ENDLESS DARK (CHAPTER 16)
Title: ENDLESS DARK (CH16)
Pairing: Vam
Rating: No idea. Swearing, violence and PLENTY of n/c sex.
Disclaimer: It never happened, it never will, I don’t own the characters, blah blah blah. It’s pure, alt.universe action.
Summary: Ville made a mistake and now he's in a sinister correctional facility which seems to operate way outside the laws of the land. And guess who his cellmate is...
Notes: Am I a total pervert? I think the answer to that is a resounding YES!!
Feedback is SEX!
CHAPTER 16
Bam had not taken the news well and Ville chewed nervously at the nails on his right hand as he watched Bam pace - well, limp - the narrow cell like an injured, caged animal. There was something animalistic about Bam’s rage too; Ville could almost see it rising from him like a primeval cloud; raw, unbridled and very dangerous. He didn’t want to say anything to break the tension either, since seeing Bam so angry was oddly empowering. It gave Ville both strength and hope, and God knew he needed both.
He didn’t know how long he’d been in this tiny, cold room; but it seemed his whole world, ever since the failed escape, had revolved around this tiny, cold room. He’d woken up in here - after a fashion - drugged to the eyeballs; roused intermittently by the blurred shapes of people attending to him - changing the bandages on his leg, doing things to stop him pissing and shitting the bed, sticking needles in his arms and talking to him. Ville couldn’t comprehend what they were saying, didn’t really want to either, since he was quite happy floating along in his little drugs bubble and, as soon as the people were gone, he slipped right back into unconsciousness and a universe of wild, intense, super-real dreams.
Then things started to change. Gradually the world came back into focus and his thought processes stabilised. He’d figured out afterwards they’d probably eased up on whatever it was that kept him knocked out, though thankfully not on the painkillers. Ville knew his leg was still attached to his body since he could see it, and he could move it, but there was little to no sensation in it at all. Initially panicked, he’d asked the Doctor what was wrong with him, only to be told he was healing just fine and would be walking in next to no time.
Then Governor Jones had paid a visit. By this time the sleep-inducing drug was clear of Ville’s system and when he wasn’t sleeping naturally - which was most of the time - he’d felt pretty alert. Jones had made his entrance shortly after the Doctor had conducted one of his four-times-daily check ups. Doctor Thomas had never tried to take sexual advantage of Ville during his convalescence; not to Ville’s knowledge anyway. While a part of him cringed at what might have happened while he’d been unconscious, the more rational part of his mind told him Thomas would have got absolutely no satisfaction from feeling up an unconscious victim and he had to believe that. Nonetheless he cringed every time Thomas pulled back the bedclothes to examine him, uncomfortably aware that, apart from a pair of underpants and a bandage, he was naked. But Thomas had been nothing less than totally professional at all times, in spite of his leanings, in spite of the closeness of the gunshot wound to Ville’s crotch. However, he couldn’t help but remark at least once a day how he’d saved Ville’s life and how the patient should be eternally grateful to him for that.
Ville couldn’t find it in himself to be grateful for anything. The gunshot wound which had incapacitated him, the subsequent asthma attack which had nearly killed him, were direct results of the extreme measures employed by The Facility and they had only themselves to blame. At first Ville couldn’t quite believe they’d resorted to firearms at all, couldn’t believe he and Bam were important enough to warrant that. But the more he thought on it the more he realised how keeping The Facility a secret was worth killing for. Even if the dead person was an international rock star. Sometimes, when he imagined his former existence, Ville had to pinch himself as a reminder it was true. That life seemed so far away, so unreal that he had trouble believing he’d ever lived it. But hell, he WAS a rock star and he would be again. And God help all the fuckers working in this place when he finally got out and started talking.
But getting out was a long way off yet. How many extra months would The Governor award him for trying to escape? What other punishments and acts of sexual deviancy would he have to endure in the meantime? Would he still get to share a room with Bam? Would he ever get to see Bam again? Ville knew the absolute worst thing Jones could do was separate him from the one person in here that he trusted. Bam made him feel safe, protected and though he’d only known the guy a short time, he loved him like a brother. Jones could never know any of those things.
