“No, he’s upstairs in his…private room.”
“I see.” Janice’s shoulders slumped. “He’s always miserable when he comes out of there. Anyway, Scott, will you be a dear and lend me your muscles?”
“Depends on what you want me to do with them. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s a ‘no sleeping with me’ rule in effect around these parts.”
Janice laughed. “I’m well aware.” She pointed at the vacuum cleaner. “I don’t suppose you could help me with that? Getting it up the spiral staircase is a nightmare.”
“Of course I’ll help,” Scott replied, wrapping his arms around the cleaner. The weight of it put an instant strain on his biceps, and he wanted to put it back down but didn’t, in case Janice thought him weak.
“Tattoos?” Janice asked as they approached the doors.
“Nope,” Scott said. “I almost got one a few days ago.”
Janice shuddered. “Don’t, they’re ghastly.”
“You have seen Thomas, right? He’s covered in them, and I happen to think he looks great.”
“That’s because you never saw Thomas before the tattoos.” Janice sighed. “Such a shame.”
“You knew Thomas before he got inked?”
“Long before,” Janice replied, holding the door open. “I’ve known him since he was six years old.”
“Six?”
She hummed, then closed the door behind him. “I used to clean for his parents. At six, he was always smiling, happy to see me. He loved animals and wanted to be a vet when he grew up.”
Scott had so many questions, but he kept quiet. There was a fondness to Janice’s expression that suggested she might tellhim more without him prying. Janice headed up the stairs, and Scott followed.
“He had the voice of an angel.”
Scott adjusted his grip on the cleaner. “He can sing, that’s for sur –”
“But even at that age, before his voice had broken, it was flawless. I remember his parents being worried about his voice breaking, and yes, it affected the pitch and tone, but he sounds so much better, deep and smooth. In all my years I’ve known him, I’ve never heard him sound anything but perfect.” She sighed. “It’s such a shame he hates it so much.”
Scott frowned. “He hates to sing?”
“Haven’t heard him in at least five years.” She glanced at him. “Obviously, for three of them, he was in prison…”
“Whenever he sang, the whole wing came to a standstill. His voice demands to be listened to, and it’s impossible to ignore it. I didn’t even like that kind of music until I heard him sing.”
Janice’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “Carly told me you were Thomas’s cellmate for three years.”
“I was.” Scott nodded. “We’ve only been out four months, but it feels like it was such a long time ago.”
“Do you miss being inside?”
Scott paused to take a breather at the top of the stairs. “Miss it? Are you serious?” He used his most scandalised tone. Janice saw right through it, though, refusing to blink.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Sometimes…you feel safer in a cage.”
“I think Thomas feels like that too.” Janice pointed at the vacuum, and Scott picked it up again. “Thomas tattooed a cage on himself, only he calls it askin. It keeps everyone out and protects the damaged man within.”
“He told me he did it to feel beautiful in a different way.”
Janice shook her head. “One man’s beauty is another man’s beast.”
Scott tripped. Janice glared at him when it looked like he might drop the vacuum. She was quiet as they walked the length of the corridor, then sighed.
