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Rolling onto my back, I folded my arms behind my head and stared up at the metal bars above my head. She had gone to the trouble of digging deeper, finding the screw-up inside of me, and loving me anyway. Lucky was as closed off as I was. The bunk shifted and squeaked in protest as he climbed down. Her daddy was a cop, one of the good guys. Real fucking deep Exhaling heavily, I sat up and grabbed my cigarettes from under my pillow.
I understand. Smeared all over the sheets. The walls. The fucking carpet. Her clothes had been ripped from her body… by the bastard standing over her zipping up his pants. It would be nice to have an ally. More than anything. Time crawled by. I had too much time to think — to fucking torture myself with what ifs.
Like what if I had gotten on that plane with Teagan and never went to the quarry? All I had was myself. All I could work on was my body. Growing it. Strengthening it. Preparing for the trouble that I knew was lurking behind every damn corner. Fucking vultures were the reason I kept a blade in my toothbrush. But I was running out of time. I followed the line of inmates as the guards rounded us up and led us into the visiting room like a goddamn herd of cattle.
I watched, emotionless, as the guys in front of me filed into the visiting room, claiming tables that were filled with people who loved them. I scanned the room for the one person I could stand the sight of these days, and when I found him sitting alone in the far corner of the room, I went straight for him. Tommy Moyet stared at me for a long time before letting out a heavy sigh.