He laughed and slapped the table with his baton, probably just to try to see me jump. I didn’t give him the satisfaction as I shook my shoulders out and stretched my hands over my head.
“You missed all the fun. We had a cripple fight.”
Scowling, I shot to my feet. There weren’t that many people in the prison who would qualify under that description, and even though I wanted to knock his teeth down his throat for saying something so terrible, I couldn’t. “What happened?”
Wettekin took great pleasure in dragging things out. He picked up a can of Coke from the table and popped the tab, took a long, slurping sip, and then licked his lips while my insides wound tighter and tighter. “Yeah, they called everyone in, but you must have missed it. I can see why.” The little shit rolled his eyes. “Can’t hear much asleep.”
“I was on lunch. What. The fuck. Happened?”
He huffed, and his bottom lip stuck out as he took another slurp of his Coke. “That guy who uses the chair sometimes and the walker others? Griffin or whatever?”
“Gaffin,” I snapped.
“What’s up with that anyway?” Wettekin slurped his Coke again, and I thought about tossing it in the trash. “He’s probably faking it half the time. I bet he’s fine. But he threw down in the hallway with someone. Swung his walker at the guy. I tossed them both in the secure housing unit.”
My gut plummeted. “You what? Why did you put Gaffin in the SHU?”
Wettekin shrugged. “There was a fight, so I tossed all of them.”
“You didn’t bother trying to figure out what was going on? Who started it?” My hands cranked into fists at my sides, and I forced myself to relax. Guilt overwhelmed me for a moment. If I hadn’t fallen asleep, I could have walked with Peter to the mess hall. “That’s Peter Gaffin. He’s from my block, which you should know. How long is he in the SHU?” I forced myself to keep my voice even. “Is he in medical first, or did you just toss him?”
Wettekin sighed. “Oh, I wanted to toss him and throw away the key. The shit that man said was—” He actually shivered, and a nasty part of me was glad whatever Peter had said to Wettekin had slapped a frown on his face. “He wassomethingas we dragged him to the SHU. A nurse checked him over and said he’s fine to sit his ass there. I took his walker, though.” He smiled at me.
I slapped his Coke out of his hands as I got into his face. He reached for the baton he’d dropped on the table, and I slapped his fingers because he was a spoiled fucking child. He drew his hand back to his chest and cringed. “Give the walker back.”
“He’s in the SHU!”
Blackness tinged the edge of my vision, and I took deep breaths until it receded. “He needs it. It’s in his file. He’s not fucking faking. You take it back now. Or I will.”
“Not all of us had a nice nap over lunch. You take it. I’m eating,” Wettekin said, sounding all surly. He snorted and turned away from me toward the fridge.Fuck.
“Sorry, I just don’t want you to get into trouble.” The lie hit my lips easily, and he glanced over his shoulder at me. “We’re not supposed to take medical equipment. The warden would be all over you. You don’t need that. You gotta learn what you can and can’t do.”
He perked up and smiled at me, which was the last thing I truly wanted. “Yeah? You’re all right, Greene.” He grinned, and I felt a strange combination of enraged and guilt-ridden as I spun away. “You taking it over, then?”
“Yeah, he’s in my block. I’ll do it. Where’s the walker?”
“Sitting in the hallway where I broke up the fight.”
Sighing, I rested my hand on the doorknob for the lunchroom and felt more tired than I had when I’d dropped into my chair earlier. “Let me guess, outside of the classroom?”
“Yeah.”
Turning back, I sighed again. “Anyone else involved?”
Wettekin had a lunch bag in his hand that I was pretty sure didn’t belong to him, but I wasn’t going to get tangled up in that. He closed the fridge. “Yeah. That guy saw medical first.”
“Name?”
Wettekin shrugged, and I wanted to strangle the bastard for not paying attention, but instead I left. I’d find out what was going on from Peter. I hightailed it along the corridors and decided I’d sweep through E block to grab some of Peter’s things on my way to the secure housing unit. I’d take him his toothbrush, at least, and I didn’t give a shit how much crap I caught for it. My mind solely on getting to Peter to see if he was okay, I set the walker near the door to his cell and rushed inside. I had his toothbrush in my hand, when something hard slammed me between the shoulders and blazed pain along my back. I gasped.
My fists were balled up before I was fully turned, and I punched a man in the face. A long metal bar that looked like a piece of a bunk frame fell from his grip, and I was swinging again before he got a hand up to shield himself. My fist connected with his jaw, and adrenaline had me feeling like I could have hefted him and tossed him through a wall. He went down hard and blood spread out away from him on the floor. I’d never once in the entire time I was at TFC felt truly scared, but right now my heart was hammering in my ears.
Three men stood blocking the cell doorway, and one of them was Tatum Black. Bad odds—very bad.
“You want to do this?” I asked and jammed a finger toward Black. “We’re already trying to ship you out to max again. This will just make the train move faster.”
Black laughed and pointed at me, corkscrewing his finger through the air to make fun of me. “You’re fucking dead. Have fun with him.” He patted his boys on the shoulders and left them there, swaggering away with a wide smile on his face.
