“Yeah,” I answered.

  “Nice.” He held up his own small stack of mail. “It’s nice to know someone gives a shit, right?”

  He tore into an envelope and tugged out a piece of notebook paper with a 4x6 photo tucked inside. Girlish writing in various shades of purple and pink filled the page.

  “You got your own girl writing you letters?” I asked.

  His face broke into a grin and he chuckled. “Nah. My best friend’s baby sister.” He reached down, placing his hand next to his knee. “Known her since she was little.” He shook the neatly written page. “She writes me letters like this when I’m home, too.”

  “They live far away?”

  He laughed even harder. “No. I live right around the block from them. She just likes writing letters. Has a thing for colorful pens.” He waved the page at me again.

  “Cute. Reminds me of my last roommate.” A wave of sadness washed over me. Who was Pip’s roommate now? Was he safe? At least Juliet got to talk to him at school. Who knew I’d miss the little bugger so much?

  Shouts and scuffling echoed in the hallway outside of our room. I groaned and stared at the ceiling. Every damn day with this shit. Except here, the counselors didn’t try to break up the pathetic battles for dominance. Hell, half the time they instigated the fights and placed bets.

  My roommate also happened to be one of the best fighters currently housed at the Castle.

  “Christ,” Griff grumbled. He jumped off his bunk and shoved our door closed. “I only got a few weeks left. Don’t need to be dragged into any bullshit.”

  “I hear that,” I mumbled. I had an appointment with my caseworker this afternoon. Unless she was coming to tell me I was leaving this hellhole, I didn’t want to see her. But it’s not like I had a choice. I sure as shit didn’t want to get written up for fighting right before our meeting.

  “You got homework?” Griff asked.

  I shot a glare at him. “No, Dad, I don’t.”

  Education here was an exercise in futility. No one learned anything useful. Kids acted out, disrupting the class constantly. The “teachers” themselves barely paid attention. I opted to enroll in the GED program. From the practice tests they gave me, it didn’t seem too difficult.

  That was my new plan. Get my GED, turn eighteen, and get the fuck out of here.

  The state couldn’t hold me hostage after my birthday. Legally, I’d be an adult. They’d have to release me, right? A few phone calls to the attorney who once represented me hadn’t yielded any meaningful answers.

  One of the wardens popped into our room. “Griff, you wanna fight tonight?”

  Griff raised his head and scowled. “Fuck no, Ollie. I’m outta here in two weeks.”

  Ollie scanned Griff in a long, slow way. As if he was trying to mentally calculate how much money he could make off of Griff’s fighting skills before he got released. “As long as you win, I got your back,” the guard promised.

  Meaning he wouldn’t write Griff up or call the cops and add time to his sentence.

  How generous of you, asshole.

  An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. I flattened myself against my bunk, breathing as quietly as possible, praying Ollie wouldn’t notice my presence.

  Over the last few weeks, I’d watched the counselors pressure and arrange several fights between the kids. If you said no, they’d set you up to get in trouble. If you answered yes, you had to either get the shit beaten out of you or pummel someone bloody.

  Even with the rage brewing inside me, both seemed like shitty options.

  When Griff didn’t change his answer, Ollie turned his greedy eyes my way.

  Fuck.

  Ollie took a few steps toward my bunk. “How about you, pretty boy?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Can’t fight?” He crept closer to my bunk until he was staring in my eyes.

  “Nope,” I answered without flinching.

  “Big guy like you.” His calculating gaze studied me. “I don’t believe that.”

  “You trying to date him or get him in the ring?” Griff muscled his way between us. “I’m in. Who you got for me to fuck up?”

  I shook my head. “Griff, don’t—”

  He shrugged me off. “It’s cool, Roman.”

  Ollie took Griff aside and in a hushed voice I couldn’t overhear, gave him some instructions. A few seconds later, he left.

  I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bunk. “You’re so close to getting out, Griff,” I reminded him. “Don’t risk it. You got people who depend on you.”

