RICK'S POV

"Ortega!"

I startle, turning over on the uncomfortable bed. My ears ring with the sound of the nearby guard yelling my last name.

My cell mate grumbles something from the top bunk and I wince, standing abruptly as the guard who's yelled comes to stand by my cell door.

Walking the few steps to where the guard stands, the man narrows his icy eyes at me, taking in my pathetic state.

I stare back boldly, having learned that appearing weak makes myself more of a target.

The guard nods to his buddy and the cell door opens with a loud creak. The electricity powering the doors unable to hide the unoiled hinges.

I immediately have a gun trained on me as I step into the hall. The guard juts his chin towards the direction of visitation.

"You got a visitor Ortega, now move it!"

My eyes widen in surprise along with the rest of the prisoner's who are in the cells around me and have heard the announcement.

It's past visitation hours.

A ball of dread settles in my stomach as I pray that this certain visitor isn't who I think it is.

The prisoners around me begin to shout out things as I pass.

"What's wrong, did mommy come visit the poor little boy!"

Glaring at the man who's said this, I give him a one fingered salute, which I instantly regret as the man returns the favor and draws a finger across his neck.

I continue to walk, gulping.

Well going to prison and dying prematurely has always been on my bucket list...

Damn, looks like Reagan's sarcasm has rubbed off on me after all these years.

Reagan, I wonder what she's doing.

Before I can dwell on that further we pass more guards and shortly after enter visitation. The heavy doors slam shut behind me and the guard.

I'm puzzled to find the room empty as I look around. I stop walking and the guard shoves me forward.

He directs me to a table which is next to one of the drab gray walls. Getting out a pair of metal handcuffs, he attaches one side to my wrist and the other to the railing running along the wall.

Satisfied with his work he leaves and the sound of the door closing behind him is all I hear before silence.

Why had he just left me here alone?

I take my chance to look around the room, never having been here before. I realize that there are no windows and the room is like a big box, a simple square shape with tables and chairs scattered around the room. Everything is bolted to the floor or the wall, making it impossible to pick up or move anything.

Staring at the scratched surface of the white table I'm sitting at, my free hand begins to drum a frantic beat on the table top.

Minutes pass and I wonder whether there's been some sort of mistake.

The door opens and for a moment I think that it's the guard coming back.

Turning towards the person who's entered I clench my hands into fists.

"Ricky boy, prison hasn't been treating you well I see."

Sterling comes to sit down across from me and grins. He shakes his head at the stubble on my face and mussed up hair. The bruises I've acquired have begun to fade but are still visible and I see that he doesn't overlook them.

Sterling looks as though he's on his way to a business deal. His hair is gelled and the black suit that hangs off him looks as though it cost hundreds of dollars. As I look at his face though I see that he appears to have aged since the last time I've seen him.

There's a tightness in his face and a cold glint to his eyes that makes him look older than his twenty three years.

I glare at him and cut to the chase. If it's one thing I know, Sterling doesn't just pay me visits because he misses me.

"Why are you here?"

Sterling claps his hands and amusement replaces the ice in his eyes.

"Ah, right to the point! Well I wasn't looking forward to delivering formalities anyway."

He pauses and my fists clench with impatience.

"Ricky, there's been a slight...problem. You see I thought I told you to keep your precious sister out of this and that if you do, she won't get hurt."

My brows knit together in confusion as my heart leaps with fear at the mention of Reagan.

What the hell is he talking about?

Sterling lets out a choked laugh at the sight of my confusion.

"Oh this is rich! You don't know do you?"

Oh no.

"Know what?" I grit out.

He folds his hands together in his lap and a deadly calm expression takes over his face.

"Why Ricky, your dear sister is here in Chicago as we speak and she's running around determined to prove your innocence."

My heart stutters to a stop and I strain against the handcuffs. The cuff chafing against the smooth skin of my wrist.

I knew something was wrong when I spoke to her! How could she be so reckless!

Sterling stands an infuriating grin on his face. I jump to my feet and step towards him as far as the cuff will allow.

"If you lay one hand on her!" I threaten.

He smirks, before shaking a finger at me as though scolding a small child.

"Ricky, I don't think you're in a position to make any threats."

I stay silent, realizing he's right.

There's nothing I can do for Reagan.

The thought makes rage surge through me and defeat.

Defeat.

I have one job. To protect Reagan and I'm doing a lousy job with that.

Sterling continues, triumph oozing off him now.

"Reagan won't get hurt...as long as she doesn't stick her nose where it doesn't belong."

Shit.

Reagan is smarter than she gives herself credit for. If anyone can get to the bottom of what's happening it's her.

I don't speak and Sterling cocks his head at me as though daring me to say something.

Suddenly the shrill sound of a cellphone ringing cuts through the deathly silence.

