He leans back, crossing his arms. “And what do I get for it?”
I already knew this part was coming.
“I’ll double your cut next week.”
His brows shoot up. “Double?”
“On the condition that you don’t ask any more questions,” I say, holding his gaze. “And not a word about this.”
He whistles low, shaking his head. “Shit. She must be something if you’re throwing around that kind of money.”
I don’t answer.
He studies me for a second, then shrugs. “Alright. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
Things happen fast after that. Chase follows the plan, starting a fight in the rec yard. Nothing major. He waits until we’re in the thick of the crowd, then throws a solid punch to my ribs, not enough to break anything, but enough to make it look real. I let myself stumble, hissing through my teeth.
Officer Rodriguez steps in, shouting. “Break it up!”
Chase backs off immediately, hands raised, playing the part of an inmate who doesn’t want trouble.
I, on the other hand, clutch my ribs, breathing heavy.
Rodriguez eyes me. “You good?”
I shake my head. “Think something’s cracked.”
He sighs, already annoyed. He can probably tell I’m up to something, but he can’t risk me being truly injured and him not doing anything. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
Perfect.
He puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean heavily against him, playing my part too well as he leads me to the clinic. Once we’re at the door and away from the other guards, I slip him a folded bill, locking my eyes onto his. He hesitates, then nods and steps outside, locking the door behind him. Rodriguez respects the power I have here—he’ll make sure I’m undisturbed.
Eleanor is at the counter, back turned, organizing supplies. She doesn’t hear me at first. But then her body tenses up and she slowly turns around. For a fleeting second, I catch a glimpse of terror in her eyes.
“Oh, it’s you,” she murmurs with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
She sounds…relieved. Why?
“Sounds like you were expecting someone else,” I say, keeping my tone light. “Miss me?”
She rolls her eyes. “What brings you here this time?”
“A punch to the guts.”
She chuckles, her beautiful eyes twinkling with genuine humor this time. “You sure get into fights a lot.”
I shrug, settling onto the table. “Occupational hazard.”
She rolls her eyes again and steps closer, reaching out to examine my ribs. I can feel the hesitation in her hands. Like she knows she’s stepping into dangerous territory but can’t bring herself to stop. I don’t move. Don’t speak. Just let her touch me.
I know she likes that…likes to feel in control.
Her fingers press gently against my side, searching for damage. “You’re not broken,” she mutters. “Just bruised.”
I tilt my head, smiling into her eyes. “You sound disappointed.”
She huffs. “I don’t exactly enjoy seeing my patients hurt.”
