His expression shifted and his eyes softened, revealing something unexpected.

Fear.

X was afraid, and that didn’t suit him at all. A big man like him didn’t know fear. He didn’t experience those types of feelings. And yet, there he stood, not ten feet away from me with terror in his eyes.

A strange feeling moved over me as I stood there staring at him. A feeling that I didn’t understand. It was heated and protective. Scary and dark. A feeling I instantly tried to banish. I couldn’t think of these inmates as anything more than chained animals. They were vicious and dangerous, regardless of the fear that swam in X’s eyes.

I looked again and somehow, I knew. I just knew that the fear he was experiencing probably for the first time in his life wasn’t for himself. It was for me. X, the slaughterer of people—the taker of lives—the sick, maniacal monster—was afraid for me. The realization made the darkness inside of me shift, and for the first time since he entered the infirmary, I wondered if maybe X wasn’t as dangerous as everyone assumed he was.

CHAPTER 4

x

FUCK. THE SHIT would hit the fan the minute the COs shackled me. It was my luck. There I was, standing to the side of the room with a big, red target on my chest and my arms and legs tied, literally.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the inmates pulled some stupid shit and took advantage of the lockdown. Having a lockdown wasn’t unusual. I was sure there was probably a fight somewhere in the prison, but this was the first time I’d been shackled during one.

Maybe things would run smoothly. Maybe the COs would keep things under control until the lockdown was over. But my hopes soon crashed. Carlos moved, and then he was standing there with a scalpel in his hand. I knew it wouldn’t be long before that fucker stabbed me in the heart, and I wouldn’t even be able to defend myself. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to end for me. Shit, honestly, it was better than rotting behind bars. I stood straighter, taunting him to make his move.

Looking across the room, my eyes met Carlos and I watched as the side of his mouth lifted in a malicious smirk. He was coming for me, and all I could think was, Bring it, motherfucker.

I straightened my spine and waited for his attack, but then my view of Carlos was blocked when the new nurse stood. Ms. Evans, Dr. Giles had called her. She was standing in the middle of the room with two crazed inmates holding scalpels and four of the weakest officers on staff. And I could do nothing to protect her.

I pulled against my restraints as realization moved over me. Carlos would have much more fun slicing her to pieces than he would me. She was beautiful and unflawed. Just the thought of the scalpel touching her milky skin made me crazy.

Thankfully, my insanity lasted seconds. The officers were able to detain the inmates, and things went back to running as smoothly as possible. I was lucky for once. Instead of watching the new nurse get diced to pieces, I was being shuffled off to my cell.

Once the officers left me to my sanctuary, I reached under my bed and grabbed a loose screw from the frame. Standing, I looked over the wall in front of me and sighed.

There were so many X marks. So many regrets. Carlos had gotten away with a few stitches, but the other guy I’d beaten pretty badly.

Reluctantly, I etched another X into the concrete wall, scrapings of sand and my remorse falling to the floor at my feet. When I was done, I lay in my bed and reflected like usual. I was lucky the fight didn’t send me to the hole. I was sure it was because of my injury, but I was still thankful nevertheless.

Reaching down, I ran my palm over my fresh cut. My leg throbbed with my heartbeat. Slinging my pillow to the foot of my bed, I propped my injured leg on it and thought of the new nurse. She was angelic. I couldn’t stop thinking about her fiery hair and emerald eyes.

Why the hell would they let her work in a place like this?

Why would she even want to work in a place like this?

There had to be a way to get her to quit, if she hadn’t already. A maximum-security prison wasn’t a place for a woman like her. She was too pretty—too soft—too womanly. The inmates would eat her alive, and I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen.

Feeling helpless wasn’t something I was used to, but for the first time since I was a nineteen-year-old punk, I experienced it. It was all because of her. It was terrifying. I couldn’t afford to feel like that when more than half of the prison wanted to see me break. If they discovered my weakness, I would be helpless to resist them. I’d been careful, not connecting to too many and keeping to myself, but the new nurse was going to throw a wrench into my life of solitude.