“For fuck’s sake, Axel.”
“I’m looking out for your well-being here. Emotional support. That’s what friends are for.”
“You’re insufferable.” Still, I smirked.
“And yet you called me instead of Ryker.” Axel spread his hands. “Which tells me everything I need to know about the moral complexity of this situation.”
“The phone.” My voice carried that edge that made smart people stop talking. “Yes or no?”
Axel studied me for a long moment. Something shifted in his expression. Just for a second, the clown mask slipped, and I saw the guy who’d shown up to visit me for over a decade.
“Fine.” Axel stood, straightening his jacket. “I’ll get you a phone.”
“I need it soon.”
“Define soon.”
“As soon as you’re able.”
Axel laughed, but it wasn’t his usual careless sound. “You don’t ask for much, do you?” That wicked grin returned. “The porn thing is totally a valid option. Just saying.”
“Goodbye, Axel.”
“Think about it!”
I pressed my fingers against my swollen lip, tasting copper.
He was halfway to the door when he turned back. “But seriously,” Axel said, “what are you going to do with it?”
12
HARPER
Monday morning, I froze in the doorway of the infirmary.
Knox Blackwood was mopping the floor like it was the most natural thing in the world.
No shackles. No CO hovering three feet away. Just six foot four of tattooed muscle pushing a mop across linoleum, the scrape of the handle and the slosh of water the only sounds in the otherwise empty room.
For a moment, I just … watched. The way his shoulders moved beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. The way the tattoos on his forearms rippled with each stroke. The way he handled the mop like it weighed nothing, all controlled strength and easy rhythm.
I caught myself staring and immediately chided myself.
What was wrong with me?
“What are you doing here?” I managed.
He glanced up at my entrance, and his mouth did something that might have been a smile on anyone else. On Knox, it was simply the absence of a scowl.
“Told you I’d see you Monday.”
The words hit me like cold water.
“This?” I gestured at the mop, the bucket, the entire scene. “This is what you meant?”
Something flickered in those silver-blue eyes. Satisfaction maybe. Or something warmer.
“Infirmary orderly job opened up.” He dunked the mop back into the bucket, wringing it with a twist of his wrists. “Thought I’d take it.”
