James had been in prison for almost three months now, and every day felt like the same day on repeat.
He didn't talk much anymore. Wasn't associating with anyone, few people had tried to be friendly with him. He just can't wait to get out but it's still early days for him.
He usually have this cold stare from a group of inmates, he knew something was coming but just didn't know when.
One morning, during breakfast, one of the guards looked at him longer than usual before sliding his tray through the bars. "James," the guard said, "stay outta trouble today."
James nodded, he understand what that was supposed to mean. "Trouble didn't ask for invitations in a place like this," he muttered to himself.
That same day, a new inmate had been moved to James's block. He was an older man, built strong even for his age, with gray in his beard and eyes too cold to meet. People whispered his nickname in low tones Viper, "That's what we call him here."
El-Chapo's younger brother.
James had heard the name before but never thought he'd meet him face to face. Viper who is now 46 years of age had served 20years out of his 30 years sentence for first degree murder. Word was, he still ran a piece of the Iron Teeth network even from behind bars.
When James saw him walk into the yard that afternoon, the whole place shifted. Some men nodded, others stepped away. He had that kind of power the kind that made people move without him saying a word.
James stayed quiet, pretending not to notice. But deep down, he knew.
If El-Chapo was still after him for Leo's death, then him being sent to this particular prison wasn't a coincidence, but is El-Chapo that powerful he kept thinking.
The next day inside the prison, James was sitting in the yard, trying to read an old newspaper someone had left behind to kill his boredom of endless repeating the same daily routine. He felt eyes on him again, when he looked up, Viper was standing nearby, watching him as though he can't wait to strike.
"Boy" he said.
James folded the paper slowly and looked at him.
Viper walked closer, his steps calm and steady. "My brother sends his regards."
James sighed. "I figured."
"He says you took something from him," Viper went on. "Something that can't be replaced."
James looked at him, with a serious, straight face. "Your brother's son made choices. Bad ones at that, He knew what he was into."
Viper gave a faint smile. "You talk too much for a boy who could breath his last any moment from now."
James didn't answer him immediately. He just stood up, looking at him straight,l face to face
"I'm still breathing because I don't scare easy."
Chuckling Viper said "I'll tear you apart little by little, you will not make it out here alive."
"So what I'm I supposed to do now" James asked him "Plead for mercy?" James came two steps closer "they call you viper and I'm called the devil so bring it on, we go band for band and aura for aura."
For a moment, they just stared at each other two men with too much pride and too many ghosts. Then Viper moved in closer now their bodies are in contact, toe for toe and whispered, "You'll wish you did beg for mercy."
The yard went quiet as he walked away. Even the guards didn't move. James sat back down, but his chest was tight.
He knew the battle line was drawn.
That night, James barely slept. Every noise made him open his eyes. The guard's foot, the drop of water in the sink, the whispers from the next cell all of it kept him awake. Around midnight, he heard something a scrape near his door. Then a whisper.
"James.. James.. James."
He didn't move.
The voice came again, deeper this time. "You awake?"
James sat up. "Who's that?"
"Message for you," the voice said, sliding something under his door. "From outside."
James picked it up. It was a small folded piece of paper. He opened it carefully under the dim light.
It said:
"Do not for whatever reason set your sight away from your meal for a second, El-Chapo's camp want to eliminate you without his brother getting into any trouble"
James stared at the paper with his jaw tightening.
He lay back down, the note still in his hand, thinking of Jazmin, thinking of everything that had gone wrong. Sometimes it felt like life kept replaying the same pain in different ways.
First Hit
The next morning, the guards called his name again.
"James! Yard time!"
He went out, quiet, just like always. But as soon as he stepped into the yard, he saw Viper waiting near the fence, surrounded by two of his men. They didn't look like regular inmates. They looked fierce, well built men who'd kill just to pass time.
James walked past them, pretending not to notice.
But Viper stepped forward. "Hey, Boy."
James didn't respond "James!"
James stopped. "What now?"
Viper smiled. "My brother said hi again."
James turned, and that was when one of Viper's men swung at him. The punch landed hard, knocking him down. The other one kicked him in the ribs. James rolled, blocking another hit, grabbed a handful of gravel, and threw it into the man's eyes.
Fists flew on his face in a minute blood spilled all over his face. The guards shouted, running in, but by then, James had landed a few hits of his own too. One of the men went down, groaning. Viper stood there watching, not even moving, just smiling like he was enjoying a show.
When the guards broke it up, they dragged James away, his eyes was swollen, nose and lips bleeding. As they cuffed him, Viper called out, "This is only the beginning, James!"
James didn't reply. He just spat blood on the ground and kept walking.