He’s thinner now, his frame all sharp angles beneath the orange jumpsuit, like the weight has been carved off him rather than lost. His cheeks are hollow, and his skin is almost gray under the harsh fluorescent lights, and there are shadows under his eyes that no amount of sleep could fix. They make him look older than someone in their mid-to-late twenties has any right to look. His dark hair is cropped short and uneven in places, like it was hacked away without much care, and there’s a faint scar cutting through his eyebrow that isn’t in any of the photos I’ve seen.
The rage hits me all at once.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I spit.
I surge forward, only for the cuffs binding my wrists to bite into my skin hard enough to draw blood.
Pain flares, hot and blinding, but it barely registers through the roar in my head at the sight of Fiona’s ex-boyfriend.
I bare my teeth. “I swear to God, if you lay a single fucking hand on Fiona?—”
Freddy holds his hands up. “Cormac, calm down.”
“Calm down?” I roar, the sound ripping out of my chest. “I should have known something like this would happen. I never should have brought her here.”
“Fiona is perfectly safe.” Freddy jerks his head at the guards to leave.
I bark out a laugh. “As she’s sucked into a riot at a high-security prison with men who will do a lot worse than kill her? Fuck, you’re dumber than I thought.”
Freddy doesn’t rise to it. He doesn’t even flinch.
The door clicks shut behind the guards.
“The sooner you stop throwing around insults, the sooner we can talk.”
“Talk,” I scoff, straining against the cuffs again.
The metal scrapes my skin, and my hands are already slick with sweat and blood. “You think I want to have a conversation with you while Fiona is caught in the middle of a riot?”
He leans back against the wall and folds his arms over his chest. “That’s exactly why you came here, isn’t it? To talk?”
The calm tone of his voice feels off, considering what is going on outside this room.
And then it clicks as a cold realization washes over me.
“You did this. You orchestrated the riot.”
Freddy exhales through his nose as he presses his lips together. “I had to talk to you.”
“Who thefuckdoes that?” I thrash against the restraints again, and my wrists scream in protest. “Do you have any idea what you just put Fiona through?”
And for the first time, there’s something like regret in his eyes. “I do. Which is why she’s locked in a secure room with guards on the door. None of the inmates will get anywhere near her.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better? I’m pretty sure prison guards tend to lack a certain moral compass.”
“Would you rather I let her wander around unsupervised? Believe me, this way is better. It means we can talk without interruptions. Trust me.”
I sneer. “Trust you?”
“I know how it looks, but Lorcan forced my hand.”
My jaw tightens at the name. “I suggest you better start talking.”
Freddy studies me for a long moment, his head tilting slightly to the side. “You don’t scare easily.”
I bare my teeth. “You’d be surprised.”
A faint, humorless smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
