Page 12 of Endangered Species
They both laughed, but then it died, and Webster suddenly felt this wave of panic. “I really hope I don’t fucking die in here.”
“I’ll never let that happen.”
“Don’t let them know that,” Webster begged. “I don’t want to make things harder for you.”
Cy didn’t answer, just dropped a kiss on Webster’s temple, and it felt…desolate somehow, like they were both helpless to stop whatever came next, and no matter what they said, there was nothing either one of them could do about it.
Cyrus moved from one kennel to another, cleaning up after the dogs and putting food in their dishes. Most days, he took his time, working with Rose after he took care of his assigned chores for the week. But his focus was elsewhere. He’d left Nicky to deal with the other inmates, and Cy was sure the jokes were rolling in. While the actual sex between them had been only as rough as Nicky wanted, Cy had left his mark. Literally.
Fingerprint bruises marred Nicky’s cheek from where Cy had pretended to silence him, and there were handprints on his left forearm and throat. Looking at those marks, the marks Nicky had wanted him to leave, they produced a strange spike in his body temperature. They made him want to strip Nicky naked and trace every scratch, burn, and bruise with his tongue. It made him want to bury himself in Nicky all over again.
Nicky had given Cy an awkward smile when he’d seen the damage in the metallic surface that served as a mirror in their cell, his face flushing to the tips of his ears. “Maybe this will buy me a week or two before the guards realize you’re not going to be the one to shiv me in the showers.” Cy had raised a brow, his mouth flattening into a hard line, prompting Nicky to ask, “You’re not, right?”
“That’s not funny.”
Nicky had grinned then winced. “It’s a little funny.”
The door to the facility opened, pulling Cy from his thoughts of that morning. His stomach churned as Rogers spoke quietly to Haliburton, and the old man gave Cy a quizzical look before leaving him alone with Rogers. Fuck. Was this asshole going to be his fucking shadow now?
“Morning, inmate,” Rogers said, keeping his distance as he pulled his baton from his belt and swung it lazily in a circle. What was it with guys like Rogers? Had they not been loved enough as children? What was with the incessant need to prove they were in charge? Did Rogers think his big stick intimidated Cy? Cy had gotten his ass beat so much when he first got in there that he was certain there would be permanent shoe prints on his back. Rogers had never scared him, had never scared anybody, really. But that was before Nicky.
When Cy only gave a nod in his direction, Rogers slammed the baton against the bars of the kennel he currently stood in, causing the golden retriever to whimper and cower back against the wall. “Answer me when I speak to you, inmate.”
“Morning,” Cy said. “This is Lawson’s dog, Gertrude. He named her after his mama. He’s real protective of her.” Cy tried to keep his tone conversational.
“You think I give a rat’s ass what that white trash, sister-fucking hick cares about?” Rogers snapped, even as he backed away from the pen.
Cy snorted. Rogers had no backbone, and he’d suck Lawson’s dick just to have him know his name. Cy honestly had no idea how the warden hadn’t caught on to what a bootlicker Rogers was when it came to the inmates he was supposed to guard. He’d sell out his own mother to feel like he was one of them. “What can I do for you, Rogers?”
Rogers chuckled. “I saw your boy in the chow line. He looked pretty banged up.”
Cy grunted, getting down on one knee to sooth Gertie, not sure how to respond to Rogers’ taunts. What he wanted to do was rip his arms off and stuff them in every available orifice, but, instead, he concentrated on the sweet dog in front of him. She hadn’t done anything to earn Rogers’ ire, and Lawson really was obsessed with Gertie.
To be fair, Cy didn’t give a fuck about Lawson’s feelings either, but only because Lawson was somebody Cy couldn’t get a bead on. Rogers was right about the trailer park. Lawson spoke like he grew up in the sticks, but he was doing federal time for laundering money. If the rumors were true, he’d earned a fortune before he was eighteen from underage gambling. That told Cy that Lawson’s dumb hillbilly act was just that. An act. Cy didn’t hold it against him—they all played a part in that place—but he also didn’t trust him.
“I have to say, I thought he’d look a little more…dead or at least be convalescing in the infirmary. I mean, this is the kid who cost you twenty years of your life, right?”
Rogers clearly wasn’t going to let it go. Cy stood, leaving the pen and locking it behind him, turning to face the guard. Cy was a head taller than Rogers, causing him to look down on the man, who was just a little too close for Cy’s comfort. Rogers must have felt the same way. He switched his baton to his non-dominant hand, his right hovering over his weapon. Cy rolled his eyes, turning to move to the next pen.
“What have you got to say for yourself?” Rogers asked.
Cy took a deep breath and let it out. He had no choice but to tell the stupid fuck what he wanted to hear. “What I have to say is that he cost me twenty years. Me. Not you. Not the warden. Me. You might want me to kill him so you can toss him in the trash, but I’ve been waiting for my revenge for a long time, and I’m not going to rush it because of you. What’s your hurry, anyway? What did he do to you guys that has you all so eager for me to do your dirty work for you?”
Rogers’ gaze slid to the left, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “That’s none of your concern.”
Cy bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting his derision. Rogers didn’t know what Nicky had done or why they wanted him dead. He was just their mouth piece. Maybe they did know what a fucking weasel he was. That was good to know. “Fair enough, but how I get even with him is none of your concern. I like having him to myself at night. He’s a lot more…accommodating than Rodriguez.”
Cy hated talking that way about Nicky, but it was the only thing he could do to get them off his back for the moment. He needed to make them think he was the animal they all wanted him to be. Cy wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t. Nicky had been vulnerable last night. Scared. Humiliated. Cy should have returned to his own bunk and let Nicky acclimate to his new life. Instead, when Nicky had offered up his body, Cy had taken full advantage.
Rogers gave him a slick smile that made Cy want to throat punch the man. “He didn’t look like he bent over and took it like a man. Looks like he put up a helluva fight. But he’s definitely smaller than Rodriguez. Any port in a storm, right?”
“When I’m done with him, you’ll know it,” Cy said, refusing to engage in anything that Rogers might mistake as camaraderie. He turned his back on the other man, moving to the next kennel.
“Yeah, sure. But don’t take too long. Your boy’s already gotten Thor’s attention. He’s chomping at the bit to make him his new pillow princess. It’d be a shame if word got around that your boy’s a chomo. How long do you think he’d last in the yard then?”
Cy’s nostrils flared at the not so subtle threat. Chomo. A pedophile. That label was a fucking death sentence, and Thor took full advantage of that knowledge. Prisoners had a code. Despite what fictional shows portrayed, rape in prison was rare. There were usually a few guys who let people know they were willing to exchange sex for protection. Usually newbies who were afraid of getting jumped by gangs. Those were Thor’s favorite fish, and he liked to reel them in slowly, make them think the sexual relationship was their idea.
But rapists and pedophiles were fair game. Whatever happened to them on the inside happened, and nobody cried about it. Nobody even blinked, really. It was a sick fucking irony that raping rapists and pedophiles made the attacker a rapist, too, but they were seen more as heroes. Punishing the wicked. Thor… Thor took full advantage of that, even though Cy knew for a fact the underage fish were Thor’s favorite. If word got out that Nicky hurt kids, not even Cy could save him. What the fuck had Nicky got himself into? How high up did this thing go? Was there any shot of him walking out of there alive? If not, was Cy willing to die for him?
