After a few moments, Ricky was pulled from his fantasy by the dark, daunting face of Dez, peering into the cell. He immediately jumped to his feet. A week ago, he would have been shaking all over, terrified of the man, but not today. ‘What the fuck do you want?’ he brazenly hollered.

Dez looked sheepish. It was an expression that probably most of the inmates hadn’t been privy to. ‘Look, no beef, bro, yeah?’

‘Fuck off. No beef? Bro? I ain’t ya bro. You’re only here because ya know me ol’ man wants to fuck you up.’

The cold, cocky words leaving Ricky’s mouth left Dez totally shocked. It was more than a stark contrast to the timid boy who’d only arrived a few weeks ago. Dez’s eyes were on stalks, and for a moment, he was rattled. ‘All right, Ricky, I was just being straight up and apologizing for upsetting you, that’s all.’

Ricky stepped forward with a new-found stance, square shoulders, and with his head up. ‘Upsetting me? You held a knife to me throat. You wanted to use me as a woman. You’re fucking disgusting. Now go and shove your apologies up your arse, or me ol’ man will do it for ya.’

Dez daringly looked Ricky up and down. ‘So that’s it, is it? A threat using ya ol’ man’s name? A real man wouldn’t threaten me with someone else.’

Just as Dez was about to turn and walk away, Ricky spat, ‘No, a real man would rip you a new arsehole, but I would rip your head off!’

With an anger emerging, Dez gripped the doorframe and glowered at Ricky. As much as he was afraid of Mike, he wasn’t going to let a kid talk to him like that, not after seeing the boy as a pathetic mute, cowering in shame. The idea that overnight this kid had grown a pair of balls, and was now acting so arrogantly, didn’t sit well with him. ‘You fucking wait, ya little shit. I’ll have ya, mark my words, I will!’

‘Come on, then!’ screamed Ricky, who had gone from mellow to mental in less than a second. By inflating his chest and protruding his jaw, his face changed, demonstrating an intense fury that penetrated through his eyes.

It made Dez jump.

‘Don’t make fucking threats, you bastard. Come on!’ Ricky now hopped from foot to foot, holding up his fists.

Only used to a blade, Dez was taken aback. He’d heard how Ricky had poleaxed Tatum and Tyrone and wondered if he’d seriously underestimated the kid.

Unexpectedly, as Dez stood in the doorway, a colossal fist cracked him on the side of the head and knocked him clean off his feet. There was no wobble or unsteadiness, Dez lay on the deck, out cold.