Chapter 31: Chapter 31: The Repercussions
Cole's decision not to take the deal reverberated throughout the detention center like a dropped stone in still water. Jayden hadn't spoken to him since their last conversation, and the tension between them was palpable. It wasn't that Cole feared Jayden, but the look in Jayden's eyes that day—disappointment mingled with something darker—had left an uneasy feeling in his gut.
Still, Cole knew he had made the right choice. He couldn't be someone else's pawn. Not again. He'd had enough of that back on the streets, enough of people using him for their own gain.
But it didn't take long for the consequences of his decision to catch up with him.
A week after turning down the offer, Cole was walking back to his cell after gym time when he noticed something off. The usual sounds of the detention center—the clanking of doors, the murmur of voices—seemed quieter, almost as if everyone was watching him, waiting for something to happen. His instincts kicked in, sharpening his senses as he moved through the halls.
When he reached the entrance to his block, a group of guards stood waiting. They weren't the regular guards who had been there for the past few months—these men were different. Harder. They wore their authority like a second skin, and their eyes were cold and calculating.
One of them stepped forward, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "Matthews, right?"
Cole didn't respond. He kept his face neutral, his muscles tense and ready for whatever was about to happen.
"You've made some interesting choices lately," the guard continued, taking a slow step closer. "Turning down an offer like the one you got? That's not something most people walk away from."
Cole clenched his jaw, his heart pounding in his chest. He had expected some pushback, but he hadn't realized how deep the consequences would go. These men weren't just guards—they were part of the system that controlled everything in this place. The same system that had offered him the deal in the first place.
"I'm not interested in your deals," Cole said flatly, meeting the guard's gaze.
The guard's smile didn't waver. "That's unfortunate. Because now, you've got to deal with us."
Before Cole could react, the other guards moved in. Two of them grabbed him by the arms, dragging him toward a door at the far end of the hall. Cole struggled, but their grip was iron-tight, and he knew fighting them here would only make things worse.
They threw him into a small, windowless room, the concrete walls closing in around him. The air was thick and stifling, and the only light came from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows across the room.
The guards stood by the door, blocking his only exit. The one who had spoken before stepped inside, cracking his knuckles as he eyed Cole like a predator sizing up its prey.
"You think you're tough, Matthews?" the guard asked, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can walk away from people like us?"
Cole's fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to stay calm. "I don't owe you anything."
The guard's smirk faltered, and in an instant, his fist shot out, connecting with Cole's gut. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he doubled over, gasping for air.
"You owe us everything," the guard hissed, grabbing Cole by the collar and slamming him against the wall. "We gave you a chance. A chance to get out of this place, to make something of yourself. And you threw it away."
Cole glared at him, even as pain radiated through his body. "I don't need your help."
The guard's face twisted in anger, and he threw another punch, this one landing squarely on Cole's jaw. Pain exploded behind his eyes, and for a moment, the room spun.
"You're going to regret this, Matthews," the guard said, his voice cold and filled with venom. "We control everything in here. You think you're something special? You're not. You're just another punk from the streets."
Cole spat blood onto the floor, refusing to let the guard see him break. "You don't control me."
The guard stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he shoved Cole to the ground and motioned for the others to follow him.
"Leave him here," the guard said as he walked out of the room. "Let him think about his choices."
The door slammed shut behind them, and Cole was left alone in the dark, his body aching from the blows.
For a long time, he lay there, his mind racing. The pain was bad, but it wasn't the worst part. The worst part was knowing that these men—these people who thought they could control everything—weren't going to stop. They would keep coming after him, keep trying to break him.
But he wouldn't let them.
Cole slowly pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth. He had been through worse. He had survived the streets, survived Crenshaw, and he would survive this, too.
He wasn't going to let them win.
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