days.Four days without him breathing beneath me on the bottom bunk.Four days without that god-awful humming he does after lights out.Without him mocking my posture or tossing a protein bar at my head when I skipped breakfast.Four days in a cell that feels colder now.It’s not like we talked all the time. Hell, most days we barely spoke unless one of us needed something. But there’s something about his presence—loud, unfiltered, alive—that filled the space.In his absence, the walls feel tighter. The ceiling lower. My thoughts louder.He had his own brand of humor that distracted me from the fact that I’m all alone here.Now that he’s been placed in another cell—now that my distraction is gone—I’m left with a rush of wild, heart-wrenching thoughts.Dad, going ghost on me.Stacy, disappearing like Aang.And it’s worse at night.I read the same page of my book five times last night. Couldn’t tell

JordanTik.Tok.Tik…The sound of the cellmate brushing his goddamn teeth was dissolved into the background, making the ticking of the watch in my hand only audible. Because that was the only sound I wanted to hear.The mornings are getting dull…. since the Underground Cell. The last time I felt unguarded, unshielded, was the time I my fist plunged into Roach's face. Feeling his bones crack under my knuckles. The way his face distorts after every blow delivered.The way his blood stained my face as I reformed him. Fuck.Shit like that gets me rock hard faster than my cellmate in tight briefs. Shh, you didn't hear me say that.Yep, so back to the reason I held the watch in my hands, an idea spiralled in my head and I thought of playing out. I'm back to the normal me, not the one Quincy will look like and feel he's gonna snap as I dried stick will.In the case of putting my thoughts…plans, rather, into action, I was gonna make use of Mr goodie to shoes.For the record, Quincy Laur

JordanIt’s just past lights-out when the hum of the prison dies down and the world inside our little cage softens.That’s my favorite part of the day. Not because I’m some poetic asshole who finds beauty in silence—I hate silence, honestly—but because that’s when the wolves curl their tails, the predators sheathe their teeth, and even the cold concrete feels less judgmental.It’s also when I can stop being Jordan Vex, the walking warning label, and just be the guy who didn’t sleep last night because he kept thinking about the way his roommate licked honey off his thumb at lunch.Shut the fuck up. It was distracting, okay?Like any other night, Quincy would wrap himself in his thin blanket, reading that lame ass novel I got for him with Ray Ray’s help in compensation for the shit I had gotten him into. It feels so good to soil his perfectly clean record. He's just too clean to be in here, and sometimes I feel the need to ask why he was in here with the rest of us. Like the actual re

QuincyThere are days you forget you’re in prison.Days when the sky outside the bars turns gold, and the wind that cuts through the cracks in the concrete walls smells like freedom. Days when a laugh lasts more than a second. When their food almost tasted like something other than punishment.Today was not one of those days.Today was the opposite.I was still restricted. Still locked out of yard time. Still branded as the idiot who got caught smuggling. Still hearing whispers from the other inmates that had me clenching my fists under the sheets.I knew Jordan did what he did for me. And I hated him for it.Hated that he made me feel safe.Hated that I needed that safety in the first place.Because now, every sideways glance in the cafeteria came with a smirk. A knowing smirk. A ghost whispers.“That’s Vex’s boy.”“Jordan’s little project.”“Wonder what he gives him in return.”I was gonna ignore them.I would try.I tried to focus on my book while I stuffed mashed potatoes—that ta

Edward Flashback Scene – Quincy's Sentencing DayThe courtroom was cold—chilling in the way grand halls always are when they hold the weight of a man’s future in their silence. The marble walls, the creak of benches, the impersonal shuffle of papers… all of it grated against my skin like sandpaper.But nothing—nothing—felt more suffocating than watching my son walk in wearing that navy suit and a face far too brave for someone so young.Quincy didn’t look at me. Not once. His chin was high, just as it would be when he's laying out his smart ideas in the boardroom. His shoulders squared, like he’d already accepted whatever fate the court had to hand him. I should’ve admired his strength and courageousness. But all I saw was my own spawn tearing down in his insides. was the consequence of my cowardice. It was Quincy normalcy to always appear calm. For the press. For the media. But I, who had nursed him since his mother passed, I could see far beyond the steel face. I'm staring right p