Chapter 3: Arrested

Rick awoke to the bright sunlight of a new day, his head pounding from the remnants of the previous night’s alcohol. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he noticed the room was in complete disarray. Clothes were strewn across the floor—Laura’s dresses, and all her inner wears too now lay on the ground.

The sight of her garments, especially the soft pink dress she had worn the night before, sent a chill down his spine. Something was terribly wrong.

He sat up, realizing he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. His mind struggled to piece together the events of the night before, but it was all a blur.

“What happened?” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t recall anything, no matter how hard he tried. His heart raced as he scanned the room, his eyes landing on Laura.

She was lying on the floor, partially covered by a blanket. Her hair was disheveled, and her makeup was smeared across her face, which could tell that she had been crying for hours. The sight of her in such a state made Rick’s stomach drop.

“I hope it’s not what I’m thinking,” he whispered as his heart skipped a beat.

As he stood to find his trousers, Laura stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw Rick, she began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, her voice cracking as fresh tears streamed down her face.

Rick froze, his heart sinking as he realized the gravity of the situation. He looked around the room, trying to make sense of the chaos. The shattered glass, the overturned furniture—it all pointed to a violent struggle. But he couldn’t remember any of it. Regret and anger surged through him as he tried to approach Laura, desperate to explain.

“Laura, it was an accident… I didn’t mean to—”

“Stay away from me!” Laura screamed, backing away from him. “I hate you, Rick! How could you do this to me?”

Rick’s heart shattered at her words. “Laura, please, you have to believe me. I don’t remember anything. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

But before he could say anything more, a loud knock echoed through the room. Rick’s blood ran cold. He had no idea who it could be, but the urgency in the knock filled him with dread. He quickly tried to dress, but before he could finish, the door burst open.

Police officers stormed in, followed closely by Melissa and Damian. “Arrest him!” Melissa shouted, her voice dripping with venom. “He’s a rapist!”

Rick’s world spun as the officers grabbed him, forcing him to the ground and slapping handcuffs on his wrists. “No, wait! Melissa drugged me! This is all a setup!” he protested, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Melissa leaned in close, her voice a whisper only Rick could hear. “I told you, Rick. I always get what I want.” She straightened up, her expression suddenly somber as she rushed to Laura’s side. “My poor daughter,” she cooed, feigning concern.

Laura’s eyes filled with disgust as she locked onto Rick. “I hate you,” she spat.

“You've to believe Laura, I didn't do this!" Rick shouted as the police carried him off

*************

Five years later....

It was  a bright afternoon, Rick made his way through the crowded cafeteria, he accidentally bumped into Big Mike, the most feared inmate in the prison. Big Mike, a mountain of a man standing at 6'8" and weighing over 300 pounds of pure muscle, turned to face Rick with a menacing glare.

"Watch where you're going, pretty boy," Big Mike growled, his massive fists clenching at his sides.

Rick knew he couldn't back down. In prison, showing weakness was a death sentence. "My bad," he said, keeping his voice steady. "No harm intended."

But Big Mike wasn't satisfied. He lunged at Rick, aiming a massive fist at his face. Rick, relying on reflexes honed by years of martial arts training before his imprisonment, ducked just in time. The punch whistled over his head, and Rick countered with a quick jab to Big Mike's solar plexus.

The larger man stumbled back, surprised by Rick's speed and precision. The other inmates formed a circle around them, eager to watch the fight unfold.

Big Mike charged again, this time managing to grab Rick and slam him against the wall. Rick felt the air rush out of his lungs, but he didn't panic. He brought his knee up sharply, connecting with Big Mike's groin. As the giant man loosened his grip, Rick slipped away and delivered a series of quick strikes to his opponent's face and body.

Despite the pain, Big Mike was far from finished. He swung his massive arms wildly, catching Rick with a glancing blow to the side of his head. Rick's vision blurred, but he shook it off, knowing that one solid hit from Big Mike could end the fight—and possibly his life.

Rick feinted left, then darted right, using his agility to his advantage. As Big Mike turned to follow, Rick saw his opening. He launched himself forward, driving his shoulder into Big Mike's midsection and using the bigger man's momentum against him. Big Mike toppled backward, crashing to the floor with Rick on top of him.

Before Big Mike could recover, Rick straddled him and began raining down punches. The larger man tried to block, but Rick's strikes were too fast, too precise. Finally, Big Mike's arms fell to his sides, his face a bloody mess.

Rick stood up, his chest heaving as he looked down at his defeated opponent. The other inmates stared in stunned silence, shocked that someone had finally taken down the prison's most feared inmate.

Just then, a guard's whistle pierced the air. "Break it up!" the guard shouted, pushing through the crowd. But as he reached Rick, his expression changed. "Richards, you're coming with me. You've been bailed out."

Confused and still riding the adrenaline from the fight, Rick followed the guard out of the cafeteria. They walked through the prison's winding corridors until they reached the release area.

As the clanging of metal echoed through the cold, sterile halls, the guard unlocked the final gate. "You're free to go," he said, his tone indifferent.

Rick stepped out, blinking in the bright sunlight. His body was stiff from years of confinement, and his knuckles were swollen from the recent fight. As he exited the prison gates, he was greeted by a man in an impeccable suit.

"Young Master, sorry for being late," the man said, bowing slightly.