The two were indisputably brothers — but stating that they looked exactly alike had been a lie. Actually, he couldn't think of two inmates more different. Shades had been untouchable. Not a single threat bothered him, a provoking grin had always curled his lips upwards and he was all confidence. The look in his eyes had always been calculating, his voice mocking, always meant to draw others out. 

Isaiah had always admired him for his attitude. Many nights he had fantasized how it would be to share a cell with him, how demanding his voice would sound when he whispered in his ear the things he wanted Isaiah to do. Fingers gliding across heated skin, lips searching for pleasure in the darkness, heavy breathing drowning out all others sounds... 

It had always remained a fantasy. Shades had never shown any interest in him, nor had Isaiah known how to show his own interest. After all, he didn't want everyone to know that he liked men. In prison there was always this absurd thought that gay people would want to have sex with literally everyone. Well — nothing could be further from the truth. He was really picky and except for Shades, nobody around here had attracted his attention. 

He knew all about the whispers. That Shades had slept with cellmate. That the man had been his lover. Whether it was true, Isaiah had never found out. There were many rumors going around, especially about a man like Shades. He seemed to thrive in gossip — the more the better. The more lies were spread about him, the harder it was to unravel the truth. The ex-con was cloaked in mystery. When the man turned out to have a twin, Isaiah had been barely surprised. Nothing could surprise him concerning Shades. 

He aimed his attention back to Juice. Because of his mohawk and tattoos on his head he looked like someone who wanted to look tougher than he actually was. Contrary to his brother, he didn't possess a shred of confidence, as he was sitting on the bed all cramped up. Isaiah was sure he would have wrapped his arms around himself if he had been alone. He was broken, his life must have been hard. Some had the strength to become stronger — others didn't. 

Juice's brown eyes showed nothing but confusion. The knowledge that he had a brother was obviously hard to swallow. Although he had been scared at first, there were other emotions flickering in his eyes now. Incomprehension. Anger. 

The man leaned forward, rubbing his face, mumbling inaudible words. 

Isaiah let him be. He felt the urge to swing an arm around his shoulders, feeling how close his tears were. Yet, he hadn't forgotten how the men had tensed when he had touched him a couple minutes back, and from all the other things Juice had said he concluded that he hadn't been protected in the prison he was coming from. It wasn't hard to imagine what would happen to a pretty boy like him. Even when Shades managed to get him out, it would probably take a lot of time before his brother had dealt with his traumas. 

"Who is he?" Juice's voice sounded hoarse when he suddenly started to talk again. "I don't get it — how can he have the power to move me to this place? And — and why? Why now? If I had known I had a brother, things would have been so different... Then they would never have... then I never would have..." A sob escaped his lips. 

Again, it took Isaiah a hell of an effort not to wrap his arms around the crying man. Instead, he decided to talk to distract him. "His name is Shades. I don't know his real name. To be honest I don't know much about him at all — he is powerful, he has the right connections... But how he did it, I can't tell you."

Juice sniffled quietly, wiping his eyes. "Someone had already promised to kill me. All this — all this should have been over. I thought... I thought to have found peace now. What use do I have when I'm in prison? I don't get it... I just don't get it..."

"You won't stay inside long, Juice," Isaiah told him. He offered his cellmate an encouraging smile when he looked him in the eye. "I'm sure your brother will get you out of this place within a month."

Incomprehension filled Juice's eyes. He was scared. Scared to hope and end up disappointed again. Very carefully, Isaiah laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"I don't know what horrible things you've gone through, but you're no longer on your own, Juice. Your brother will care for you, and as long as you're here I will be your friend."

"Why — why would you want to be my friend?" he muttered. 

"Because you look like a nice guy. You might not be able to see it yourself, but I do." He winked at him. "And my people skills never betrayed me."

Admitted — his motives were a little more selfish than he wanted Juice to know. A friendship with the man would guarantee that he would see Shades again — and maybe, Isaiah's care for his twin brother would lead to the fact that Shades would finally see him too. 

. . .

Isaiah was nice — really nice. 

Maybe a little too nice. 

Three days after Juice had arrived in Seagate, they spoke about former relationships and once again Isaiah casually mentioned that he felt attracted to him and that he wouldn't mind to get to know each other a little better physically. 

Juice had seriously considered it. After all, Tully had been the last one touching him and he couldn't wait to replace these memories. Isaiah was nice. He would be gentle. Juice might not feel attracted to men, but he did crave for loving touches, for warmth and security. Whether it was offered by a man or a woman, didn't matter much to him right now. He had been with many women without feeling anything for them. 