  His jaw ticked and I wished I’d chosen better words to voice my concerns.

  “I’ll have to get in the ring at some point,” I added, hating the note of defeat in my voice.

  The hard expression on his face melted into the easier, casual grin he usually wore. “I’m gonna have to teach you a few things before I go.” He squinted at me. “You really can’t fight? Figured a guy your size would get challenged a lot, living in a group home.”

  “I can defend myself.” Fuck knew I’d encountered enough bullies over the years. “And protect the younger kids in the house. But I don’t willingly fling myself into a fight if I can help it.”

  “Gotcha.” He clucked his tongue and tapped the side of his head. “Smart.” He pointed to our small bar-covered window. “Out there, it’s always better to diffuse a fight with words, if you can.” His smile slipped. “I’ve never really had that opportunity.”

  I opened my mouth to mutter sorry, or something equally lame, but he cut me off.

  “Real world rules don’t apply in here. Always be ready to use your fists,” he finished.

  “Fantastic,” I grumbled.

  “It can get wild inside. But for the most part, you don’t have to worry about weapons being pulled during an official fight. At least the guards keep things one-on-one. You won’t get jumped by multiple people.”

  “Greaaat.” I drew out the word with slow sarcasm that Griff ignored. “I feel so safe and warm now. Thanks.”

  “No rounds. Fights go until someone taps out or they’re physically unable to continue. Once they hit the floor, you gotta back off or the guards will hammer you.” He reached out and tapped my jaw. “Tuck your chin to your chest if you’re being taken down. Don’t wanna crack that handsome noggin on the ground.”

  I blew out an annoyed breath. “I’d rather avoid getting taken down at all.”

  “Eh.” he shrugged. “Sometimes, fighting from the ground gives you an advantage.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He stretched his arms straight out in front of his chest. “Never try to save yourself from a fall with your arms out. Good way to break a bone. When striking—use elbows or palm strikes if possible, so you’re not breaking bones in your hands or fingers.” He held up his right hand to show off his slightly crooked ring finger. “We don’t exactly enjoy platinum medical care in here.”

  No matter how much I tried to avoid it, fighting would become my means of survival.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Roman

  Major changes in our living situation happened within a few days.

  Griff and I were hanging out in our room when our door swung wide open, banging into the wall with a thud.

  “Got a new roomie for you two,” Ollie said, shoving a tall, beefy kid holding a stack of blue sweats against his chest into our room. “Play nice.” Ollie cackled and slammed the door shut.

  “Fuck no!” Griff grinned, jumping off his bunk. “What are you doing here, Eraser?”

  They embraced and thumped each other’s backs like long-lost twins. Thank fuck. Maybe this would give Griff the opportunity to big brother all over someone else for a change.

  “What’s with the orange jammies?” Griff slapped his friend’s chest.

  “Just got out of solitary.”

  I lifted my head at the voice and looked at the kid closer. “Easton?”

  He turned and stared at me. Yup, it had to be him. I jumped off my bunk.

  “Roman. Holy shit. The fuck you been eating, Miracle-Gro?” He ambled over and tossed his clothes on the bottom bunk, then crushed me in a big bear hug.

  “I could say the same about you.” I patted his back and pulled away to look him over again. “How you been?”

  “Well,” he ran his hands down the front of his orange scrub top, “not great, obviously. But I’m alive and still fuckin’ shit up, so that’s something, right?”

  “Yeah.” I slapped his outstretched hand, clasped it and yanked him in for another quick hug. “That’s everything.”

  “So, I take it you two know each other,” Griff said, joining us.

  “We crossed paths at a foster home or two,” I explained.

  “Mrs. Camp’s house for wayward kids,” Easton agreed. “Heard she kicked the bucket awhile back.”

  “I heard her daughter’s like a social worker or some shit now.”

  “Missy? That chick was always asking me to look at the moles on her vag.”

