It takes a second for him to answer, like he seriously has to think about it.
A trickle of fear runs down my spine. No. That can’t be right.
I know him. I know who he is. He may be Jack’s half brother, fathered by the same man who used to slap me around, but he wasn’t raised with the same violence as the men who wear the patch. He was raised by the badge. He was raised to be good. The kind of good that was bad for my family, but the kind that would intervene in a situation like this.
He’s noble and righteous, law abiding. A fucking boy scout.
“All good.” Decker, face shadowed in the dim light, smiles.
Sickness churns my guts. I try to scream again. To swear at them. Athim.But the hand covering my mouth gets tighter.
“You need to be careful,” he continues, ignoring my muffled shouts. “Couple cameras down here. Not sure everyone else will be asunderstandingas me.”
Murphy jumps away from me like I’ve just caught fire, and I scuttle backwards down the bench and press myself up against the wall.
“You touch me, and you’re dead,” I snarl. “My brother will fucking kill you.”
Ignoring me, Decker motions to the area just beyond the iron bars, where there’s a small desk and low lighting. “Key is to know the blinds spots.” He tugs Murphy to the right, towards the corner of the cell. Then he peers back, tilts his head, and repositions, as if he’s trying to measure a distance, like he’s really working out the perfect location to assault me without being caught. “Cameras won’t catch anything if you stand right about… here.”
He moves fast, turning Murphy around and shoving him against the wall, then twisting his arm behind his back at a painful-looking angle. Murphy lets out a yell. In response, Decker smashes the slimeball’s face into the cell wall.
“Shut the fuck up. Another word and I’ll break your fucking arm.” He angles closer. “All I gotta do is pull right here”—he yanks on the guy’s wrist, causing him to grunt in pain—“yeah, you feel that? A little more pressure, and it’ll pop right out.”
He looks at me again. This time when our eyes meet, that calm he wore when he stepped into the cell dissolves. Now a mix of tension and tightly restrained fury contort his handsome features into a menacing mask.
“You all good, Gracie?” he grits.
My heart is a cluster of explosions against my ribcage. I can’t fucking breathe. No. I amnotall good. But I swallow the bile sitting at the back of my throat and nod. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”
Decker presses his forearm into the back of Murphy’s neck, pushing his face harder into the concrete wall. “Maybe you can explain to me what the fuck you think you’re doing.”
“You know what I was doing,” he hisses. “Allen said…”
“Allen said what?”
Murphy sucks in a shuddering breath. “He. He said?—”
Decker pushes harder. “Tell me exactly what you were about to do. I wanna hear it. Just so there won’t be any confusion when I beat the shit out of you.”
“It’s… it’s a?—”
“Can’t hear you,” Decker snarls. “A little louder for me.”
“An interrogation tactic,” he chokes.
Decker’s body goes still, and he lets up a little on Murphy’s neck. “Come again?”
“Thought you knew, okay? The women know more than they let on, but they won’t talk. You make it seem like you’re gonnado…thatto them. And they get real chatty. I wasn’t actually gonna”—he clears his throat—“you know.”
“Rape her?” Decker snaps.
Murphy startles, his eyes going wide. “Course not!”
“And this is Allen’s doing?” he asks, giving Murphy’s arm another twist.
The asshole winces. “Who do you think sent me down here? Now come on, man, ease up.”
Decker closes his eyes and lets out a long, deep breath. Then he jerks Murphy away from the wall and shoves him towards the door. “Get the fuck out of here before I lose my temper.”