Ville hadn’t actually heard Governor Jones enter his medical cell. He’d been drifting back off to sleep when a cold hand on his shoulder brought him round with a start and a curse. Jones was sitting on the stool next to the bed, uncomfortably close and wearing a warm, almost paternal smile.
“How are you feeling Valo? The Doctor tells me you’re mending nicely.”
Ville sucked in a shaky breath and sweat broke out all over his near-naked body. He pulled the bedclothes tightly around himself and resisted the urge to cover his head with them - like a child protecting itself from the night terrors. He didn’t want to act like a pussy in front of this man but he was so weak, so useless, so badly compromised he knew he’d have no chance of defending himself should the Governor wish to get up close and personal. Instead Ville tried to cast his mind back to that day in the bedroom when he’d kicked the shit out of Jones’s unconscious form. The memory gave him a little strength but no real hope.
“Don’t be frightened Valo. I’m not here to hurt you, or do anything else. Not just yet. I’m going to ask you some questions and I want honest answers, do you understand?”
Ville stared at him and his mouth went dry.
“You look pale, Valo.” The Governor sounded smug and more than a little satisfied. “Not such a big shot, tough guy now, are you?”
“I’d like to see how you handle a bullet wound.” He spat back.
Jones shrugged. “You’re handling it well, Valo, I give you that, but only because you’re getting the correct medication. Without it your life would be a living hell, believe me!”
“It that a threat Governor?”
Ville managed to keep his voice even but his innards were quaking and part of his brain was screaming at how he’d probably just put a nasty idea into Jones’s mind.”
Jones smiled and crossed his legs, a picture of tranquility.
“I don’t make threats Valo, you should know that by now. I make promises.” He leaned forward slightly and Ville shrank away from the stale breath which caressed his cheek.
“I want to know who planned the escape Valo. I want to know who kicked the shit out of me while I was unconscious. I want to know whose idea it was to leave me on the bed like that!”
He meant business, Ville could tell that by the set of his jaw and the steely glint in his eye, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“How did you like bondage Governor? Was it everything you hoped for?”
It struck a nerve. The Governor’s right hand whipped out slapped Ville hard across the cheek. It stung but he was damned if he was going to let it show.
“That good, huh?”
The Governor looked as though he was about to punch him, and Ville braced himself for the impact, but then Jones seemed to remember where he was. He calmed down but his eyes narrowed dangerously. He leaned forward casually, placed his hand on Ville’s right leg, right on top of the gunshot wound, and squeezed. It was gentle enough, but enough to send pain shooting through Ville’s body, stabbing into his brain and setting every nerve ending jangling. The drugs, it seemed, weren’t powerful enough to prevent this. After all, they hadn’t been designed with torture in mind. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and Jones smiled.
“Who did it Ville? Tell me and we can avoid any more of this unpleasantness.”
What was he supposed to do? There was no way Ville could ever put Bam in the frame - even though the escape had been Bam’s idea - and there was no way he’d ever confess to kicking the Governor’s head in and tying him up on the bed, not if he wanted to live anyway. Which left only one option:
“Fuck you Jones,” he snarled “You don’t fucking scare me, you weasely little cunt!”
The grip on his injured leg tightened and the agony increased exponentially. Jones was saying something but Ville couldn’t make him out. All he could hear was pain and the sound of his own screams. Abruptly, thankfully, he passed out.
He’d awoken sometime later to an empty cell and a world of agony. His leg was throbbing and the bandage felt damp. Every new pulsation sent jagged shards of liquefied glass through his body and mainlining into his brain. The bedclothes and mattress were soaked in sweat and, when he’d lifted the blankets to look at his leg, he could see blood blotching the bandage.
Doctor Thomas had come into the cell sometime later, looking pale and pinched. He’d inspected the wound and visibly winced at what he saw. He wouldn’t meet Ville’s eye and then he stood up and actually turned his back on the patient as he said his piece.
“I’m sorry Valo, this goes against everything I stand for medically, but orders are orders. Governor Jones has instructed me to cut off your supply of painkillers until you see fit to give him the information he requires.”
“Tell him to go fuck himself”. The words were an automatic response. Ville neither meant nor felt them, but there really was nothing more to be said.
The Doctor turned slowly and gave him a look which encompassed guilt, pity and a lot more besides.
