The deep, masculine purr makes my shoulders stiffen, even as I take another step closer to escape.
“Anastasia. It’s polite to speak when you’re spoken to, you know.”
Gritting my teeth, I turn slowly. “Good morning. Or is it afternoon now?”
Rafe surveys me lazily. His blonde hair is damp, scraped back as he runs a hand over the golden stubble covering his jaw. “I have no idea. Not all of us are incarcerated here, after all.”
I rake my eyes over him. He’s changed so much.
The boy I knew so well, replaced by a man that I don’t know at all.
“Enjoying the view?” His voice is low. My eyes snap back up to his, the blush coloring my cheeks.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My voice is haughty. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
Rafe tsks, the sound pushing out between his teeth as he takes another step. He’s dressed smartly, a white shirt with the top two buttons undone tucked into black trousers, and I glance down at his leather shoes.
“Wait,” I blurt, throwing my hand up. Rafe actually stops, his brows raising.
“I’m sorry?” he asks slowly.
Swallowing, I gesture at the floor. “It’s just… it’s clean. And wet. If you step in it…”
My voice trails off at the incredulity in his face. Rafe glances at the floor, his eyes moving to the bucket of dirt on the table. To the other bucket at my side.
And he takes another, very deliberate step.
Damn it.
Of course he’s going to walk right through it. I have to roll my eyes as he takes several heavy steps, rubbing his shoes into the floor and leaving sticky footprints behind that I’m going to have to go back over.
Sighing, I lean against the wall. “Thanks for that.”
He stops halfway through the room, pausing next to the table in the center. “No need to thank me.”
I jolt upright as he peers into the bucket of dirt. “Rafe…”
He glances back at me, green eyes piercing. “There’s something you need to learn, Anastasia.”
“And that would be…?”
My eyes are glued to the bucket. At his fingers, gripping the edge.
“I’m not here to make your life easier.”
I choke as he lifts it. And tips it, flinging the dirt out in a soaring arc that spatters all across the shining floor.
For fuck’s sake.
He stomps over to me, his shoes treading the dirt further into the floor as he pushes the bucket into my stomach. He leans in, his breath ghosting over my ear.
“In case you hadn’t realized, I’m here to make your life as fucking difficult as possible.”
Message received.
But his eyes slide down, and I follow them. To the second bucket, filled with filthy water.
I look at him, at this angry man I don’t recognize. “Don’t youdare—.”
