***Story in Progress... Looking for a BETA to edit my work. Please message me if your interested! :-D
ORANGE and WHITE - Full Summary:
Beatrice 'Tris' Prior is the spoiled only daughter of single parent Billionaire movie-director Andrew Prior. Neglected by the father she adores, Tris yearns for attention she won't receive. Tobias Eaton is the only son of the influential Governor, Marcus Eaton, and he knows a side of his father no one else does. When he's sent to jail for a heinous crime he didn't commit, Tobias breaks out. When the 'prisoner' escapes from jail, neither Beatrice nor Tobias are prepared for their two very different worlds to collide. They're unprepared for the violence and tragedy that greets them at every turn, and soon realize that if they ever want to survive, they must depend upon one another.
All the characters in the book are going to be added eventually.
1:30 PM Chicago South East City Jail
Tobias Eaton adjusted the collar of his orange jumpsuit, tuning out the excited chatter of the inmates in the jails surrounding him. He let out a sigh as he scratched another line in the wall with his sharp, untrimmed fingernails.
It was his fifth day in this jail cell, this living hell where fights broke out on a daily. He'd already received quite a few injuries from said fights. The food here was disgusting, and he knew for a fact that not even a rat would eat the crap they were served up on a daily. But the worst part of all of it was the fact that he was in jail for a crime he hadn't even committed. He released a breath as he bent at the waist and lifted up his meager breakfast.
He frowned as he poked the meal with the plastic fork. The police officer who had given him the meal had called the saw dusty looking stuff 'grits'. Whatever it was, the name made it no more appeasing to Tobias. He turned his attention to the slice of bread perched beside the grits. He'd bet anything it was stale.
You have to eat something.
He lifted it up, grimacing at the feel of it. Was it.. Furry? He gagged before vomiting, the third time that week. He picked at the bread, pulling off the moodily outsides and sniffing it once more. It smelled disgusting.
"Eat it up, prisoners! That'll be your last meal 'till dinner!"
The police officer's deceleration was enough leverage for Tobias. He bit into it and took a drink of water, drowning out the bad taste. It didn't work, and he gagged again. He crumples to the floor, trying to compose himself.
Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
A desperate thought struck him, and he grabbed the bars and shook them once, panic overwhelming him.
I have to get out of here. I don't belong here.
1: 30 PM Chicago Drake Broadway Theatre
About hundred miles away from Tobias Eaton, 18-year-old Beatrice 'Tris' Prior walked down the hallway with purpose, her blond curls bouncing with every step she took with her 6-inch embroided Jimmy Choo heels. A frown was set across her pale cheeks as her eyes flew over the many actors and agents standing in the hallways. Her frown deepened and her blue eyes darkened.
"Miss Prior," murmured a short man clad in a dark suit. "are you all-" he was interrupted my her wail.
"Where the fuck is my father?!"
He flinched, though none of the others scattered about the hallways turned, as if they were used to her little explosions.
"H-he's in a meeting, Miss Prior." he stuttered.
The girls cheeks reddened slightly, though it was definitely not from the cold air the winter season brought into the theater. "I want to see my father. Right now." she hissed.
"Yes.. Yes ma'm. But he's in a very important mee-"
"Where?"
He lowered his eyes to the ground. "I'm not supposed to tell you Miss Prior." he murmured, visibly shaking with fear.
Beatrice shut her eyes as she begin to tremble with rage.
"I want to see my father, right now, Edward. I mean, unless you'd like for me to have a tantrum." she examined him, a sly smile spreading across her face. "or maybe I could tell daddy about your little late night visitations from your little-"
She broke off as he extended one trembling chubby finger towards a door near the end of the corridor.
An oddly beautiful smile for such a devilish girl spread across her face and she patted the short man on the head roughly, and started towards the door, her back to him.
As soon as she pushed the door open, the short mans face darkened. He shook his head once, and his hand traveled down to the weapon tucked into his belt.
He fingered it for a moment, stroking the gun with little sighs.
"Someday." he murmured with another slight shake of his head. "someday."
1: 54 PM Chicago South East City Jail
"Someone wants to talk to you." went the gruff voice of a police officer from outside the jail cell. Tobias nodded calmly, though curiosity and fear prickled through him.
Who would want to talk to me?
He let the team of six guards handcuff him and lead him out of the cell and into a dark room. The ringing of a telephone echoed throughout the room. They loosened his handcuffs ever so slightly and shut the door. The lights were turned on after a few seconds. Before him was the ringing telephone. He hesitated only for a moment before lifting it up with trembling fingers and putting it to his ear.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Tobias. Its me."
He almost dropped the phone, his hand trembling. "Father." he managed, keeping his voice cool and monotone. "so you've called to gloat?"