“Please Valo, do yourself a favour. You have no idea how it tears me up seeing a patient under my care forced to live in extreme pain. It’s a bad wound Valo. If it’s hurting now then believe me it’ll be ten times worse when we change the dressing. And we have to do that four times a day…”
“I’ll cope!”
The Doctor nodded. “You might feel differently tomorrow morning, my friend. I’m sorry...”
Then he was gone, leaving Ville to a night of torment.
It didn’t get any easier, never got any easier. Ville was certain he was healing because time was passing and that’s what time did wasn’t it? It healed the sick. But Christ it was hard. There was absolutely no let up from the pain day or night - if day and night even existed in this Godforsaken, windowless cell - it was all Ville had to accompany him. When they changed his dressing the guards had to pin him down on the bed, when they brought him food he puked it right back up again, he was always cold, always sweating, the pain made him hallucinate but the hallucinations didn’t stop the pain. He spent hours on end - or was it seconds - willing himself to pass out. A few times he’d smashed his head against the wall of the cell with enough force to achieve unconsciousness but, when he returned to the land of the living, all it gained him was extra pain. Ville felt like he was going insane; his mind was coming up with all kinds of bizarre, semi-coherent schemes to deal with the constant agony and, by the time of Governor Jones’s second visit, it felt as though he’d spent several months in hell.
“How are you feeling, Valo?”
Ville hadn’t been sleeping, hadn’t been unconscious, but somehow he hadn’t heard the Governor come in. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the grey face before him, but clarity of vision had deserted him a long time ago. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
The voice again.
“No need so speak, I can see for myself. The Doctor doesn’t like my methods Valo, and I take no pleasure from seeing you in this state. It’s only been two days boy, do you think you can keep it up for much longer?”
Ville’s heart was racing. Two fucking days? It felt like two years. Jones was right, he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. But neither could he put Bam in the frame. Jesus Christ!
He needed water. His throat was parched and dry. When he tried to speak it came out as a cracked whisper.
“If I tell you what we did, what will happen to us?”
Ville didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, so he listened hard, trying to determine Jones’ intentions by the tone of his voice.
“I thought you’d never ask”. Jones almost purred out the words. “It’s very simple you see. If it turns out Margera was the cause of this unpleasantness, we’ll make a public example of him. That’s after the guards have had their way with him for a few days. After that he’ll be brought before the whole Facility and publicly flogged. I think 20 lashes will be sufficient but he’s a strong boy. He’s probably good for at least 30.”
Ville’s innards quaked. If that’s what Bam was in for, what the fuck did Jones have lined up for him? His chest got tight and he heard himself beginning to wheeze. A moment later he felt the familiar sensation of an inhaler on his lips.
“Breath Valo,” the Governor’s voice was gentle. “I know you’d never willingly put your friend through that”.
The medication reached Ville’s lungs and his breathing evened out. He opened a bleary eye and tried to stare at the Governor.
“What happens if I confess?”
Jones smiled and he let the silence play out for a good long time. “You might have forgotten Valo, but you have a pretty important day coming up next week.”
Ville frowned. He had absolutely no idea what Jones was talking about.
“It’s your birthday Ville! You’ll be 25 years old and hell, you don’t want to spend it lying in a cell and feeling like shit, do you? All you need to do is tell me what really happened and I’ll make the day worth remembering. You’ll get painkillers, fancy clothes, fancy food, alcohol, cigarettes, television…”
Ville sensed there was a big ‘but’ coming.
“What’s the catch Governor?”
Jones smiled. “There’s no catch boy. I want you to have a good time that’s all. I want you to forget for one evening where you are.”
Ville managed to raise a sardonic eyebrow.
“I’m getting the night off? A night pass?”
The smile broadened. “You can’t leave the facility, Valo, you know that. But I can offer you the next best thing: an evening in my apartment with all the things you cherish, and all the things I cherish!”
Ville’s heart sank. All the things Governor Jones cherished involved dirty sex with unwilling male partners. How the hell could he willingly enter into an agreement like that? But at the same time, there was no way he could bear to see Bam punished in the way Jones had described. Damned if he confessed, damned if he didn’t; Ville didn’t know what the fuck to do. So he said nothing. The Governor gave it a few minutes then smiled, nodded and left the room.
