Chapter 335

TIMOTHY POV

Timothy's fingers tightened around the phone, his breath hitching as he listened to the final click on the other end. The line went dead, leaving him with nothing but the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. With a growl of frustration, he slammed the receiver back onto its hook and slumped against the concrete wall of the prison's visitation room.

Guards, ever vigilant, noticed his agitation. They approached him with heavy steps, their eyes filled with suspicion and contempt. To them, Timothy was just another inmate, just another killer. They didn't care about the truth. They didn't care about innocence or guilt.

"You're coming with us, killer," one of the guards sneered, grabbing Timothy roughly by the arm.

Timothy jerked away, his temper flaring. "I didn't kill anyone! You have no right to treat me like this!"

The guards only laughed, their laughter dripping with malice. They spat at him, their disdain more pronounced than ever. "You're all the same," one of them sneered. "Worthless scum. You'll rot in here where you belong."

They dragged him back to his cell, their grip bruising and harsh. Timothy stumbled along, his mind swirling with anger and frustration. He collapsed onto the cold, hard floor as they shoved him inside, leaving him to curl up in a ball of misery.

He lay there, lost in his thoughts, his mind racing with worry. What had Evie found out? What did she know? Fear gnawed at his insides, twisting and turning until he felt sick with dread.

Suddenly, a sound cut through the silence of the cell block. Someone was hitting the bars of his cell. Timothy's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he searched for the source of the noise.

A hand waved at him from the cell opposite his own. Timothy's brow furrowed in confusion. Who was this person? And what did they want with him?

With a heavy sigh, Timothy pushed himself up from the floor and made his way over to the bars. He glared at the stranger on the other side, his irritation evident in every line of his body.

"What do you want?" he snapped, his voice laced with anger.

The prisoner on the other side was an old man, his face weathered and worn with age. He looked at Timothy with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, as if he found the whole situation rather entertaining.

"I have a proposition for you," the old man said, his voice low and gravelly.

Timothy scoffed. "I'm not interested in whatever scam you're trying to pull."

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not a scam, boy. It's a chance to get out of here."

Timothy's eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring once more. "And why would you want to help me?"

The old man shrugged, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Let's just say I have my reasons. Meet me in the courtyard during yard time. I'll be waiting by the fence."

With that, the old man turned and walked away, leaving Timothy alone once more with his thoughts. As he watched the old man disappear into the darkness of the cell block, Timothy couldn't help but wonder what kind of game he was playing. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and if there was even the slightest chance of getting out of this hellhole, Timothy was willing to take it.

Top of Form

Timothy felt the tension knotting his muscles as he ambled out into the prison yard. It was the same monotonous routine every day, but today carried a whisper of anticipation. As he scanned the perimeter, his eyes fixated on Evie, her silhouette stark against the chain-link fence. She stood in conversation with a figure whose presence seemed to repel him. Timothy quickened his pace, heart thudding against his ribs.

Evie’s voice, tinged with confusion and defiance, reached his ears as he approached. “What do you want?” she demanded, her tone laced with irritation.

The man, his features obscured by shadow, took a hesitant step back. His gaze lingered on Evie, then flickered over to Timothy, and recognition sparked in his eyes. Timothy sensed the man's discomfort, his unease palpable as he fidgeted with the frayed hem of his shirt.

“I heard you on the calls,” the man named Jared muttered, his voice gravelly with age and regret.

Timothy’s curiosity surged. He studied Jared, noting the burn scars that marred his weathered skin. “What about them?” Timothy prodded, his pulse quickening with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

Jared hesitated, his eyes darting between Timothy and Evie. “I got information,” he said cryptically, his voice low and urgent.

Timothy’s brows furrowed. “What kind of information?” he pressed, a note of impatience creeping into his voice.

Jared's lips twisted into a sly grin, his gaze flicking to Timothy's face. “I’ll tell you,” he drawled, “but it’ll cost you.”

Timothy's jaw clenched, a surge of anger bubbling within him. “How much?” he snapped, his voice sharp and demanding.

Jared leaned in, his breath hot against Timothy's ear. “Your commissary,” he hissed, his eyes gleaming with avarice.

Timothy hesitated, his mind racing. He weighed the risks against the potential rewards, the gnawing hunger in his gut warring with his need for answers. “Fine,” he relented through gritted teeth. “You have my word.”

Jared's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Good,” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“What do you know?” Timothy demanded, his patience wearing thin.

Jared's expression darkened, his gaze flickering to Evie before settling on Timothy. “That woman getting hitched to your father used to go by Elizabeth,” he revealed, his words heavy with bitterness.

Timothy's blood ran cold. “Mia?” he breathed, disbelief washing over him like a tidal wave.

Jared nodded grimly. “That's right,” he confirmed, his voice hollow with sorrow. “And she’s not who you think she is.”

Timothy’s mind reeled, struggling to process the implications of Jared's words. “Why?” he choked out, his voice raw with emotion.

Jared's lips twisted into a grimace. “She wanted my brother’s money,” he spat, his voice thick with resentment. “And when she didn’t get it, she... she killed him.”

“How?” Timothy leaned toward the man, his eyes darting around. He hoped the conversation didn’t look too suspicious. Those violent guards had enough ammo against him.

“Same way you wound up in here, kid. Burned bodies everywhere.”

Timothy's heart pounded in his chest, a sickening realization dawning upon him. “In a fire?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of his thoughts.

Jared nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “She blamed it on me,” he confessed, his voice cracking with emotion. “And she took everything he had.”

Timothy recoiled in horror, bile rising in his throat. “But why?” he pleaded, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Jared's gaze bore into him, haunted and hollow. “Because she’s a monster,” he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. “And she’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants.”

Timothy’s mind whirled with newfound understanding. “My father,” he gasped, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “She’s after his money too.”

Jared's eyes widened in alarm, his voice urgent. “You have to stop her,” he implored, his words ringing with desperation. “Before it’s too late.”

Timothy's chest tightened with resolve. “I will,” he vowed, his voice fierce with determination. “I’ll make sure she pays for what she’s done.”

As Jared slipped back into the shadows, Timothy turned to Evie, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared burden. “We have to warn him,” he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.

Evie nodded, her eyes shining with determination. “We will,” she promised, her voice steady with resolve. “No matter what it takes.”

Together, they walked back to their cells, their steps echoing in the empty corridors. As Timothy lay awake in the darkness, his mind buzzed with thoughts of retribution and redemption. For Mia—no, for Elizabeth—had unleashed a firestorm of chaos, and Timothy was determined to extinguish the flames before they consumed everything he held dear.