He reaches the top of the wall. Holding on for dear life, he quickly winds the rope a half dozen times around his left arm to keep from falling. The coil of barbed wire is inches from his forehead. Mick takes the wire cutters from his back pocket and lines the open blades along a section of coil just to the right of the rope.

He squeezes the clippers shut with all his might until the steel snaps in half. Repositioning the cutters, he struggles to focus on the next section of wire through the Thorazine haze, now closing fast on his peripheral vision.

Raymond leans against the wall and stares at the two perfect swells bulging beneath Dominique’s top. “So here’s the deal, Sunshine. You and me do the wild thing, and I promise I’ll leave your boy alone.”

She feigns an itch, catching a quick glimpse of the monitor through the security cage. Mick is still cutting through the barbed wire.

Stall the pig. “You want to do it here?”

His hand reaches higher along her arm. “You won’t be the first.” A wave of nausea washes over her as he rubs the outline of her nipple with the tip of his index finger.

Mick frees the section of barbed wire, then pulls himself on top of the wall, balancing precariously on his chest. He inches closer to the edge and looks down the other side at the twenty-foot drop. “Whoa…”

Grunting, he pulls the free end of the nylon rope toward him, then loops it several times around the remaining coils of wire, the barbs tearing holes in his flesh. Wrapping the free end of the rope around his wrists, he eases himself over the wall—and falls.

Mick drops twelve feet before the rope catches along the barbed wire, stopping his descent. Dangling by his wrists, he feels his weight pull the coils of wire away from the top of the cement wall as he drops onto the sidewalk below.

Seconds later, he is up on all fours, staring into the oncoming headlights like a disoriented deer.

“Wait, Ray, I said stop!” Dominique pushes his hand from her breast and pulls a small container of Mace from her purse.

“You fucking whore—you are fucking with me!”

She backs away. “No, I just decided that Mick’s life isn’t worth the price you’re asking.”

“You little bitch—”

She turns and presses her face to the thermal scan. Come on—She waits for the buzz, then wrenches the door open and slips out.

“All right, Sunshine, you made your choice. Now your boy’s gonna have to live with it.” Raymond opens his desk drawer. He removes a half-inch-thick length of rubber hose, then heads for the elevator.

Dominique reaches the parking lot, relieved to see the Dodge minivan pull out onto Route 441. She pops open the hood of her car, then dials the preset emergency roadside-service telephone number.