I hope he doesn’t start harassing me for dates. I can’t deal with that on top of everything else. One thing I can say for sure though is that I’m going to start carrying my pepper spray in my hand instead of leaving it in my purse while I walk out to my car. One good spritz of that stuff and he’ll know to leave me alone.

“Brooke.” He skids to a stop in front of me. “Hey.”

“Hello.” I avoid his eyes. “What do you need, Officer Hunt?”

He tugs at the collar of his stiff blue correctional officer uniform. “You can call me Marcus.”

I don’t respond to that. “What do you need?”

He grabs a few sheets of paper that he had stuffed into his pants pocket. He hands them to me—they’re filled in with his spidery handwriting. The name on the top sheet of paper is Malcolm Carpenter.

“I know you were trying to get that mattress for Carpenter,” he says. “We got one for somebody a couple of years ago, and I remembered these were the forms that needed to be filled out. I tried to fill in as much as I could for you.”

I look down at the papers in my hands, stunned. I have been struggling to get that mattress for Mr. Carpenter with little success, and Dorothy has been actively trying to keep me from getting it. I even attempted to call Dr. Wittenberg, who is apparently my supervising physician, even though I have never met the man—and I wasn’t able to connect with him either.

“Wow,” I say. “Thanks so much.”

“No problem.” He winks at me. “Hey, we’re on the same team, right?”

“Right…” I wait for him to follow up by asking me for drinks again, but he doesn’t. “Anyway, I better stop in the infirmary. I’ll release Nelson if he looks okay.”

At the mention of Shane’s name, Hunt’s eyes darken. He swivels his head in the direction of the infirmary door, his gaze seething. He hates Shane, and it’s not clear why. According to Dorothy, Shane hasn’t done anything particularly terrible during his time at the prison.

“I’m sorry you have a problem with Shane Nelson,” I say. “But he’s been perfectly fine with me.”

Well, except for trying to kill me that one time.

“I’ll just bet he was nice with you,” Hunt grumbles.

“And if I have any concerns about my safety, you’ll be the first to know.” I meet his eyes. “I promise.”

He considers this. “Just be very careful.”

“I will.”