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2.

CHAPTER TWO.

“That was so damn good,” he says when I take my mouth off his dick. He pulls me in for a quick kiss, sucking onto my tongue before pulling away. I watch him stand up from the bed and turn around, facing his ass towards my face. I grimace, but I do what he wants anyway. I eat him out, prodding his hole with my tongue.

Alejandro moans fills the cell, his hands holding on to my head as I use my hands to part his cheeks. He's a bit hairy down there so I can feel hair in my mouth as I eat him, but I don't mind it. After all, I've been dealt worse by life itself.

“That was so amazing,” Alejandro breathes out in strokes as he wears back his boxers and trousers, falling down to the bed.

“No sex?” I ask as I stand up and pick up my top. I wear it back and sit on my bed.

He hesitates but shakes his head. “No, Ophelia. I didn’t come for sex tonight.”

“But you made me eat your ass.”

“You offered,” he says with a wink. “So, like I was saying, the U.S. government, along with NASA, needs fifty death row inmates for something in space. I don’t have many details, but I put your name down. You’ll be released in three days.”

My breath catches. Released in three days? I’ve always dreamed of freedom, but this feels surreal. “In three days?”

Alejandro nods. “The court approved it. NASA’s buying your freedom. I don’t know much, but it seems important. Something about humanity.”

“Why do you think that?” I ask curious as I rest my back against the wall, placing all my attention on Alejandro.

“They’re sending you and the others to a newly discovered planet,” he explains.

“A new planet was discovered?” I am thrilled by the news. Even more, I'm elated knowing that I have the privilege of going to that new planet. As a kid I had an interest in astrology. I once dreamt of becoming an astronaut or even an astrologer before life happened to me. “I don't understand though, why are they sending us? Can't they send normal astronauts like they do?”

“That’s the part I don’t know,” Alejandro admits. “But you’ll get your freedom. You’re young, Ophelia. You came to prison at twenty. You deserve to live. You're a good person, Ophelia.”

I don't even know if I am a good person or not. I stopped trying to be one six years ago. “You believe so?”

“I know so.”

“Even after what I did?”

“It was self-defense,” Alejandro says softly.

I chuckle darkly. “The court didn’t believe that.”

“But I do,” he says, patting my hair gently. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, including from me, and the man that got you locked up in here.”

“At least that man is dead now— I killed him and that's why I'm here,” I reply.

“He deserved it,” Alejandro says, standing up. “This would be the last time we'd be seeing each other, Ophelia. I properly won't be around when you're released, but I wish you the best in whatever you'll be doing now.”

I stay silent as he picks up his torchlight and leaves the cell, locking it behind him. His words replay in my mind—NASA, freedom, and me going outside the planet. It still feels very surreal, but I know Alejandro can't lie to me. He might be an asshole who loves his ass eaten, but I know him well enough to know he isn't a liar.

With a sigh, I lay back on my bed. I look at the two other empty beds that once belonged to Eliana and Hannah; I've never had a family, but they were the closest I had to one. They helped and showed me the way to survive when I'd first been brought into prison six years ago. I don't know what they did to land themselves a death sentence, but they were really nice to me and I hope they're resting well. At their thought, I feel tears well up in my eyes, but I don't cry. I haven't cried ever since my first week in prison, which was six years ago.

•••

I haven’t seen Alejandro since he last came to my cell two days ago. Strangely enough, none of the guards have bothered me for sex in the past two days either. It’s unusual, but I’m not one to question a reprieve, no matter how short-lived it might be.

On the morning of the third day—the day Alejandro promised I would be released—I’m startled awake by the clattering of the lock on my cell door. Gary, one of the rougher guards, swings the door open and strikes his stick against the iron bars. His face is contorted into a frown, as if my release personally offends him.

“Get up, Ophelia. It’s your lucky day,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I rise from my bed, stretching my stiff muscles. “Are you frowning because you’ll miss me?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood as I step out of the cell that’s been my home for six long years.

Gary scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Maybe. But don’t flatter yourself. There are plenty of replacements waiting.”

I don’t bother replying to that. My release is simple and clinical. I’m ushered into an administrative room where I meet a woman dressed in a sharp, two-piece suit, her platinum blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her face is serious, no-nonsense. She introduces herself as Caitlyn, an associate of NASA.

She hands me a stack of paperwork to sign. My hands tremble slightly as I fill out the forms—official confirmation that I’m being released. It feels surreal. Once I’m done, Caitlyn hands me a new set of clothes—a plain white top and gray sweatpants. They aren’t much, but they’re clean and soft. I quickly change out of my prison garb and follow her toward the exit.

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