  I choked on a laugh. “All righty then. I could’ve lived a perfectly fine life never knowing that.”

  “She never pulled her pants down for you?”

  I could barely get out an answer through my laughter. “No.”

  “Christ, that shit scarred me for life.” He shivered with disgust. “Got bounced outta there because of her.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  Easton slapped Griff’s shoulder, then mine. “I can’t believe you two are roomies. Just when I thought this stint was gonna fuckin’ break me.”

  “I only got a few weeks left,” Griff said. “I hope.”

  Easton nodded. “What about you, Roman?”

  “No idea. Got sent up from a group home on some bullshit.”

  “Sorry, bro.”

  Griff patted Easton’s back. “You’re in luck, Roman. Eraser’s a beast in the cage. He’ll help me train you.”

  “What’s this Eraser shit?” I asked, ignoring the part about them training me.

  The two of them shared a sly smirk.

  “It’s a ring name he picked up.” Griff dropped to a low, dramatic crouch, sweeping his arms through the air like a dive-bar magician. “Our boy can make someone disappear with his fists,” he added in a low, theatrical voice.

  “Good to know.” I chuckled and made a jerking off motion with my fist. “I was thinking it was ’cause you got caught rubbing one out.”

  Eraser burst out laughing. “Fuck no.”

  “Hey.” Griff’s expression turned serious. “How’s Ella doing? Where’s she at?”

  Eraser side-eyed Griff. “I’m gonna ignore the fact that you brought my girl’s name up after talk of rubbin’ one out and assume your question is genuine.”

  Griff’s mouth flattened to a thin line, but his cheeks twitched. “Bro, I swear I’m serious.”

  Whoever Ella was, the mention of her name sucked all the humor out of Eraser. “I don’t know, Griff. I gotta get the fuck outta here so I can track her down.”

  “You best stop gettin’ your ass thrown in solitary then.”

  “No shit.”

  “Give me whatever information you’ve got. I’ll pass it along to Remy. See if he can find her.”

  “Thanks.” The two of them shuffled over to the beat-up desk in the corner to talk quietly.

  I hopped back in my bunk and pulled out one of Juliet’s letters.

  “You got a girl, Roman?” Eraser asked.

  I held up the paper in my hand. “Yeah. Juliet.”

  “Roman and Juliet?” he snickered. “You serious?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh shit. I just got that.” Griff giggled like a little fuckin’ kid. “That’s precious.”

  “I wouldn’t announce it took you that long, Griff. Makes you sound like an illiterate fuck.” Eraser gave his buddy a quick shove.

  “Fuck both of you,” I grumbled.

  “She pretty?” Eraser asked.

  “Who?”

  “Your girl.”

  My mouth curved up. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “Aww!” they shouted.

  Eraser hopped up on my bunk, swinging his legs over the side.

  “Don’t get comfortable,” I warned him. “I’m not trading.” We’d shared a room for a couple months when we were kids, and I liked the guy well enough. This reunion was fun and all, but I wasn’t going to let him push me around. Didn’t give a fuck what his new nickname was.

  “Ease up.” He lifted his chin toward Griff’s side of the room. “I’ll take the bottom bunk on his side.”

  “Damn right,” Griff muttered. “Your big ass ain’t sleeping over my head.”

  “Dude, do you even fit on that mattress?” Eraser waved his hand at the bed. “Your mega clown feet probably hang over the edge.”

  “Keep it up and I’ll shove one of my clown feet up your ass.” Griff lifted one sneakered foot in the air.

  They cracked up and continued trading insults.

  “Hey, let’s go down to the gym and teach Roman a few skills,” Griff suggested.

  Was he serious? Now? “I’m plenty skilled.”

  “In here, the fights are different from anything you’ve seen on the outside.” Griff’s grave tone got under my skin. “It’s not the same as defending yourself when you know a teacher or counselor will break it up any minute.”

