When Joe awoke he felt Pierce’s presence next to him. He remained unmoving but Pierce, who hadn’t been asleep, took Joe’s head and forced him to look at him.

“’Bout time you woke up,” Pierce told him. “It’s time for supper.” Pierce released Joe and got to his feet. “Come on,” he told Joe. “Let’s go.”

The two headed down the corridor, taking a left at the first turn off and down another corridor until they reached a door leading into the dining hall. The two got their trays and took their seats.

“Hey,” said the fat and flabby guy who had first had Joe in the showers. He held out a pack of smokes to Pierce. Joe, knowing what was coming, laid down his spoon and started to rise but was halted by Pierce’s hand on his arm.

“Forget it,” Pierce said, ignoring the cigarettes.

“You’re raising the price?” the man demanded. “Fine. How much? I’m really itching to have a go at a Hardy.” Seeing his family had reminded him how much he hated Fenton Hardy and since he wasn’t here, his son would have to do.

“I’m taking him off the market,” Pierce corrected him.

“Taking him...” the man sputtered, his beady eyes widening. “Why?” he thundered.

“Let’s just say, I’ve become health conscious,” Pierce replied. “The more guys who mess with him, the more my chances are of getting something.”

“But I’ve already played him,” Flabby responded, smirking. “No reason I can’t have a little more.”

“You may have had him before,” Pierce said, “but there’s no telling what you’ve played with since.”

“Ah, come on,” Flabby begged. “I’ll give you a carton,” he enticed.

“Back off,” Pierce hissed, his eyes narrowing in anger.

“Sure, sure,” Flabby agreed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say,” he added, walking away. He had only been in prison for a year, but that was enough time to know that if Pierce lost his temper he was extremely dangerous. In the sixteen years he had been in prison, he had killed six inmates without getting caught. Everyone knew better than to mess with him.

After dinner, Pierce took Joe back to the nurse. He had noticed the bandage had become discolored and didn’t know if it was becoming infected or if it was the gel used on it. The guard seemed surprised to see them. “What are you two doing here?” he demanded.

“He needs his arm checked,” Pierce said.

The guard looked at Joe and sneered. “Can’t feel anything? Just existing, huh? I knew that was a load of bull,” he said. Joe remained quiet. He hadn’t told Pierce anything and he didn’t know why he had brought him there, but, as with everything else, it didn’t matter.

After Joe’s arm had been cleaned and re-bandaged, it was time for lockdown. They returned to their cell where Joe waited until the door locked shut before undressing as he had been ordered to on his first night with Pierce.

Pierce watched him undress then took off his own clothing. He pulled down the blanket and the sheet underneath and climbed into bed, keeping the cover pulled down until Joe climbed in beside him.

Joe crawled in facing the bars. He waited for Pierce to begin and when he did not, he closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

Joe awoke sometime later as a tongue was forced into his mouth. Unlike the other times he had been awakened by Pierce’s nocturnal administrations, he felt no pressure. His hands were gentle as they caressed his body but the attempted pleasure offered Joe was lost on him. Like the pain he hadn’t felt, he could feel no pleasure either.

When Pierce finished, he pulled Joe close and together they fell asleep.