The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 145

**TITLE: Keeper 145**

**Chapter 145**

**Coban’s POV**

An hour had slipped away, or maybe it was more?

Time had morphed into an abstract concept, a mere illusion that refused to adhere to the rigid structure of reality. The sensation was akin to a slow, relentless pressure building behind my ribs, a simmering storm of anxiety and anticipation.

The medication they had administered dulled the sharpest edges of my pain, but the throbbing in my skull remained—a persistent pulse that kept me alert, a constant reminder that I was still very much alive and very much aware.

Still no sight of the two suits from earlier. They had vanished without a trace, leaving behind an unsettling silence.

No word on what was to come next.

Just the oppressive air, thick with the scent of disinfectant, and the maddening tick of the clock on the wall, each tick driving me closer to the brink, fueling my desire to obliterate this place at the first opportunity.

And then, the door creaked open.

But it wasn’t them.

Instead, a different suit stepped in—a man with a sharper jawline, clad in an expensive coat that screamed authority. His balding head glistened under the fluorescent lights, and he adjusted his glasses with a nervous tick, pushing them up his nose as if they were weighing him down.

Beside him loomed a guard I had never encountered before.

He didn’t fit the mold of the other guards—no crisp uniform, no polished boots reflecting the harsh lights. His eyes were devoid of warmth, cold and lifeless like the sea before a storm, ominous and foreboding.

A sense of instinctual dread gripped me, tightening like a vice around my throat.

Something was off.

Very off.

This man didn’t seem like a professional guard; he bore the air of an ex-convict, someone who had walked the wrong side of the law.

“Mr. Santorelli,” the suit spoke smoothly, his voice a calculated blend of authority and disinterest. “We are here to escort you back to your cell.”

Escort.

By a suit and a makeshift guard?

I furrowed my brows, confusion bubbling beneath the surface, but I remained silent. A single nod was all I offered as I pushed myself up from the chair, ready to leave this suffocating place behind.

As we moved down the corridor, I found myself sandwiched between the suit and the guard, a prisoner being led to his execution once more. The overhead lights buzzed incessantly, each flicker igniting a deeper irritation beneath my skin.

We made our way back to the main prison, and I observed the suit as he meticulously scanned his card at each door, allowing us passage time after time.

My gaze darted around, searching for any sign of Bella, hoping to catch a glimpse of her as we approached my cell block.

I strained to hear the familiar sounds of life inside—voices of inmates, laughter, shouts, guards barking orders—but the hall was eerily silent.

Too silent.

Shit… it was dinner time.

Everyone had scattered to eat, leaving the block devoid of life.

The day was drawing to a close, and I knew what that meant… the swap would happen soon.

The thought of Margot being taken elsewhere sent a surge of anger through me, my fists clenching involuntarily.

But my attention was quickly drawn back to the suit as he led me directly to my cell before pausing.

“You know what to do now, Mr. Santorelli. This is your moment. There’s a contract waiting for you on the table inside. You have five minutes to review it, sign it, and return it to me before we bring the inmate to you.”

He adjusted his glasses yet again, an irritating habit that made me want to smash those damn lenses into contacts for him.

The rough-looking guard remained motionless, scanning the block as if he were searching for threats—or perhaps victims. Maybe he was lost in his own memories, trapped in a past that mirrored my own?

I inhaled deeply.

So, this was it?

I was about to take Newman’s life for them.

Right here, right now.

“Go on,” the suit urged, breaking my concentration. I shot him a sharp glare before maneuvering around him and stepping into my cell.

My eyes immediately fell on the desk… a neat stack of stapled papers awaited me, and a pen positioned perfectly beside it.

They didn’t even bother to disguise their intentions.

“Here,” I said as he carefully tucked it into his coat, patting the pocket as if he had just secured a treasure.

“Good,” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of gratitude. “Everything you requested, including the phone, will be provided after the incident is resolved. Now, you must wait inside. We will bring him to you. But remember—you won’t have long to do this. The cameras will be turned off for the next twenty minutes. Once it’s done, you leave the body behind. Anthony here…” – he gestured toward the silent brute beside him – “He will escort you back to medical, where the staff will assist in covering the timeline. Your alibi will be secure that way.”

I nodded stiffly, my resolve hardening. “Fine. Just bring me the bastard already.”

His eyes flickered over me, a mixture of fear and admiration for my calm demeanor.

“We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Santorelli,” he murmured with a respectful nod before turning sharply and striding away.

Anthony, the so-called ‘guard,’ shot me one last look—a dead stare that conveyed everything and nothing at once—before he followed the suit out.

The block door clicked shut behind them.

And I was left alone.

Just me, stepping back into my cell…

The weapon lay patiently on the bed, waiting for my command…

An imaginary clock ticking down the final twenty minutes…

Tonight, someone was going to die.

And for the first time in years, I wasn’t the one choosing the victim.

I flexed my hands, slipping them into the gloves, the snap of latex echoing like a gunshot in the stillness of the cell.

Margot’s face flashed in my mind—her fear, her hope, her soft fingers entwined with mine, as if I were her only lifeline in this hellhole…

This wasn’t just a deal.

This was protection.

This was for her.

And I refused to let her fall into the hands of any scumbag in this place!

I picked up the crowbar.

And I waited for hell to come knocking at my door…