  “You’ve clearly never spent time in any group homes,” I said.

  “No, he’s right, Roman,” Eraser chimed in. “Guards place bets. They want a good show.”

  “I’ve noticed.” I wasn’t getting out of this. One way or another I’d probably get tossed in the ring at some point. If these two were that good, I’d be stupid not to let them train me.

  I stashed Juliet’s letter away and sat up. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Griff glanced at the clock over the door. “We got time before dinner.”

  Eraser changed into his blue sweats. We looked like deranged triplets in our matching outfits and Velcro sneakers.

  The gray corridor was dark and highlighted by a stripe of orange paint for us to line up on in the mornings. The guys took a left. I’d been down to the gym once or twice. Each time, a fight had broken out. I preferred to do some bodyweight exercises—push-ups, planks, pull-ups—in the comfort of my cell, without worrying about someone dropping a stack of weights on my back.

  We passed a guard who remained expressionless. Griff and Eraser ignored him, so I did the same.

  “Royal, pull your pants up,” he barked when we were a few feet away. “You’re not on the street. That gang look doesn’t fly in here.”

  “Fucker.” Griff yanked up his loose pants and fiddled with the drawstring. “Food is so shitty. I’ve dropped like ten pounds since I got here.”

  “Don’t even,” Eraser grumbled. “They legit fed me an apple and a bottle of water every day down in solitary. Nothin’ else.”

  “Jesus Christ, how is this place still open?” Griff jumped up and tapped one of the signs hanging from the ceiling. “State shoulda shut it down by now.”

  “Maybe you can lead that crusade when you get out.” Eraser slapped his friend’s shoulder. “No one gives a fuck about us delinquents.”

  “True that.” Griff slapped another sign.

  This time, the gym wasn’t crowded. The few who were working out were already chiseled like stone statues. Hard, expressionless faces. Dead eyes following our every move. I recognized two from fights I’d witnessed in the cafeteria. They glared at us but no one uttered a word. Griff and Eraser glared right back, then headed straight for the dumbbells and a bench in the corner without exchanging words.

  Griff didn’t grab weights right away. He picked up a medicine ball and chucked it at me. “You know how to do mountain climbers?”

  I caught the ball and held it against my side. “Yeah, I can do them.”

  “Try ’em with that. It’ll ratchet up your balancing skills and work your core.” He slapped his stomach.

  “Uh, okay.” I glanced at the ball and then the floor. Did he mean right now?

  “Once you get in that ring, it’s a few blows shy of kill or be killed,” Griff said. His expression remained smooth and serious.

  “The more scars you get, the better fighter you’ll be,” Eraser added.

  “Let’s try not to collect any scars.” Griff scowled at his buddy. “But Eraser’s got a point. The more opponents you spar with, the better you’ll get over time.”

  “And there’s no shortage of fuckers to fight in here.” Eraser cast a malicious glare around the workout room.

  They spent the next hour kicking my ass. My baby workouts were barely a warm-up for these two savages. Regular planks weren’t good enough. They introduced me to side planks and star planks, then plank push-ups for fuck’s sake.

  “Enough with the fucking planks,” I groaned. “I’m ready to throw up.”

  Eraser shoved a bottle of water at me.

  I sucked down half of it before setting it on the floor. “I thought you wanted to teach me how to fight?”

  “Nah. First we gotta build up your balance and core strength, little buddy.” Griff gave me a pat on the head to go along with his patronizing tone.

  I lifted my shirt. “My core strength is solid as a rock.”

  Griff launched his fist at my gut. It hit like a missile, pulsing through my body.

  “The fuck?” I wheezed.

  “That was a fraction of what he can do,” Eraser said.

  “Come on.” Griff patted my shoulder. “Your girl will be all hot and bothered when you come back shredded.”

  I scowled at him. “My girl’s never complained.”

  After that day, we spent every afternoon in the gym. They tortured—I mean trained—me with sadistic glee.