Sebastian spun around and snapped, “Speak up!”

His tone and words hit Rory like a whip, and he stopped picking nervous holes into the mattress, and drew his knees to his chest. “I said what about Teddy?”

Sebastian snorted. “You’re worried about your new friend, are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Young, good-looking, how old is he?”

“Eighteen…”

Sebastian tugged off his t-shirt, and Rory raked his eyes over his defined chest, then looked away.

“Only a kid.”

“Teddy’s not gonna hurt him, right?”

“No, Teddy isn’t like that.”

Rory closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “Good.”

“Teddy, he looks hard, and has this crazy side, but he’s a softy. He gets attached to his cellmates, feels responsible, gets protective. Your friend’s lucky to end up in a cell with him, luckier than you…”

Rory swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“Means I’m not gonna hurt you in this cell, but outside of it, I don’t care what happens to you. Some guys wanna use your teeth as dice, not my problem, some guys wanna see how pain affects the pitch of your voice, don’t come crying to me. Some guy wants to see how quickly you bleed out, don’t stain my bed. Understand?”

“I understand.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. “Good, now get ready for bed.”

Rory slipped down from the top bunk and reached into the cabinet for his toiletries. He brushed his teeth, then splashed water on his face. He glanced up at his pale complexion, his ruffled brown hair, and wide-open green eyes. Gone was the composed police officer. He’d been stripped back to a person he didn’t recognize.

“How old are you again?” Sebastian asked.

“Twenty-five, and you?”

“Almost double that.”

Rory knew he was forty-nine. He knew he’d been convicted at thirty-three for murder.

Rory hesitantly peeled off his clothing, overly aware of the attention on him. He looked at Sebastian on the bed. On his side, head propped up on his hand as he watched Rory get ready for bed.

“You trying to tease me?”

“What? No!”

“Then get on with it.”

Rory kicked his trousers aside, but a firm finger wag from Sebastian had him reaching for them. He folded them up, along with his T-shirt, and placed them in the cabinet.

“Better. Night, Rory.”

He didn’t say good night in return. He climbed up on the top bunk and lay down. Sebastian Claw was beneath him, staring up at his mattress, burning holes in it with his intense glare. Rory knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping that night. He couldn’t hear Sebastian breathing below him, there was no shifting of the bed, or rustle of a pillow. Sebastian was unnervingly quiet, and Rory knew he was lying awake, staring up, but where Rory stared up with panicked eyes, he imagined Sebastian’s narrowed with cruelty.

Chapter Two