Marcus sounded shocked as he answered. "Gloat? About what?"
Tobias let out a sigh. "What did you call for, Marcus?
His father let out a sharp intake of breathe at his unusual use of his first name, ad Tobias felt a tremor of satisfaction prickle through him. Good. Let him suffer.
"I called to tell you I wasn't going to pay your bail. Your staying in jail for what you did."
Tobias let out a gasp. "But I didn't even do it! And I can't stay in here, dad. Its.. Its.."
He broke off as his father let out a soft, tutting noise. The noise he would make whenever he was about to hit him with his belt.
In spite of the fact that his father was miles away from him, Tobias couldn't help the whimper that escaped from his lips. He was quickly ashamed of it.
Marcus sounded satisfied when he finally answered. "Good. I'm glad you understand why I'm doing this. Its for your own good, anyway." He hung up and Tobias placed the phone back down into its case, his face pale and his brown furrowed in thought.
The four guards entered, talking amongst themselves as the handcuffed one hand, then moved to do the other. He didn't resist as his eyes connected to the key dangling on the guards belt. It was would be so easy to just take it. Get away from the jail. Away from his father's strict rules.
He didn't think as he did it. He lashed out, knocking both guards away from him with one handcuffed arm.
They were unprepared. It was much to easy.
He kicked the other guard in the stomach and removed the gun from his belt.
He pointed it at the last guard who's hand had crept to the panic button on the wall.
"Get on the floor. Lie flat." the guard obliged to Tobias' words, visibly trembling.
They were much to easy to handle. Too easy, in fact.
Amateurs. He figured.
Pushing away his unease, Tobias lifted the keys from the guards belt. It took some effort, but after a few minutes of desperate fumbling, he managed to unlock his handcuffs.
He turned to look down at the floor where the two guards lay, unconscious and the other guard cowered on the ground.
"I'm sorry." he whispered before he dashed out the door.
One of the police reached up to touch the wall, pressing down on the panic button.
2:00 PM Chicago Drake Broadway Theatre
"Daddy." Beatrice Prior murmured as she entered the room. Her father was in a meeting, surrounded by five different men in suits, discussing something in low voices. As she entered, her father let out a sharp intake of breathe while the others merely looked confused.
"Excuse me please, gentlemen." he murmured, pasting a small smile onto his face.
The men nodded as he led his daughter into the hallway.
"What are you doing here? Didn't Edward tell you I was in a meeting?" he hissed in a low voice, glaring at his daughter with all the frustration her felt from the hard evening.
Beatrice's eyes widened and her mouth flew open, unused to anything but adore from her father.
"I-I came to visit you, father," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug.
Her father didn't relax as she'd hoped he would've in her embrace. Instead he turned exhausted eyes onto his daughters excited blue ones.
"How much money do you want?"
Beatrice pouted.
"I didn't come for money, believe it or-"
"How much?" he repeated.
Beatrice smiled shrewdly. "About $500."
Her father reached into his wallet, counting out the dollar bills and placing them into her outstretched hands.
She smiled, mentally adding the amount to the other dollar bills she had in her purse.
About 4,500. Now I can finally buy that new dress.
"Thanks daddy!" she trilled, kissing her father on each cheek. Her father seemed unusually subdued, and he glared at his daughter for a few seconds before pulling her into a hug.
"One of these days, Tris," he murmured. "I'm not going to be around to give you money and calm you down. Your going to have to take care of yourself then."
Beatrice tried to look properly scolded, though she doubted it.
"Your right daddy." she murmured as she added the 100's to her purse.
3: 00 Chicago City Police Department
"There's been a breakout?" Police Cheif Darryl Williams echoed the messengers words disbelievingly. "How many?"
The messenger lowered his eyes to the ground, visibly ashamed. "One."
Chief Williams let out a sharp groan and rose to his feet, his eyes shining with anger as he prepared to launch into one of his legendary tirades.
"ONLY ONE PRISONER BROKE OUT? ONLY ONE PRISONER? ALL THIS FUSS OVER ONE PRISONER?"
The messenger flinched though his eyes stayed connected to the police chiefs. "Sir. It was the Eaton boy. That's why the huge fuss."
"The Eaton boy? The one we got payed extra to hold in the prison?" Williams echoed again, his eyes widening with disbelief. "go after him. Do whatever it takes to catch him. And keep this off the news. People won't take kindly to the fact that a prisoner is roaming the streets, free."
The messenger nodded before turning to go.
"Wait." he paused midstep, glancing at the police chief with scared round eyes."who's going to tell Marcus?"
Williams felt a shudder rack his body. "We won't tell him. Not yet, anyway. Hopefully, we'll catch him before we have to."
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