Justin's POV
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
"Hello?" A raspy voice echoed through the phone line.
"Who's this?" I asked, questioning whether I entered the correct number I had memorized.
"Brad."
I exhaled through my nose in anger, trying to stay calm.
"Where's Rachel?" I asked through my clenched jaw.
"Who is - Oh," He chuckled, "Is this Justin?" He laughed, as I heard a crackling sound at the end of the line.
Such bad signal in prison.
"Fuck you." I spat in anger, still keeping my inner beast tamed.
"Rachel already has." He chuckled, and I knew it wasn't true.
I wouldn't let that dumbfuck bring his one-inch dick anywhere near my Rachy.
"Where is she?!" I raised my voice impatiently, as I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.
"She doesn't want you, Bieber." He chuckled yet again.
"You're full of shit, you know that? I won't let your cheap words get to me!" I yelled through the phone, a few prisoners chuckling behind me in the queue.
"Give her the phone." I lowered my voice, clenching my hand around the telephone.
"She doesn't want to talk to you, how many times must I say it?" His tone became frustrated.
"Prove it, you fucktard!"
"Alright." He simply said, as I heard the phone being placed down.
I heard crackling after a few seconds, indicating that the phone had been picked up.
"Hello?" I questioned.
"It's still me, I'm just going to ask her a question while the phone is on, so shut up, alright?"
I complied, since I have nothing better to do, as I listened closely.
"Rachel, why don't you go visit Justin?"
"Justin deserves to rot in hell." Her voice cracked.
What?
How could she?
I helped her, I'm here because I helped her.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, as I sniffed them back.
"Eyo man, is he crying?" I heard one of the prisoners whisper behind me.
"See? She doesn't want you anymore, just deal. I'm not such a fucktard anymore, am I ?" Brad chuckled, as I heard a beep meaning he ended the call.
I punched the thick brick wall besides the phone in frustration, probably fracturing a few knuckles since it cracked and hurt like a bitch.
I slammed the telephone into it's holder, walking away from the area with my jaw and fists clenched.
I was going to crack any second now.
Mess with me, I fucking dare you.
.
.
.
Brad's POV
I stopped the recording of Rachel, chuckling at Justin through the phone. He's so fucking gullible.
