Page 54 of The Rat

Morrisshook her head. “Jameson’s farm? Whothe hell is Jameson?”

Rory finally pulled his gaze off the tableand looked at Hamish. His moustache was patchy, his skin was pale,and when he wiped his hand down his face, Rory noticed his weddingband had gone.

“I know whoJameson is,”he muttered.

Morrisgawped. “Who?”

“He has a farm near my house,owns the fields behind my garden.” Hamish gritted his teeth.“Bastard…”

“You think he’s buying thefarm?”Morrisasked.

“Maybe.”

“Why the hell would he dothat?”

“To torment me, to runhis shady dealsopposite me.”

Morrislooked at Rory. “You need to get thatphone.”

“He doesn’t keep it in the cell.The guards have searched it twice moresince I last saw you, it’s notthere.”

“Well, he’s keeping itsomewhere!”

Hamish picked at hismoustache.“Did he say anything else, any hint who he was telling to buy thefarm?”

Rory shook his head. “No, that was allhe said, and I haven’t heard him on the phone again.”

“Shi,.” Hamish hissed, pushing back on hischair. It clattered to the floor, and he glared at it. “I’ve gottastop whatever he’s planning.”

“That’s the problem,” Morrismuttered, throwing her hands up in the air. “We don’t know whathe’s planning.”

“You gotta get hold of thatphone,”Hamish said.

“I don’t knowhow.”

Morrissnorted. “You must be ‘close’ enoughnow, ask to use it.”

“No.”

“You’re friends aren’t you? Buddies with amonster?”

Rory flared his nostrils. “Ican’t ask to use it—he’ll want something in return.”

“Then give it tohim.”

“Morris,” Hamish growled, “that’snot funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“I’ll try,okay,” Rorysaid.

“Do more than try,”Morris snapped. “Getthat phone.”

****

Rory hung his head as hewas escorted back tothe wing. He released a slow sigh and waited for the gate to clunk.He’d been there three months, and each week that passed, he feltmore and more like a fraud. A fraud to Ollie who waited eagerly forhim to come back, a fraud to Captain who worked hard to train himup, a fraud to Sebastian who made him smile and offered hisprotection with no catch, and a fraud to the inspector who helpedhim in his moment of crisis. His heart, and mind, and cock weretripping over each other, and he was betraying them all.

“Hey, we’ve got twentyminutes until art starts.”