The damp cold made Jason shudder with chills. He wrapped his arms around himself tighter and huddled closer to the corner wall. Occasionally someone would come in, it seemed at regular intervals. He was making mental notes. If they wanted his attention, they threw wads of paper at him, which Jason collected and stuffed inside his jacket for more insulation. Never let a good thing go to waste.
So far, no one had brought him anything to eat though, let alone water to drink. That told him a thing or two. He wasn’t likely to remain a guest for long.
Then something made him jerk up. It was that sound again. The metal strike. When he looked up, two men were dragging a third man inside the cell next to his. There were only two cells in the small holding room, jail or whatever you wanted to call it. This guy was in a hospital gown, though. They hadn’t even bothered to give him underwear. His bare ass hung out for all to see. Poor schmuck…wait a minute. That’s Davis.
Not that he’d seen his butt before, but he could tell from behind that it was him…it was the bandaged heels that gave it away.
They let him go and Davis caught himself from falling by leaning against the back stone wall. He said something to them as they left. It was probably not a kind word, Jason assumed. Then the door closed.
Jason couldn’t help but stare at him. The man held sorrow too visible on his shoulders. It seemed his plan had failed if he’d landed himself in here.
Davis turned then, and his eyes met Jason’s. Jason nodded as if to say, Hi bro.
Davis returned the gesture, then walked to the adjoining bars.
“Get up,” he said.
Jason wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“Get up. Get off the floor,” he said again, but this time his face looked a little angry.
Jason shook his head. Heck, it was cold.
Davis pounded hard on the railing. “Get up, you little bastard. You’re going to get hypothermic like that. Get up! Move around,” Davis said, gritting his teeth.
What the…? Jason thought. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Why the hell do you care? But Jason found himself sliding up from his seated position anyway. When he did, several of the pieces of paper dropped from the stuffing beneath his jacket.
Davis looked at the paper on the ground and shook his head. “You…need to move around. Build your body heat. Do some fucking jumping jacks.”
Jason shook his head. I’m not doing any fucking jumping jacks.
“Do them,” Davis yelled.
Jason shook his head again and took a step back.
Davis hit the railing again. He looked so pissed he might even turn into the Hulk at any second.
Dang…what the hell’s this guy’s problem?
“You wanna see your little girlfriend again? Do what I say. Do ten jumping jacks. You’re fucking shaking.”
Jason understood then…but he shot him the bird anyway and then, instead of doing jumping jacks, he landed himself on the floor, pushed up, jumped up and repeated the burpees to the count of ten. His limbs were numb with cold but with each one, feeling returned.
When he was finished, he saw that the guard had come into the room again. He was handing Davis a blanket through the railing.
Why didn’t they give him a blanket? Jason wondered. Those guards played favorites.
But then again, Davis’s ass was bare…so there was that. No one wanted to see that.
This wasn’t just any guard, though. It was Ivan…the chopper or whatever. While they were talking, Davis pointed to Jason and said something he couldn’t quite make out with his head turned to the side.
Ivan shook his head. It was probably over the blanket. Maybe Davis asked him to give him one too? That would be nice of him.
Ivan turned to leave, and Davis asked him something else, but Ivan’s jaw clenched, and he never looked back as he left the room.
Jason looked to Davis then. The man stared at the floor, clenching his blanket in his hands, then looked up at him. His eyes met Jason’s. Something horrible had happened to him but he didn’t think he’d want to talk about it. Get it off his chest. Nothing like that. This guy wasn’t touchy feely. Davis’s look changed then, as if he’d made a decision. He stared at Jason and mouthed, “Ten more.”