Vegas Prison Stories Novels & Stories

"I don't want to be away from you and Gigi." My face got warm. I tossed him a bandage. "Even if you did, too bad. My hourly rate's insane now. I wouldn't have time for your case." Whenever I lost a case and couldn't shake it, he'd bring a beer and sit with me on the beach. He told me stories about people he'd met in prison. How low they'd fallen. How they'd clawed their way back. Even as an attorney, I'd never heard those stories from someone who'd actually lived it.

The conversation was overheard by a girl in a veil who happened to be passing between them, and she seemed familiar with the person they were talking about. “Anne...” *** Cape Charnevall Prison, East Vitania. This is a place for big-time criminals to languish behind bars. This place is very closed and rarely touched by the public. Its location itself is not known for certain by the public other than the big people in the royal capital of Sentralberg. The prisoners, who were mostly rebels, were treated cruelly here. They were forced to work with torture such as whipping and iron chains, were fed only once a day with very small portions, and had very short sleeping hours, making it the most cr

He was equally surprised that I was calling, and had a lot of stories to share, all of which I bore zero interest in. “Um – Noah, Noah, Noah… Sir, you’d have to give me a few minutes to peruse my files. This prison is full of many convicts that I can barely remember all their names. I only keep tabs with the crazy lunatics…” he said. He had a breathy gravelly voice that pictured him as a short man with a pot belly and a tiny mustache.

Sirens echoed across Vegas. Outside the casino, red and blue lights flashed wildly. The Vaughn couple, along with the son and daughter they had finally reunited with, were all shoved into police cars. Theft. Money laundering. Fraud. And child trafficking from twenty years ago. A family of four. Perfectly reunited. As Lucien was forced into the police car with his head pinned down, he kept staring at me. In those eyes that had once looked so untouchable and superior, there was only fear left now.

One week after Boston. After Ethan. After everything. We’re home. Safe. Together. Emma’s sleeping peacefully. Security posted. Threats eliminated. Vaughn’s in maximum security. Life sentence. No parole. No appeals. No chance. Vanessa’s serving five years. Federal prison. Assets seized. Trust fund frozen. Broken. Daniel Cooper, Sarah Chen, Thomas Reeves. All sentenced. All imprisoned. All defeated. Catherine Miller gave testimony. Full cooperation. No charges. Starting over in Portland. Really starting over.

"You’re going to break me out of a maximum-security prison?" "My people are already controlling the security feeds. A getaway boat is waiting at the north docks right now," Silas replied, his face completely serious. "You will leave this prison tonight. You will spend the next few days altering your appearance, learning your new background, and preparing your entry into high society." It sounded like a dream. It sounded like the miracle I had been praying for. But I was a prosecutor; I knew that every deal had a price. "Nothing in this world is free, Mr. Vance," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "What is the catch? What do you want from me?"

“I heard you went to juvie then prison. What happened?” I swallow hard not wanting to tell her I got caught prostituting on purpose so I could get in to kill a few gang members for the bosses. I was in for the job. “I…uh…I got caught offering illegal services. Dad kicked me out when I got arrested, so Jase and the guys rescue my stuff from the street. Jase moved me in with him. Then I was falsely accused of manslaughter, which is why I went to prison,” I mutter than last well-rehearsed line. All of it, rehearsed, kind of.

Honking cars, people chatting on their phones, a child running past with a bright laugh—it all felt like part of a world I no longer recognized. When an empty taxi slowed down near me, I got in without thinking. “Where to?” the driver asked, his voice indifferent, like he didn’t really care. I named an area where I remembered there used to be a cheap motel. I had no idea if the place still existed, but I had to start somewhere. As the car began moving, I let my back sink into the seat. Memories from five years ago flashed through my mind. My first fight in prison. The pain of a fist slamming into my jaw. The frustration of not being believed. Bernard Vaughn, the old man who sat against the w

"The worst part is the people inside. They are crazy! Even my cellmate is crazy!" "These people are murderers, robbers, and sexual offenders. I do not belong here! Moreover, It's so noisy. I can't sleep! I want privacy!" She pointed to her eyes and said, "See this! I have never had eye-bags before!" "Am I not paying you enough? You are not doing your job! Get me out of here, and do the same for my son!" She yelled in desperation. Fredrick was in another prison. As far as Tonet knew, his condition was worse because Fredrick was sharing a room with a group of ten criminals in one jail cell.

*** Joe walked solemnly to where Jared King was amidst the company of some scantily dressed women. His boss might be paralyzed but even a disabled man lusted for the finer things of life. Jared relished in the company of other women. “Boss.” He called. The seriousness behind Joe’s tone alerted him. “Go and grab some champagne.” Jared told them, slabbing one of the women’s derriere, making them all squeal like banshees in excitement. “A call came in from the Locks State Prison.” Joe delivered. “Pete Briggs has escaped from the facility for a couple of weeks now.”