Former Beta Tristian Beckington of the Blackwood Pack P.O.V.
This was the umpteenth time I had fallen on the metal floor of the vehicle. Both my hands and feet were shackled, connected by heavy chains to my waist, to restrict and severely limited my movements as well as any chance of escape. They have learned the hard way over the years not to underestimate me.
I glared at the correctional officer beside me who was supposed to act as my support. He was an asshole for not restraining me to the seat in the first place and letting me fall on my face, repeatedly. I should be used to this bullshit but still **** him. **** all of them.
If only I could get my hands on them, they would pay for how they're treating me right now. Even though I know they are not important in the grand scheme of t
