“Can you turn the volume up?” Frankie asked from the backseat of the car.
It was already pretty loud, in Zeke’s opinion, but he complied.
Frankie had been a last-minute addition to their little road trip. When she discovered her day off corresponded with theirs, and where they were going, she’d practically invited herself. Part of him was glad to spend time with Frankie outside of the compound and was touched at how she wanted to support him today. However, a far larger part imagined all the things he’d be doing if he was alone with Noah in the car right now, like reaching over and grabbing Noah’s hand, entwining their fingers and stroking the back of his hand and—
“Zeke?”
“Huh?”
“I said, how are you feeling about seeing him? Your boss? The evil genius?” Frankie cackled to herself like she thought she was hilarious, throwing her head back and giving him a manic grin through the rear mirror.
“He is not an evil genius. Well, definitely not the genius part, anyway. My friend is really sick from what he injected him with.” Zeke shook his head to shake away the memory of Oliver entering Harding’s office after him, to ‘give blood’. Was Oliver even still alive? Surely Becca would have called him if he’d died?
“But you’re not, even though you had the same stuff?”
“I’m really not sure what went on. That’s the whole point of going today.”
“How the hell are we all getting into London’s most top security prison, anyway?”
Noah tutted. “Weallare not. I already told you, Zeke and I are the only ones my uncle’s friend could put on his visitor list. Ten minutes, in and out.”
Yesterday evening, Noah took a call at the fire pit and slipped up into the allotment, Zeke following close behind. Noah appealed, begged,pleadedwith the person on the other end of the call for their help. Zeke had lingered uselessly nearby, feeling like a burden.
“Thank you,” Zeke said, for the zillionth time. He stared at Noah before dragging his gaze away, praying Frankie was too distracted to be analysing their every movement.
In front of the others, Noah and Zeke had been incredibly careful over the last few weeks, addressing each other in only the most polite and formal tones. There was no point spoiling the illusion now, even though Zeke would have loved to talk to Frankie. He hadn’t even been able to tell Zaya yet, thanks to the militantly monitored communication policy.
Shortly later, they pulled up at a security booth adjoined to a tall red-brick wall, rolls of sharp barbed wire adorning its top. Noah made casual conversation with the guard, as if he visited the prison every other day. Their digital passes checked out, and the guard soon ushered them through to the car park.
Leaving Frankie behind to wait in the car, Zeke and Noah walked over to the prison. The main building stood quietly before them, ominous and bleak. A faded sign read: HMP Blackhouse. After a laborious checking-in process, which made the process at Avantis seem like a walk in the park, prison officers escorted them into an empty waiting room.
“There are still cameras,” said Noah, nodding to a red light in the corner.
Zeke grinned at him. “I wasn’t about to jump on top of you.”
Noah shuffled across in the hard metal seats to press his thigh against Zeke’s. “Are you ready for this?”
Not really.“Are you still okay with coming in with me?”
“Of course.” Noah yawned and relaxed back in his chair. “It’s a shame Frankie decided to tag along. It was a nightmare to swap to get this date off together. I thought we could go somewhere after this. Back to the watermill, maybe.”
“We could push her into the river?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Lieutenant Forrest and Officer Bates?”
Zeke’s head snapped up. A plump woman in a white coat gestured for them to follow her. Her heeled boots created aclop, clop, clopagainst the tiles. A harrowing, howling scream echoed down the corridor from a distant room.
The woman glanced back at them, frowning. “I don’t know who you are or how you’ve wrangled ten minutes with my patient, but it’s going to beten minutesat the absolute maximum.”
“Patient?” asked Zeke.
“Albert Harding was transferred over to my psychiatric team a few weeks ago. He’s going through the process of being diagnosed. Before you ask, his trial is currently on hold,” the woman said, her voice dripping with disdain.
Zeke caught Noah’s eye as Noah let out a scoff that he quickly tried to disguise as a cough.
Abruptly, the woman halted her determined march outside of the windowed door. She swiped her lanyard to release the door. “He’s through here. The guard will be present in the corner at all times. I’ll see you in ten.”
