If you're looking for an adventure in the morally grey, and a crash course of the human condition, this is the story for you! What is good and evil? Where is that line drawn, and who decides that? Packed with humor, danger, feels, and awkward relati...
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It was a nice day overall, sixty-five degrees or so with a light breeze, and Nathan stretched as he walked down to the court. Being away from the pen didn't so much remove his anxiety as much as shift it in a new direction as he wandered the same path as the day before. It was a direct route into downtown before he came upon the alleyway to the basketball court.
Was Conny there today?
It didn't hurt to look, and they were out in public, so it wasn't like the man could crack a beer bottle over his head. Even so, Nathan still trembled as he reached the end of the alleyway and peeked forward into the gap of pavement where the court was.
It was hard to miss Conny, standing there with a basketball in his hands and staring up at the basket furthest from them. His back was to him, his shoulders stiff, and Nathan watched mesmerized as he shifted his feet together, turned his body about forty-five degrees, and lifted his hands. The movement was so smooth and calculated as he lifted his arms and tossed the ball, applying just enough pressure with a light hop to propel the ball from the three-point line into the basket. It didn't even touch the rim, just fell straight through the thin chain hoop with a swish and gentle clinking.
"Why are you hiding around the corner?" a familiar female voice whispered into his ear before someone jumped on his shoulders and arms came around his neck.
At least he hadn't let out a humiliating whine of terror, which he'd been doing for the last day, but it had been close. "Rachel." Nathan met her bright blue eyes and sighed.
She dropped down from his shoulders and touched her chin with her hand. "Did you find out Donovan is from the pen?" Rachel asked with a knowing smirk.
"Donovan?" Rick had called him Donovan too.
"Yeah. That's his name. We all call him Conny, but it's just a pet name and a play on the word "convict". Come on, let's go make him play with us." Rachel chuckled and pulled him with her to the chain-link fence.
The girl had a hell of a grip as she pushed open the door and dragged him across the asphalt. She swung the door open so hard that it bounced off the fence with a shudder of metal and drew Donovan's attention. Donovan's dark eyes only glanced past Rachel before they locked on him, and he froze in place.
"Nathan," Donovan said his name, and his eyebrows fell in tightly at the bridge of his nose as he clutched the basketball.
"I don't even get a 'hi'?" Rachel complained as she prowled around him with a mischievous smile.
"Hello, Rachel." Donovan turned as she slid behind him, but his mouth was in a firm cordial line. Until he saw the boys slipping in the door behind her, and then turned back around, and Nathan saw them creeping in from behind him too. They had come in both entrances and were now completely barring any escape.
Clad in shady blacks and rough clothes, the group gave off a heavy vibe of danger. Nathan couldn't say if they were killers like the pen's residents, but they looked like they'd have no qualms about beating the living shit out of him. Most were taller than Nathan, and they all looked like they were carrying some sort of weapon. Nathan took a step back from them into the court toward Donovan.
