Thanks a lot lady warrior. As usual, your comment is appreciated, and your welcome for the mention. There will probably be a few more mentions of other fan-fic members, but they may be more obvious.
Anyway, next chapter. Gonna be honest here and say it's really long, but that's because it's like three mini-chapters that weren't big enough to be chapters in their own right. Also, this marks Edge re-appearance, and I figured he had to come back in style. 8)
May 29, 1978
12:08 pm
“...We find the defendant guilty.”
Edge had shook his head as the verdict was read out – he had spent weeks in the district jail for that? As the officers closed in with the handcuffs, the lawyer Edge had been given by the county had shook his hand.
“Well, Edge, I’m sorry,” Edge had made sure on day one that the guy always referred to him as Edge and not by his real name. “But if your story about corrupt police officers is to be believed, then I truly feel for you.”
The lawyer walked off as he was put into handcuffs. He had been screwed, majorly. Okay, so maybe he had done all the crimes he was on trial for, but the trial had not been fair at all. First of all, the Jones Street Boys had arranged for Harry’s arm to be put in a cast, and this was apparently the injury that Edge had caused when Harry had intervened on behalf of the owner of the liquor store on Jones Street when Edge was demanding protection payment from him. The owner of the liquor store had been happy to testify against him too.
When Edge had argued that he had not done the injury, and that Harry was also a gang member, the two pigs who arrested him declared that there was no such thing as the Jones Street Boys, and the only gang-related violence in the area was done by the Saracens. Edge’s claim of corrupt cops had been almost laughed off by the jury.
*
That had been ten hours ago. Now Edge was sat on his bed as his cellmate – a guy called Chris who still maintained he was innocent, and hadn’t committed the fraud that had put him away for 6 months – stood at the bars yelling out.
“I’m innocent! Let me out!” He tried shaking the bars, but this was no high-budget action film, this was real life – the bars didn’t move an inch. A few yells of “Shut up!” and sick comments like “I’ll see you in the showers tomorrow, boy,” came back, and Edge figured it was time to control his cellmate.
Edge jumped down from his top bunk and touched Chris on the shoulder. “Hey, maybe it’s time you settled down.”
Chris ignored Edge and began jumping around a lot more. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”
Edge could take no more. He grabbed Chris around the neck from behind and pulled him over to the bottom bunk, before throwing him down and straddling him. Edge’s knees held Chris’ arms in place, and Edge placed one of his free hands over Chris’ mouth. Chris tried fighting back and even bit Edge, and a wave of anger flashed over Edge as he used his other free hand to give Chris a hard, back-hand slap.
“Now listen to me, you piece of crap,” Edge hissed. “I’m lookin’ out for you here; it’d be in your best interest to shut the hell up now. You’re gonna need all the help in the world to get through these six months, and unless you shut your mouth, I’m gonna make sure you do it alone. Got that?” The guy hesitated, and struggled again, before nodding – Edge was just too strong to overpower.
“Good,” Edge nodded. “Now get some rest. The first night is always the hardest – as soon as you know you can do one night in here, you know you can do six months.”
Edge climbed off Chris and the bed, before beginning to climb onto his top bunk. Just then a flashlight beamed over him and came to rest on Chris.
“You better shut up, boy,” The guard said sternly. “You’re aggravating the other inmates.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him quiet.” Edge quickly replied.
The torch came to rest on Edge. “See that you do.” The guard said menacingly.
The guard moved on and Edge jumped up to his bunk. He laid his head down on the hard pillow and a few minutes later voice came from below him: “Hey, thanks.”
Edge didn’t reply – he was already asleep.
*
The sound of a baton on his bars woke Edge up, and he stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, before remembering where he was.
“Hey Chris, there’s one night down – the rest should be a breeze.” No reply came, and Edge leant down from his bunk, expecting Chris to still be asleep.
Chris wasn’t there.
Edge jumped down and headed to the bars. He couldn’t see any guards around, but he saw some hands poking out of the cell next to his.
“Hey.” Edge said, reaching his arm across the wall and touching the other cell’s bars.
“What?” A gruff voice replied.
“You know what happened to the other guy in my cell?”
“He was taken away last night,” The voice laughed. “Poor sweetheart wouldn’t shut up.”
Edge turned away from the bars and surveyed the room. Only now did he notice the drops of crimson on the floor and bottom bunk – blood.
“Goddamn,” Edge muttered. “How did I sleep through a beatin’ that bad?”
He didn’t expect a reply, but he got one, and it sent shivers down his spine:
“You’ll be surprised what you can sleep though in here, boy.”