Sterling pulls out a sleek silver phone from his pocket and answers it.

"Sterling."

Someone speaks on the other side and Sterling begins to pace, running a hand through his dark hair.

There's more talking from the person on the line and Sterling abruptly halts his pacing.

He slams his fist into a nearby table.

"She what!"

The table shakes under the force of his hit and I back away slightly.

Wait, she?

"I'm coming, keep things under control. You better fix this Gunner! Or else..."

The unfinished threat hangs in the air as Sterling turns to me, ending the call.

"Seems Reagan's gotten a bit too curious. You better hope that my father is in a lenient mood."

He turns to go, tossing a victorious grin my way. I make to follow him before I'm yanked back by the cuff around my wrist.

I curse and shout after Sterling, my voice echoing around the room. The door slams closed and I sag in defeat. Seconds later the guard comes back and unlocks the handcuffs before pointing his gun at me once more.

He smirks at my face which is flushed from yelling and I almost take a swing at the guard's repulsive face. Holding myself back, I take a shaky breath.

I can't afford to draw attention to myself.

I'm led outside of visitation and am so distracted by my thoughts that I don't realize we're outside until the cool night air hits my face.

I frown at the sight that greets me.

All the prisoners are gathered in the courtyard, guards surrounding them, guns held towards the mass, ready to fire at the slightest provoking.

"What's going on?" I wonder out loud, shutting my mouth as the guard shoves his gun into the small of my back.

"Shut up!"

I'm pushed towards the other prisoners and left there under the watchful eyes of all the guards.

I begin to sweat as all the body heat and anxiety begins to take a toll on me.

"They're searching cells," I catch a man grunt from beside me to the men near him.

I sigh in relief. I have nothing to hide.

"Alright men!"

My ears perk up at the voice and I recognize the deep grumble to be the warden's.

I can't see him over the crowd but can easily hear his loud voice echo through the courtyard and into the cloudy night sky.

"Back to your cells!"

The men mutter most with relief and begin to walk back towards the building. Shuffling my feet in the dried out grass, I walk at the end of the horde of prisoners not wanting to catch an elbow to the face.

Rounding a corner, I'm suddenly grabbed by the arms and yanked into a room.

What the heck!

I'm released and I stumble, trying to find my balance.

The only light in the room is a dim overhead light-bulb and as my eyes slowly adjust to the low lighting I back up.

There are six men in the room along with me and one of the men is a guard.

The broad guard has his hand on his gun but otherwise looks at ease. I'm unable to make out his face which is mostly hidden with shadows.

The other five men are prisoners and they glare at me.

I recognize one of the men as a guy known as Knox. His bald head, football build, and distinct tattoos make him easy to identify.

I've tried to stay out of his way, I'd heard the other prisoners talking that if you got on his bad side you wouldn't live long enough to regret it.

Knox steps towards me and I resist the urge to step back.

"So pretty boy, I heard you went to Harvard."

My jaw drops slightly and I close it, that is not what I was expecting.

How in the hell does he know that.

Knox chuckles at my reaction, obviously pleased.

"Listen boy, I got connections in here. I know everything 'bout everyone. So I'm only going to say this once."

I raise my chin, my bravery slowly starting to make an appearance. If they're going to beat me up or threaten me then I can at least keep my dignity.

Knox nods to the rest of the guys in the room.

"Me and my guys here are serving life and that don't exactly fit in with our plans."

He grins and the scar running down the side of his face twists into a grimace.

"So you, my boy, are going to break us out of this hell hole."

What?

I blink at him, shocked.

Knox takes a step forward until we're practically touching chest to chest. He grips my arms.

"Do you hear me boy?"

I nod, still too stunned to speak.

"Good. Now if you cooperate with us then you'll be buying your own ticket to get out of here. But if you squeal, we'll kill ya before ya can even think about being outside these walls. Understood?"

I nod again, beginning to feel like a bobble-head.

Looking over at the guard, I'm wary.

Knox noticing the direction of my stare, grunts out a laugh.

"That's Cruz, he works for me."

Still distrustful, I look around at the other guys before meeting Knox's hard stare.

"Now boy, are ya in or are you out."

If I can get out of here, I can get to Reagan.

Knox extends his hand and I reach out to shake it.

"I'm in."

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So I want to know what you guys think, did Rick make the right choice to accept the offer?

A/N

Alright so I don't usually do A/N's but...

It's been a looooong time since I've updated and it feels good to get a chapter finally out there! I'll be doing a lot of editing with this chapter so this isn't set in stone. Anyway, as always I'm so grateful for everyone's support! It means the world! School has just ended for me so I'll have more time to write! Yay!

I hope everyone is doing well! Have an awesome day or night :)

Lots of Love <3 <3 <3