He laid in with his fists, every thud and slap making his blood boil even more, his teeth grind harder. He thought whaling on the piggy would help him feel better, but it was doing the opposite. Maybe it was ‘cause the fat fuck didn’t make noise anymore, just grunted quietly and got on with it. With a hiss, he landed one more, on the fleshy part of the shoulder, and was rewarded with a squeak, then stood back, leaving him to weep on his bunk.

He turned and looked out of the bars, at the grey wall opposite. The prison was quiet today, no one in the mood for talking. Lucky for them. Why was he so pissed?

It had been a deal, a fair deal, done the way these things were. They should have accepted that, moved on, let it be. Now an innocent man was chilling in the morgue, three prisoners were in isolation, and the book was gone, hidden somewhere waiting for when those three fuckers got out.

They’d go back to court, but they were scum, they weren’t going anywhere, anyway. Why steal the book if you knew what your future was gonna be? He pushed away from the bars, his face pulled in a grimace, then punched them, the sharp pain cutting through the haze.

They would need to be punished. It was his deal. If they started to think they could get away with queering, things would become difficult, very quickly. He turned away from the door and pulled his phone out. Maybe Thomas could help with this as well.

The buzz took longer to come this time, but when it did, his grimace rose into a smile that carried no humour, and plenty of intent. When lights-out ran around the prison, and the darkness descended, his door slid open, revealing Guard Mathis with his hat pulled down over his face. Haran spoke in a whisper.

“Good evening, Mr Mathis, fancy meeting you here.”

The guard replied with a grunt, then nodded with his head down the corridor and set off, Haran in pursuit. The trip to isolation was short, and involved more stairs than he’d done in a while. It felt nice to move around the prison, like he owned it. He could squint and imagine the guard in front of him was a figment, that he was prowling the corridors alone. They arrived before the first door and the guard began to tap on the pad.

“Who is it?”

Mathis looked at him, his faced closed off.

“Does it matter. It’s one of ‘em. I’ll give you five minutes.”

The door slid aside and he stepped in, flexing his wrists. His work on piggy that morning had got him warmed up, given him a taste for it. The door slid shut behind him and he stood for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Then the light flicked on, and he squinted in the brightness. His grin got wider. This was the big iso room, and stood in front of him, wearing smiles nearly as big as his, were all three of the scum that had killed Mo. Mathis’ voice came through the door.

“What, you think we wouldn’t take this opportunity, Acuna? You’re bad news.”

He heard his feet stomping away down the corridor, leaving him and the three men. He clenched his fists.

Next installment, Wednesday 31st July