“I’ll drop by and see you in a few days Valo. You can give me your decision then.”
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Pairing: Vam
Rating: No idea. Swearing, violence and PLENTY of n/c sex.
Disclaimer: It never happened, it never will, I don’t own the characters, blah blah blah. It’s pure, alt.universe action.
Summary: Ville made a mistake and now he's in a sinister correctional facility which seems to operate way outside the laws of the land. And guess who his cellmate is...
Notes: Am I a total pervert? I think the answer to that is a resounding YES!!
Feedback is SEX!
CHAPTER 16
Bam had not taken the news well and Ville chewed nervously at the nails on his right hand as he watched Bam pace - well, limp - the narrow cell like an injured, caged animal. There was something animalistic about Bam’s rage too; Ville could almost see it rising from him like a primeval cloud; raw, unbridled and very dangerous. He didn’t want to say anything to break the tension either, since seeing Bam so angry was oddly empowering. It gave Ville both strength and hope, and God knew he needed both.
He didn’t know how long he’d been in this tiny, cold room; but it seemed his whole world, ever since the failed escape, had revolved around this tiny, cold room. He’d woken up in here - after a fashion - drugged to the eyeballs; roused intermittently by the blurred shapes of people attending to him - changing the bandages on his leg, doing things to stop him pissing and shitting the bed, sticking needles in his arms and talking to him. Ville couldn’t comprehend what they were saying, didn’t really want to either, since he was quite happy floating along in his little drugs bubble and, as soon as the people were gone, he slipped right back into unconsciousness and a universe of wild, intense, super-real dreams.
Then things started to change. Gradually the world came back into focus and his thought processes stabilised. He’d figured out afterwards they’d probably eased up on whatever it was that kept him knocked out, though thankfully not on the painkillers. Ville knew his leg was still attached to his body since he could see it, and he could move it, but there was little to no sensation in it at all. Initially panicked, he’d asked the Doctor what was wrong with him, only to be told he was healing just fine and would be walking in next to no time.
Then Governor Jones had paid a visit. By this time the sleep-inducing drug was clear of Ville’s system and when he wasn’t sleeping naturally - which was most of the time - he’d felt pretty alert. Jones had made his entrance shortly after the Doctor had conducted one of his four-times-daily check ups. Doctor Thomas had never tried to take sexual advantage of Ville during his convalescence; not to Ville’s knowledge anyway. While a part of him cringed at what might have happened while he’d been unconscious, the more rational part of his mind told him Thomas would have got absolutely no satisfaction from feeling up an unconscious victim and he had to believe that. Nonetheless he cringed every time Thomas pulled back the bedclothes to examine him, uncomfortably aware that, apart from a pair of underpants and a bandage, he was naked. But Thomas had been nothing less than totally professional at all times, in spite of his leanings, in spite of the closeness of the gunshot wound to Ville’s crotch. However, he couldn’t help but remark at least once a day how he’d saved Ville’s life and how the patient should be eternally grateful to him for that.
Ville couldn’t find it in himself to be grateful for anything. The gunshot wound which had incapacitated him, the subsequent asthma attack which had nearly killed him, were direct results of the extreme measures employed by The Facility and they had only themselves to blame. At first Ville couldn’t quite believe they’d resorted to firearms at all, couldn’t believe he and Bam were important enough to warrant that. But the more he thought on it the more he realised how keeping The Facility a secret was worth killing for. Even if the dead person was an international rock star. Sometimes, when he imagined his former existence, Ville had to pinch himself as a reminder it was true. That life seemed so far away, so unreal that he had trouble believing he’d ever lived it. But hell, he WAS a rock star and he would be again. And God help all the fuckers working in this place when he finally got out and started talking.
But getting out was a long way off yet. How many extra months would The Governor award him for trying to escape? What other punishments and acts of sexual deviancy would he have to endure in the meantime? Would he still get to share a room with Bam? Would he ever get to see Bam again? Ville knew the absolute worst thing Jones could do was separate him from the one person in here that he trusted. Bam made him feel safe, protected and though he’d only known the guy a short time, he loved him like a brother. Jones could never know any of those things.
Ville hadn’t actually heard Governor Jones enter his medical cell. He’d been drifting back off to sleep when a cold hand on his shoulder brought him round with a start and a curse. Jones was sitting on the stool next to the bed, uncomfortably close and wearing a warm, almost paternal smile.
