The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 175

Coban’s POV

The gym wasn’t quiet anymore.

My hours of private access had ended, and the place had started filling up again with the usual mix of inmates and the women assigned to them.

The hum of chatter echoed off the concrete walls, the metallic clang of weights cutting through the air every few seconds. It was the kind of noise that usually blended into the background for me.

But today it grated.

I leaned back against the worn leather sofa near the edge of the floor, arms crossed over my chest, watching the room slowly fill as I waited.

Some of the men cast looks in my direction as they walked in – quick glances that tried to pass for casual.

But I saw each of them.

Resentment.

Curiosity.

A few of them knew I’d had the gym cleared yesterday and today for myself. Special treatment didn’t go unnoticed in a place like this.

Their eyes said the same thing.

Why him? What’d he do?

But I didn’t give a shit.

None of them would be stupid enough to say it out loud. The gym room doors opened once again, and my gaze flicked up automatically seeing Cara step through first.

Her posture was stiff, shoulders tight, her expression like someone had shoved a hornet’s nest down her shirt. She looked pissed. Not unusual for her, but today it carried extra bite.

Behind her came Margot.

And everything inside my chest tightened at seeing her again.

Leo followed in last, shutting the door behind them as if he had just escorted two angry cats back into a room full of dogs.

My focus never left Margot.

Not for a second.

She moved slower than Cara, her steps measured, but there was something different in the way she carried herself now. Less hesitant. Less fragile.

My gaze slid upward…

…and finally landed on her neck.

My stomach dropped.

The bandage was gone.

Gone.

My eyes locked on the bruised fingerprints scattered along her throat like a brand. My brand.

The room faded into background noise.

My heart sank like a stone in my chest. She’d taken it off.

She’d walked back in here with the marks on full display for anyone to see.

Anyone to know exactly what I’d done to her.

My jaw tightened as heat crawled up the back of my neck.

–

That night flashed through my mind without warning – the nightmare, the suffocating haze of rage and memory, my hands around her throat before I’d even realised what I was doing.

I had almost killed her.

The truth of it sat heavy in my gut.

And now she was just… walking around with the evidence like it meant nothing.

Like it wasn’t a problem.

Like I wasn’t a problem.

This is the shit I was worried about.

The shit I knew I was capable of.

And all Margot seemed to care about right now was building some fantasy life outside these walls with me in it.

A fake little fairytale.

My jaw clenched harder.

I wasn’t her Prince Charming, I was the son of a God damn notorious gangster…

I was a fucking criminal.

The thought alone made my chest tighten. But Leo had said it in truth earlier when we were alone… that we re not capable of ditching them now.

The words echoed in my

skull.

He wasn’t wrong.

I could feel it.

Neither of us had the willpower to walk away from these girls now. Not after everything that had happened. Not after spending every damn day with them.

Not after learning the way Margot’s voice sounded when she laughed.

Or the way her eyes softened when she looked at me.

Or how she melted into my hands like she belonged there.

My chest tightened again.

Hell.

I actually enjoyed their company.

Even now, watching her approach across the gym floor with Cara and Leo, I felt that pull toward her.

Dangerous.

Addicting.

And impossible to ignore.

But committing her to my world?

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