All Chapters of Cellblock Heat : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Quincy I sat on the edge of the bunk, elbows pressed into my knees, my shirt tugged halfway up my chest as if exposing myself might make the evidence vanish. Fun fact: It didn’t. The skin told the story better than I could—red and purple blooms along my ribs, my collarbone, the inside of my arm. Hickies. His teeth. His mouth.He devoured every inch of me he could reach, while I just stood there, taking all of it. And what scares me the most is that at that moment, I couldn't get enough of it. I let my heart take control, and my brain—my senses were knocked out. I let my head fall forward into my hands. Every time I thought I could shove the memory into some dark corner of my mind, it came back whole—his breath hot against my throat, his hand at the back of my neck, the pressure of his body pinning me in that dusty warehouse. I remembered how it felt in the moment—how my pulse had surged, how some shameful part of me had leaned into it.It was nice. Too nice.But now—now it burned.I

ElleThe soft hum of the hospital machines had become my lullaby. I hated it, but it was the only rhythm sustaining me, the only sound keeping me alive—alive enough to hold on for Amara, alive enough to hope that I might see my brother again before it was too late.My fingers trembled against the edge of the blanket, the tremors always worse when exhaustion crept in. Dysmetria—the doctors named it like some foreign curse, and perhaps that’s what it was. I had been diagnosed only weeks before Jordan was locked up, and now it had only grown worse. My balance was gone, my coordination betrayed me, and on my darkest days, my mind frayed until everything blurred together. But none of that compared to the guilt that lived inside me.The guilt of silence. The guilt of ignoring Jordan’s calls when he needed me most. And when I finally did answer, my words were sharp, cruel. Not because I hated him—no, never that—but because I was already disappointed in the wreckage of my world, and most of a

Jordan “Why aren’t you moving?” The guard standing beside me impaled the silence that pulsed around us like a quiet, hulking beast. It’s been minutes since I left the ward Elle was in. I had lost the ability to move from the floor that I’d stayed on since I left Elle. Most of me still clung to her, like wet clothing plastered against her skin. It’s too soon to leave her behind. The sad look that lingered in her eyes when she bid me goodbye—like she thought she’d never get to see me again—still sat heavy on me. My eyes were fixed on the floor, which reflected the fluorescent bulbs in the ceilings. My breath was shallow. I didn’t even notice when I slid down to the hospital floor, my boots scraping against the tile. I just sat there, staring at nothing, thinking about a little girl I never met, but already felt in my blood.The guard stalked toward me. “What the fuck is this, Vex? Get your shit together, let’s head back to Blackbridge.” He shifted his gun when he saw I was unmoving. I

Jordan The van rattled to a stop, brakes squealing like a dying animal. The hum of the engine cut, and silence dropped thick. I sat still. The chains and cuffs were back on me, chained to my waist, ankles cuffed so tight they could’ve been welded. My body was calm. But inside? Inside was a cage full of fury trying to tear its way out.Not the loud kind. Not the type that makes you bark or shake against the chains. Nah. The quiet kind. The kind that simmers, waiting, watching, biding its time until it burns down everything around it.I kept my eyes forward, my chin tilted slightly. Don’t let them see the twitch, don’t let them smell the smoke. Rage stays locked up where I say it stays. That’s the rule. The one I invented.The rear doors swung open. The evening sun slashed across my face, and the first thing in my line of sight was the wired fence surrounding the yard. I breathed in deeply. It felt as though my second apprehension. Only this time, I was conveying so much weight in my h

Jordan It's light out there's still no sign of Preppy. Even the good Lord knows how patient I've been after going ten hours without seeing him in my line of sight.I’d walked into the cell expecting his stiff posture, his neat little pile of folded sheets, maybe even his silent glare like I was the plague he couldn’t shake. But the place looked like someone had vacuumed him straight out of existence. Just steel, shadows, and a silence that scraped down my spine.I told myself he could’ve been on infirmary duty, or maybe locked up in Ice for mouthing off—hell, I even told myself he finally grew some balls and picked a fight he couldn’t finish.But the air in here was wrong. It felt like a secret with teeth.At shower time, I got my confirmation.The second I stepped into the line of spraying rust-water, I caught them—those looks. Not from one guy, but from a few, scattered like ticks. Quick glances, sideways smirks, eyes that slid off me too fast. Like they knew something I didn’t.I