“They told me. The governor told me.”
“But you didn’t leave the prison?” Thomas whispered. “You didn’t go to her funeral? Didn’t they let you –”
“They would’ve let me. The governor told me he’d make the necessary arrangements once there was a date, but I told him I wasn’t going. I didn’t want to go.”
Thomas took a step back. “But she was your sister?”
Scott’s anger spiked, and his claws popped out whether he wanted them to or not. “You don’t get to judge me. You don’t know me, Thomas, or my life. All you know about me is that I’m an escort, and I’m a fucking great one.”
“I know you, and this has nothing to do with yourjob.”
He spat the last word, and Scott gave him a twisted smile.
“It has everything to do with my job! You still can’t stand it, can you?”
“Stand what?”
“Me selling myself for money. Even though you paid for an escort yourself.”
Thomas bristled and narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. “Be carefu –”
“Even when you’ve paid for me.”
“I’ve never –”
“Sure, you have. You might not have paid me money, but you fed me, you put a roof over my head and kept me safe, so yes. Me making you come was a service you were paying for, that’s all you are. A client, and I’m your escort.”
Thomas’s chest inflated, and his shoulders tensed like he was about to shout, but instead he let go of whatever anger was brewing. He slumped, looking tired all of a sudden, then shook his head and turned to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” Thomas replied over his shoulder. “I’m going out.”
“Fine,” Scott snapped.
Thomas left the room.
Scott held his breath, listening to Thomas trudge away, then the heavy slam of the front door. He glanced down at his hand, clawing at the wooden table, and released his grip.
Shit.
“Wait,” he yelled, scrambling out of his chair. “Wait. Come back. I didn’t mean it!”
He rushed down the corridor and shoved open the front door. It thumped shut as it latched behind him, and he paused, glancing at the door wedge on the ground.
“Thomas!” He hurried down the steps, slipping on the last few and grazing his ankle. “Don’t leave.”
He ran across the first floor, and down the grand staircase, pushing open the double doors just in time to see Thomas driving away.
“Shit.” Scott clutched his hair while watching the gate close.
Thomas had gone.
Scott groaned, making his way back into the mansion where he found himself outside the black door to Thomas’s quarters, squeezing the door wedge until his palm ached.
He’d locked himself out.
“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the wedge.