At the same time he was also afraid. Afraid that his body would freeze, that he would find himself back in Tully's cell. He knew he was traumatized — maybe he would never be able to have sex anymore. He had always enjoyed the warmth of a female body, even if it was just for one night, and the thought that Tully might have changed something in him that would increase his loneliness for the rest of his life, was suffocating. 

After a few days Juice reluctantly told Isaiah about Tully. The man wasn't stupid — he knew something had happened in Stockton. Ever since they met, Isaiah had respectfully turned his back towards him when Juice was changing clothes, even before Juice could consider if the fact that other men would see him half or completely naked bothered him. It made him trust his cellmate a little more. The conversations they were having went deeper, and at some point Juice just couldn't hold back anymore. It all came out. All the mistakes he'd made, the devastating consequences of them — and in the end, he cast his glance at the ground and told him about the monster his club had handed him to. 

"I can't believe those bastards did that to you," Isaiah said, shaking his head. "Some things you don't even do to your worst enemy — let alone someone you once loved."

Juice bent his head. "Their love was long gone."

"They will get what they deserve."

Confused, Juice looked up. "What?"

"You're closely related to one of the most infamous gangsters of Harlem," Isaiah answered. "You think Shades will let them get away? He will make them bleed from places they'll never thought to bleed from."

Juice flinched. "I don't want that," he muttered. He just wanted to start over, he just wanted to forget about his life in Charming. 

"He will be determined. His family is disgraced — and you're his only family. It will damage his reputation if he will leave this unanswered."

Juice stared at his hands. It was unbelievable that there was really someone out there who cared about his fate, who even wanted to avenge him. At most days, it all still was beyond his understanding. It all sounded to good to be true. He would have to wait and see...

. . .

On a Saturday morning, six weeks after his arrival, a guard told him to pack his stuff. Confused, he gathered his belongings. Would he really meet his brother today? Or had his brother came to his senses, realizing it was impossible to get a cop killer out of jail? His anxiety started to gnaw at him. What if he was sent back to Stockton? What if his brothers had learnt about his disappearance and demanded his head? 

He swallowed nervously. 

A hand landed upon his shoulder. "Don't worry," Isaiah said. "A whole new life is waiting for you, trust me. I'll get out in a few weeks, then I'll come to see you, okay?"

These words meant a lot to Juice. Since all his former friendships had ended in a cruel way, it had been hard to consider his cellmate as a friend. However, the man had been a great support the past weeks — he had felt a closer a connection with him than with anyone else in the past months, or maybe even years. The thought that their friendship wasn't one-sided, did him good. 

"Thank you for everything," he said softly, wrapping his arms around the man. "I would like to... stay friends."

Isaiah let go of him, squeezing his shoulder. "You can always write me," he winked. "If you can't live without me for another six weeks."

A small smile crossed Juice's face. He had never sent a letter to anyone. Maybe he would really do so. "Maybe I will."

The eyes of the man lighted up. Juice knew there hadn't been a lot of people visiting him the past weeks. 

They said their goodbyes, then Juice followed the guard. 

He felt sick with nervousness. Once Isaiah had told him about his brother's existence, he had expected the man to visit him during one of the visiting hours. It had never happened. The only things he knew about his brother, were coming from Isaiah and while he walked through the hallway, his anxiety flared up again. 

He was an idiot — believing that he had a brother who suddenly wanted to get to know him after thirty years. Of course he had no brother. For all he knew, Isaiah could have told him this to make sure he wouldn't kill himself. It surely was the mob who was waiting on the other side of the door; they still had a score to settle. 

His breathing fell heavier, his steps becoming more and more unstable. Dark spots danced before his eyes. Yet, he managed to drag himself through the hallway. 

A door slammed shut behind him. He was taken to a room where he finally got his own clothes back. It felt like he hadn't worn them in years. Feeling a little uncomfortable in his jeans he left the room. The guard led him to a counter where he had to fill in some forms. 

Once he laid down the pen, he took a deep breath. What now?

Questioningly, he looked at the guard. 

"You're free to go," he was told. 

Juice put his wallet away and shoved his hands in his pockets. Lost, he looked around. Where to go now? He took a few uncertain steps towards the exit. People were coming and going; nobody paid attention to him. 

With a swollen throat and shivering hands he left prison, his eyes squinting because of the bright sunlight. For a moment he stood still, taking a deep breath. Then he continued to walk towards the parking lot. Maybe he could take a cab — but to where? 

And then, he froze. 

There he was, at the beginning of the parking lot. Wearing a grey suit, he was leaning against the front of a black Escalade. His arms crossed in front of chest, the sun reflecting in his sunglasses. His shoulders tensed a bit, then the man slowly moved a hand to his shades and took them off. 

Juice stopped breathing when they stared each other in the eye.