The Prison Project Chapter 84 – Soft Coban’s POV

By the time I made it back out into the prison yard, the early sun had fully crested over the cliffs. But it felt colder than yesterday, only slightly. Emptier, even with bodies moving about – some throwing rocks, others playing cards or pacing the fencing. Everyone seemed to have lost their damn minds without these females…

Leo spotted me from a bench near the fence line and waved lazily. I stalked over to him, jaw tight, head pounding.

“Let me guess,” he said with a smirk. “Visit didn’t go well again?”

I didn’t answer. Just sat down on the opposite end of the bench and stared ahead. My eyes flicked toward the outer gates, the direction the buses had taken the women that morning. I wondered how long Bella would be gone for… I didn’t like the thought of my slimy father creeping around the island when she too was out there somewhere…

I wasn’t afraid of what she might say about my report anymore, it didn’t matter. I didn’t look forward to getting out of here, not now. Not knowing my father was patiently waiting on me…

Leo leaned forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, how bad was it?”

I shrugged. “He thinks he still owns me. Still thinks I’ll play the role he wants.”

Leo gave a humorless chuckle. “That sounds about right for old Santorelli. I always thought he liked hearing himself talk more than he liked actual control.”

I turned toward him, expression flat. “He already knows her name.”

Leo’s brow furrowed. “Your Bella?”

“Yeah.” I deadpan, as he huffs.

His smirk faded fast. “Shit.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think he’d… I mean, it’s not like he has access to her.” Leo tests, as I shake my head once.

“Maybe not right now… but he’s a man that gets what he wants…” I mutter, feeling my adrenaline simmer.

Leo grew serious for a moment. “So what do you do?”

“I make sure she trusts me over him. That she doesn’t give them a reason to doubt me getting out of here… I can’t let her take the blame for this.” I explain carefully, as Leo squints.

“You think he would blame her if you don’t make it out?” Leo confirms my words as I nod once.

“Of course he will! She’s supposed to help me pass the program, anything other than that will be seen as a failure on her end… and he wants me out.” I state, as Leo rubs a hand across his rough chin.

“He wants you out after sending us both in here!” Leo scoffs at the irony of it all as I agree.

I paused, drinking in my thoughts.

“My father doesn’t like not getting his own way… if he wants me out, then Bella better help make that happen… he’d kill her otherwise.” My tone drops at the thought, knowing how true it was to say out loud.

“She’s soft,” I said honestly after a moment of silence between us. “Too soft for this place. But she needs to toughen up.”

“That’s true,” Leo said, exhaling smoke. “Cara is too. She’s a mouthy little thing, but she likes me. Hopefully I have that in my favor.”

We sat in silence for a beat, both of us watching the wall beyond the yard, the direction the girls had disappeared to. Then Leo glanced over, lowering his voice.

“You care about her at least a little bit, don’t you? Or you wouldn’t be so fussed about your father potentially killing her!” He teases, as I shoot him a glare.

I didn’t deny it.

Instead, I leaned forward, elbows on knees, staring at the dirt under my shoes.

“She’s got this way of looking at me,” I muttered. “Like I’m something broken but fixable. Like she hasn’t made up her mind yet about who I am.”

Leo didn’t say anything right away. Just watched me carefully, like he wasn’t used to seeing this version of me, stripped down, unguarded, frayed at the edges.

“You’re not scared she’ll see the whole truth?” he asked eventually.

I glanced at him. “It will have to happen eventually…”

“And?”

“Hopefully she doesn’t run. Not until she can get me out of here.” I shrug, as Leo nodded slowly, like he understood more than he was saying.

“Well,” he said, stretching, “either she’s the real deal… or you’re the world’s most charming psychopath.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Maybe both.”

Leo clapped my shoulder once before standing to his full height.

“Alright,” he said with a stretch and a yawn, “enough of this soap opera shit. Come on.”

I glanced at him sideways. “Where?”

He nodded toward the open gate at the far end of the yard. “The gym. I’m not in the mood to talk about feelings anymore. I vote we bench press until we can’t breathe.”

I gave him a dry look, but stood anyway. “I’d rather punch something.”

“Even better,” Leo grinned. “They restocked the bags last week. Maybe we won’t bust this one open.”

Laughing slightly, I nodded, following him inside and upstairs to the gym – the automatic doors sliding open to allow us entry.

Inside, the gym was mostly empty. A couple of guys were using the new metal equipment, and someone in the back corner was working on the pull-up bar. But it was quiet. Private.

How I liked it.

Leo beelined for the weight rack, already peeling off his shirt like he was preparing for war.

I took my time. Stripped down to my tank, wrapped my wrists, and approached the hanging bag like it was something that owed me answers.

The moment my knuckles hit the leather, the noise in my head finally started to fade.

I hit it again. And again.

Harder each time.

Rhythm. Pressure. Silence.

For a few minutes, nothing else existed. Not my father’s voice. Not Margot’s wide, uncertain eyes. Not the way my chest clenched every time I pictured her in a white room being interrogated about me.

“Jesus,” Leo muttered between sets, watching me from the bench. “You trying to cave its ribs in?”

“Maybe.”

I kept hitting. Let the ache in my shoulders crawl into my spine.

“You know,” he said, pausing to drink from a dented bottle, “it’s okay to admit she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“I’m not wrapped around anything,” I snapped back, a little too fast.

Leo raised a brow. “You’ve got guard-dog energy and wounded puppy eyes. It’s kind of adorable.”

I swung a hook that made the entire bag creak on its chain. “Say that again and I’ll knock your teeth out.”

Leo just laughed. “There he is.”

I grabbed a towel from the bench and wiped my face, jaw still tight. “Yeah, well, I’m not in the market for love. I’m in the market for freedom.”

Leo didn’t argue. He just nodded once with a knowing smirk plastered across his arrogant face…