Page 7 of The Rat

When he walked inside the cell,Sebastian was scrubbing his teeth by the sink. He didn’t turn toRory, and he snuck inside before jumping up on the topbunk.

Sebastian paused with histoothbrush inhis mouth. A few tense seconds passed. Rory held his breathexpecting something to happen, then the scrubbing resumed, followedby him spitting in the sink.

“Ifyou’re worried about me forcing myself onyou, that doesn’t interest me.”

Rory was hitby a wave ofrelief, then his stomach soured, and he picked at themattress.

“What about Teddy?” hewhispered.

Sebastianspun around and snapped, “Speakup!”

His tone and words hit Rory likea whip, and hestopped picking nervous holes into the mattress, and drewhis knees to his chest. “I said what about Teddy?”

Sebastian snorted. “You’reworried about your newfriend, are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Young, good-looking, howold is he?”

“Eighteen…”

Sebastian tugged off hist-shirt, and Roryraked his eyes over his defined chest, then looked away.

“Only a kid.”

“Teddy’s not gonna hurthim, right?”

“No, Teddy isn’t likethat.”

Rory closed his eyes and sighed inrelief. “Good.”

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

Rory swallowed. “What does thatmean?”

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

“I understand.”

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

Rory slipped down from thetopbunk andreached into the cabinet for his toiletries. He brushed his teeth,then splashed water on his face. He glanced up at his palecomplexion, his ruffled brown hair, and wide-open green eyes. Gonewas the composed police officer. He’d been stripped back to aperson he didn’t recognize.

“How old are you again?”Sebastianasked.

“Twenty-five, and you?”

“Almost doublethat.”

Rory knew he wasforty-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 thebed. On his side, head propped up on his hand as he watched Roryget ready for bed.

“You trying to teaseme?”

“What? No!”

“Then get on withit.”

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