“How are you feeling Valo? The Doctor tells me you’re mending nicely.”
Ville sucked in a shaky breath and sweat broke out all over his near-naked body. He pulled the bedclothes tightly around himself and resisted the urge to cover his head with them - like a child protecting itself from the night terrors. He didn’t want to act like a pussy in front of this man but he was so weak, so useless, so badly compromised he knew he’d have no chance of defending himself should the Governor wish to get up close and personal. Instead Ville tried to cast his mind back to that day in the bedroom when he’d kicked the shit out of Jones’s unconscious form. The memory gave him a little strength but no real hope.
“Don’t be frightened Valo. I’m not here to hurt you, or do anything else. Not just yet. I’m going to ask you some questions and I want honest answers, do you understand?”
Ville stared at him and his mouth went dry.
“You look pale, Valo.” The Governor sounded smug and more than a little satisfied. “Not such a big shot, tough guy now, are you?”
“I’d like to see how you handle a bullet wound.” He spat back.
Jones shrugged. “You’re handling it well, Valo, I give you that, but only because you’re getting the correct medication. Without it your life would be a living hell, believe me!”
“It that a threat Governor?”
Ville managed to keep his voice even but his innards were quaking and part of his brain was screaming at how he’d probably just put a nasty idea into Jones’s mind.”
Jones smiled and crossed his legs, a picture of tranquility.
“I don’t make threats Valo, you should know that by now. I make promises.” He leaned forward slightly and Ville shrank away from the stale breath which caressed his cheek.
“I want to know who planned the escape Valo. I want to know who kicked the shit out of me while I was unconscious. I want to know whose idea it was to leave me on the bed like that!”
He meant business, Ville could tell that by the set of his jaw and the steely glint in his eye, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“How did you like bondage Governor? Was it everything you hoped for?”
It struck a nerve. The Governor’s right hand whipped out slapped Ville hard across the cheek. It stung but he was damned if he was going to let it show.
“That good, huh?”
The Governor looked as though he was about to punch him, and Ville braced himself for the impact, but then Jones seemed to remember where he was. He calmed down but his eyes narrowed dangerously. He leaned forward casually, placed his hand on Ville’s right leg, right on top of the gunshot wound, and squeezed. It was gentle enough, but enough to send pain shooting through Ville’s body, stabbing into his brain and setting every nerve ending jangling. The drugs, it seemed, weren’t powerful enough to prevent this. After all, they hadn’t been designed with torture in mind. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and Jones smiled.
“Who did it Ville? Tell me and we can avoid any more of this unpleasantness.”
What was he supposed to do? There was no way Ville could ever put Bam in the frame - even though the escape had been Bam’s idea - and there was no way he’d ever confess to kicking the Governor’s head in and tying him up on the bed, not if he wanted to live anyway. Which left only one option:
“Fuck you Jones,” he snarled “You don’t fucking scare me, you weasely little cunt!”
The grip on his injured leg tightened and the agony increased exponentially. Jones was saying something but Ville couldn’t make him out. All he could hear was pain and the sound of his own screams. Abruptly, thankfully, he passed out.
He’d awoken sometime later to an empty cell and a world of agony. His leg was throbbing and the bandage felt damp. Every new pulsation sent jagged shards of liquefied glass through his body and mainlining into his brain. The bedclothes and mattress were soaked in sweat and, when he’d lifted the blankets to look at his leg, he could see blood blotching the bandage.
Doctor Thomas had come into the cell sometime later, looking pale and pinched. He’d inspected the wound and visibly winced at what he saw. He wouldn’t meet Ville’s eye and then he stood up and actually turned his back on the patient as he said his piece.
“I’m sorry Valo, this goes against everything I stand for medically, but orders are orders. Governor Jones has instructed me to cut off your supply of painkillers until you see fit to give him the information he requires.”
“Tell him to go fuck himself”. The words were an automatic response. Ville neither meant nor felt them, but there really was nothing more to be said.
The Doctor turned slowly and gave him a look which encompassed guilt, pity and a lot more besides.
