He got behind my chair and pushed me forward around the end of the bookshelves and back out toward the main floor of the library. “Because Tatum can’t get you there, Brandon seems to like you, and you might learn something.”
I crossed my arms. “Fuck that.”
He slowed. “You’ll be nice in there, won’t you?”
I hated the way he didn’t seem certain he could count on me, but really, why would he think he could? “Yeah. Maybe… if you want.”
He squeezed my shoulder, then pushed me forward. My body ached, and I was still very-fucking-much not okay, but I kept touching my lips as he pushed me along, toward the promise of a brief moment of safety. I had to trust him and it terrified me.
5
Drew
Anger slitheredthrough me and had me feeling ready to strike at the first person who got on my nerves. I sucked in deep breaths as I stalked all the way back to E block, clenching my hands and forcing them open again to the rhythm of my footsteps. When I reached Beast’s cell, I drew my fingers across the cool steel bars as I walked, letting the solid metal comfort me. I didn’t look in until I reached the door. Beast was in his bunk, and I wasn’t shocked that he was stripped down to his boxers. I didn’t bother to announce myself, just went on in and slapped the magazine out of his hands onto the floor.
“What the fuck?” he snarled and went to stand, but I pointed a finger in his face. He stretched his scarred and tattooed body back along the bed, getting comfortable, but the rage in his eyes assured me it was his choice to stay lying down, not me forcing him. His jaw ticked and he seemed to be calculating whether or not he could snap my neck before I could do anything permanent in return. If anyone ever attacked me in this place, it would be him. I’d been fortunate so far, had never been jumped by a con, but I knew I needed to grow eyes in the back of my head with him around. His smile stretched cruelly, and he kicked his feet apart, getting comfortable. I saw red for a few moments, nearly blacked out with the need to sink my fist into his fucking face. He’d always been a predator, comfortable while the rest of the world around him quaked.
“What crawled up your ass, Greene?” he growled out into the small space between us.
Don’t make it about Peter, don’t make it about—“First day out of the SHU and you’re attacking people? You wanna live there permanently? I can fucking arrange it.” I straightened and dropped my hands to my sides purposefully.
“Petey tell you that?” He snorted. “That cocksucker was fucking jonesing for it. He’s a pussy boy and fucking loves it rough. Loves getting stuffed. Wants it real bad. He wants another taste.” Beast laughed and grabbed himself. I was disgusted to see he was hard talking about hurting Peter. Usually I was okay at work, but right now I wanted to set this entire prison on fire and watch it burn.
“He didn’t say anything to me about what happened, butyoujust did, you stupid fucker. So listen up. I know how you operate.” I took my life into my hands and crouched down so we were at eye level with each other. “It’s not a fucking secret you’re a rapist and killer. Not to me, anyway. I’m not going to tolerate this shit. No more. Not on my block.” I stood, and he sized me up, running his gaze from my boots up to my face.
“How are you gonna make that happen, huh?” His smile was full of self-satisfied bullshit and I wanted to kick his throat in.
“So much as a splash of your piss hits the fucking floor, and I’ll give you shots on your record until you’re in the SHU for the next fifty fucking years. I will dog every step you take in this god-awful building.”
He scowled, sat up, and settled his feet on the floor. “Then maybe I’ll have to make sure you’re not around to do it.”
Tensing, I refused to let him run me off. If I had to defend myself, there were a lot of things that could go wrong for him. Sweat trickled down my spine. Maybe I would start carrying around the fucking baton I hated. Some guards carried guns, too. “Is that a threat to a corrections officer?”
He barked out a laugh. “You don’t want me as an enemy. This is my prison.”
“Fuck you, Black. You’re a con. I try not to be like the other pricks in here. If you were decent, I’d be decent. But I have a goddamned limit.” I was shouting by the time I was done, and there was silence on the block, which almost never happened. You could hear a fucking pin drop. I knew everyone was listening to us, and my muscles went so taut with adrenaline I thought my body would turn into an actual rock.
He smiled like he was glad to hear me admit my humanity. Then, he promptly hocked a loogie at me. I stepped back, used to bullshit like this, as much as most of the guys in here weren’t bad, and grimaced at the spot on the front of my uniform. He grinned at me as if to ask what I was going to do about it.
“Stay the fuck away from other cons. If I see you step foot in a cell other than your own, even a fucking pinkie toe,even ifthe man insides swears he wanted you to ream his ass, I’m tossing you in the deepest hellpit I can find.” With that, I turned and stomped off.
My heart pounded so hard in my throat I felt like I was gagging on it. I had an hour to figure something out to keep Peter safe. My face heated as I passed the last of the stragglers in the hall hustling back to their cells. Anyone without something official, like the NA meeting, needed to be in their bunk soon. I stopped in the head to clean off, then went toward the guard station.
The desperation in Gaffin’s kiss had been fucking addicting, and the way his lips moved under mine made me think he’d be hungry in bed, like maybe he already had some time to make up for. I was intrigued by him as a person as well. He added up to a big fucking mystery, and not knowing things about someone always reeled me in. I was too curious for my own good.
But it was nuts to be thinking about him in a personal way, at least right now. It wasn’t like he’d be here forever, though. TFC wasn’t for hardened criminals—usually. I needed to figure out what I could do to help keep him safe until he got out of here. And I fucking knew if he told me what Beast had done to him, I’d go back there and pound his face in for him. I almost didn’t want to hear it. I barely knew Peter Gaffin and already the professionalism that kept me in line was cracking. I sighed.
In the guard station, I said hello to Burnsdale, then snagged a chair beside her. “Can I see Peter Gaffin’s records?” I gave her my most charming smile.
She blinked at me, slow and steady, blue eyes calculating. “Why?”
“Because I’m curious.”
She hummed and nodded. “Good enough for me. I want my security screens. You’re not gettin’ ’em to play snoop.” She opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a laptop. “Someone piss you off tonight?”
I hummed. “You know how you just get a bad feeling sometimes? And you know goddamned well something is coming?”
“Someone get assaulted?” she asked, spinning toward me with that same haunted look everyone around here had when the subject came up. Getting knocked around was part of prison life, but there were sucker punches and permanent injuries and a lot of latitude in between.
