Beast: Part Two by Ella James Read Free Book Online

Rosa.
    Of all the point guys, he’s the one I know the best. Although I know the world would be better off without him at the helm of a large terrorist organization, I’m kind of glad it’s not him I’m doing in tonight. Fucker is funny and we share an appreciation for Marlon Brando’s acting.
    Like me, McGuire is segregated from the general population. He stays in a two-story cement penthouse at the end of the Aryan hallway. It’s a decent enough space, and it comes with a private shower. Unlike me, McGuire hates his private shower. He’s never been so direct with me, but my impression is he was raped in the shower as a kid. So unbeknownst to almost everyone, he showers in the Aryan communal room around three o’clock in the morning, when a white power guard named Tom lets him out of his cell and escorts him to the ‘stalls.’
    This means that by two a.m. tonight, I need to be in Fred Burns’ cell, smacking tape over his mouth, tying rope around his ankles and wrists, and hauling him off to my own cell, where he’ll wait under Clinton’s watchful eye until I’ve finished off his boss. There, he’ll be in the ideal position for indoctrination—indeed, for ordination—by yours truly.
    Tasks like this are few and far between, but lately, my superiors are beginning to seem antsy. I haven’t figured out exactly why, but I don’t like it.
    I’ve got a ritual I do before something like this. Showering and meditating and reading from the Bible. I know it’s fucked up, but since I’ve been here and started reading as much as I do, I fucking love the Good Book. Poetry of War, they might have called the Old Testament.
    When that’s done, I communicate via Bluetooth with the guards on staff tonight. Almost everyone at La Rosa is in my pocket, but there’re a few who aren’t. I can’t control them all, even with an outlandish amount of support from Holt and his junior wardens.
    So I have two of the ones I can control send the one I can’t out to grab some grub from a burger joint a few towns down.
    The signal I give them is: “I’m using my juice card.”
    I n prison-speak, that means I’ve got something to take care of, but I’m not going to tell them what. The guards may not know who I’m working for, but Holt’s immediate subordinate, Perkins, is tight with me, so instructions to support me trickle down.
    I nab Burns without incident, lock him in my cell, and make another call, this time only to Perkins, the interim warden who knows my secrets. Perkins doesn’t know my real situation, but he knows I’m in charge here. Doesn’t hurt that I pay his mortgage and bought his mistress a Mercedes.
    “Back door parole for McGuire,” I tell him. “Hold the bugs.”
    After a brief hesitation, he says, “You got it , Beast.”
    As I leave my room, I think how sick it is. The way people just…bend to me. Because I pay them, or do them favors. I shouldn’t be allowed to do what I’m about to do. Not without more trouble. It seems somehow doubly unjust.
    I find McGuire in the showers. He ’s hunched over, like he’s washing his legs. He knows something is wrong when he sees my face, and immediately straightens up. He takes a few steps back, inching closer to a soap dish where I imagine he keeps a shank or other weapon.
    It’s pretty obvious he’s reaching behind himself, but still, he casts his eyes down as a sign of respect for me, as if everything is normal. I close the gap between us quickly. I step into the cool spray and clamp a hand on his shoulder.
    “ Get down on your knees, McGuire.”
    They call this going Prison Wolf, and it’s not something I get off on. But I’ve done it a time or two, and I’ll do it again now, because if I can get his lips around my cock, I can stab him in the base of his head, and he’ll go fast and painless.
    Unfortunately, my guess seems to’ve been correct about his history with bathing. Rather than suck my dick in a shower, McGuire goes for his own shank.