“Please Valo, do yourself a favour. You have no idea how it tears me up seeing a patient under my care forced to live in extreme pain. It’s a bad wound Valo. If it’s hurting now then believe me it’ll be ten times worse when we change the dressing. And we have to do that four times a day…”
“I’ll cope!”
The Doctor nodded. “You might feel differently tomorrow morning, my friend. I’m sorry...”
Then he was gone, leaving Ville to a night of torment.
It didn’t get any easier, never got any easier. Ville was certain he was healing because time was passing and that’s what time did wasn’t it? It healed the sick. But Christ it was hard. There was absolutely no let up from the pain day or night - if day and night even existed in this Godforsaken, windowless cell - it was all Ville had to accompany him. When they changed his dressing the guards had to pin him down on the bed, when they brought him food he puked it right back up again, he was always cold, always sweating, the pain made him hallucinate but the hallucinations didn’t stop the pain. He spent hours on end - or was it seconds - willing himself to pass out. A few times he’d smashed his head against the wall of the cell with enough force to achieve unconsciousness but, when he returned to the land of the living, all it gained him was extra pain. Ville felt like he was going insane; his mind was coming up with all kinds of bizarre, semi-coherent schemes to deal with the constant agony and, by the time of Governor Jones’s second visit, it felt as though he’d spent several months in hell.
“How are you feeling, Valo?”
Ville hadn’t been sleeping, hadn’t been unconscious, but somehow he hadn’t heard the Governor come in. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the grey face before him, but clarity of vision had deserted him a long time ago. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
The voice again.
“No need so speak, I can see for myself. The Doctor doesn’t like my methods Valo, and I take no pleasure from seeing you in this state. It’s only been two days boy, do you think you can keep it up for much longer?”
Ville’s heart was racing. Two fucking days? It felt like two years. Jones was right, he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. But neither could he put Bam in the frame. Jesus Christ!
He needed water. His throat was parched and dry. When he tried to speak it came out as a cracked whisper.
“If I tell you what we did, what will happen to us?”
Ville didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, so he listened hard, trying to determine Jones’ intentions by the tone of his voice.
“I thought you’d never ask”. Jones almost purred out the words. “It’s very simple you see. If it turns out Margera was the cause of this unpleasantness, we’ll make a public example of him. That’s after the guards have had their way with him for a few days. After that he’ll be brought before the whole Facility and publicly flogged. I think 20 lashes will be sufficient but he’s a strong boy. He’s probably good for at least 30.”
Ville’s innards quaked. If that’s what Bam was in for, what the fuck did Jones have lined up for him? His chest got tight and he heard himself beginning to wheeze. A moment later he felt the familiar sensation of an inhaler on his lips.
“Breath Valo,” the Governor’s voice was gentle. “I know you’d never willingly put your friend through that”.
The medication reached Ville’s lungs and his breathing evened out. He opened a bleary eye and tried to stare at the Governor.
“What happens if I confess?”
Jones smiled and he let the silence play out for a good long time. “You might have forgotten Valo, but you have a pretty important day coming up next week.”
Ville frowned. He had absolutely no idea what Jones was talking about.
“It’s your birthday Ville! You’ll be 25 years old and hell, you don’t want to spend it lying in a cell and feeling like shit, do you? All you need to do is tell me what really happened and I’ll make the day worth remembering. You’ll get painkillers, fancy clothes, fancy food, alcohol, cigarettes, television…”
Ville sensed there was a big ‘but’ coming.
“What’s the catch Governor?”
Jones smiled. “There’s no catch boy. I want you to have a good time that’s all. I want you to forget for one evening where you are.”
Ville managed to raise a sardonic eyebrow.
“I’m getting the night off? A night pass?”
The smile broadened. “You can’t leave the facility, Valo, you know that. But I can offer you the next best thing: an evening in my apartment with all the things you cherish, and all the things I cherish!”
Ville’s heart sank. All the things Governor Jones cherished involved dirty sex with unwilling male partners. How the hell could he willingly enter into an agreement like that? But at the same time, there was no way he could bear to see Bam punished in the way Jones had described. Damned if he confessed, damned if he didn’t; Ville didn’t know what the fuck to do. So he said nothing. The Governor gave it a few minutes then smiled, nodded and left the room.
“I’ll drop by and see you in a few days Valo. You can give me your decision then.”
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15