On The Outside

On The Outside

by

Louise Lyons

COPYRIGHT

On The Outside © 2016 Louise Lyons

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

WARNING

This book contains material that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

About The Author

Chapter One

I tossed back the bed covers and scrambled to my feet, clutching at my chest as I gasped for air. The room seemed stifling, closing in on me, just like that first night on the inside. I lurched to the window and fumbled for the latch, cursing under my breath until I finally released it and pushed the pane wide. A rush of cold air greeted me and I sucked in a great lungful, then spluttered it out again and breathed in another. Leaning on the sill, I remembered Rocky’s words to me that first night.

Breathe. Slow and deep; in, out. Come on, you’re okay. A strong hand resting between my shoulder blades, cool on my hot skin as I sat trembling on the edge of my prison bunk, convinced I was being buried alive.

I took another breath, easier this time, as my heartrate slowed and my body stopped shaking. Free, I whispered. I’m free. It’s over.

Gradually, the claustrophobia receded, leaving me standing at the open window in my underwear, shivering in the icy breeze. It was December and I should have been glad I’d been released before Christmas, but all I could think about was my buddy still inside and alone, or most likely sharing his cell with some newcomer. He’d become more than just a friend when we were confined in there together. Then after a hurried good-bye I'd left him behind. He had a few more months before he’d served his time.

I shook myself and pulled the window closed. That was behind me. Tomorrow my life would go back to normal, working with Dad and my younger brother Stuart, living in the house we’d shared all my life. I was free to do whatever I wanted, so long as I didn’t get into any more trouble that landed me back inside.

* * *

Hey, Craig! You awake?

I opened my eyes at the sound of Stuart’s voice, accompanied by his fist banging on my door. Rubbing a hand over my face, I groaned as I remembered my panic during the night—the feeling of being trapped, the walls closing in on me and stealing my breath. I looked around the bedroom, bigger than the cell I’d shared with Rocky, even though it was the second smallest in the house. Stuart had taken my larger room when I’d gone inside, and I didn’t blame him for it. Last night he’d offered to move back to his old room, but I’d insisted he keep it. I didn’t feel I had the right to start making demands, even from my own family. I felt like an outsider.

Craig! Stuart knocked louder, then opened the door a crack, but he didn’t look in. You’re not wanking, are you?

Fuck off!

Stuart snorted and peeked around the door, a wide grin splitting his pale face. Bet you did plenty of that in prison.

Fucking shut up about prison! I snarled at him. I don’t wanna think about it!

The smile slipped from Stuart’s face and his brows drew together above his bright blue eyes. I’m sorry. Just joking, bro.

No, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep too well. It’s gonna take me a bit of getting used to—being able to get up when I want; do what I want, when I want.

Well, you’d better get up when Dad wants or we’ll be going to the job without you. Stuart relaxed and smiled again. You’ve got half an hour. I’ll leave you to it. He withdrew and closed the door.

I hauled myself up to start my morning routine—one I hadn’t followed in a year. It seemed odd using a private bathroom that only Stuart and Dad shared. Everything was communal in prison, except for the horrible exposed toilets in each cell, there for emergencies. No one had cared about pissing in front of each other, but I’d have rather died than shit on that thing in front of Rocky.

Fifteen minutes later I headed downstairs. Dad was already outside loading the van, while Stuart stood at the kitchen counter making a stack of untidy sandwiches to take with us for lunch. I glanced at the open tins of tuna and a large pack of ham.

I know you don’t like tuna. The ham’s for you. Stuart didn’t look up as he spoke.

I don’t care. I’ll eat anything.

You always hated tuna. He stopped what he was doing and glanced at me in surprise.

I shrugged. You eat what you’re given in there. Tuna’s not that bad.

You’re not in there anymore. You have what you like best.

I suppose. I ran a hand over my short hair and leaned against the counter. What are we working on?

Nothing exciting. New doors and frames in a house that’s being refurbished over in Stamford.

It needs three of us?

Yeah, the owner’s pretty impatient. They want it done in two days. There’s nineteen doors.

What is it, a mansion?

Something like that. Pay’s good. Stuart grinned and finished wrapping the sandwiches. You've got time for breakfast and the kettle's boiled.

Thanks. I hovered, uncertain.

Craig? Stuart prompted.

Yeah. Um… Lost, I gazed around me. It had only been a year, but I felt like a visitor in my own home, or what had been my home.

Mugs. Stuart pointed at a cupboard, then gestured to various other items.

Sorry. Pulling myself together, I retrieved a mug and made coffee. I made toast with cheese to accompany it. By the time I'd eaten breakfast, cleaned my teeth, and joined Dad and Stuart in the van, things felt closer to normal. Not completely normal.

All right, son? Dad started the van’s engine and glanced at me. Belt up.

Yeah, I'm okay. Fastening my seatbelt, I slumped back in the seat. Stuart fiddled with the radio until he found music he liked and I watched the passing view outside the van. Fields, houses, cars. Just yesterday I'd been locked away from all of this and I wondered why it seemed so hard to take up where I'd left off.

By the end of the day, work and the banter with my family made me feel a lot better. Dad and Stuart acted the same as always, not mentioning the fact that I'd been away. The only reference to it came when Dad asked when I needed to check in for my parole. That night I didn't wake in a panic and stand gasping at the window, thinking about Rocky. I thought about him, but only as I might think about any mate I wasn't likely to see in a while. He'd asked me not to visit and I'd agreed, but I didn't understand why. All he'd said was that it would be harder for him to get through the last stretch now I was out. If it had been me, I'd have wanted to see him, but he was entitled to deal with it the best way he could. I supposed we'd catch up when he got out.

The rest of the week flew by. We completed the doors in two days as required, and moved onto fitting wood floors in two brand new houses. I enjoyed every minute of it, even having to work Saturday and finishing with my thumb bandaged after I shot it through with a staple gun. We picked up pizza on the way home and later, Dad and Stuart got ready for a night out.

You are coming, right, Craig? Stuart leaned on my bedroom door jamb, hands in his pockets. It's supposed to be a bit of a celebration tonight. You must be desperate to get some pussy.

Yeah. I just have to get a quick shower. I didn't relish the idea of going out on the pull with Dad and Stuart. Since Mum left ten years earlier, Dad had behaved like a man half his age, not wanting to get tied down again. As Stuart and me grew up we followed in his footsteps and frequently went out together to look for local talent. I was certainly keen to find a woman after so long, but I'd rather have gone about it my own way. I didn't want endless one night stands. I wanted to find someone I could be with; go out with on dates and spend time with just hanging out. At twenty two Stuart wasn't ready to settle down, but I had been before I'd been arrested. Only I hadn't found the right person. Maybe now.

An image of Rocky's face flashed into my mind, eyes closed, mouth open as I pounded into his body. Flushing, I shook the thought away and searched through my wardrobe for a decent shirt.

When I crawled out of bed in the morning, nursing a hangover and unable to remember the name of the brunette next to me, I realized nothing had changed. I'd been away, but after only a week it was behind me. My old life with Dad and Stuart was exactly as it had been before.

I stumbled into the bathroom to take care of my morning routine, then made my way downstairs for coffee. Stuart was there boiling the kettle, while a very pink blonde girl sat at the table filing her nails. Pink nails, pink lips, pink dress. I scrunched my eyes shut and rubbed