Wrath
One of them pulled out a shiv, glinting in the sunlight.
Before the blade found Jake, a voice snarled from behind them. “Back the fuck off.”
The new man, massive, tattooed, wild-eyed and grinning barreled in like a storm. He grabbed the shiv-wielder by the wrist, snapping it sideways with a sickening crunch. Chaos erupted as sirens went off and guards started shouting around them.
Jake was dazed and bleeding, watching as the man fought like a mad dog, driving the other men back. For the first time since his sentencing, Jake realized that someone was willing to bleed for him, willing to have his back.