Tally goes quiet. “No, you wouldn’t,” he says eventually, his voice heavy. “I’m glad the son stopped you.”
“Glad? Are you kidding me?” I whip around to face him, my eyes stinging.
He leans forward, his large hands gently but firmly prying the shiv from my cramped fingers. He doesn’t let go of my hand. His thumb traces the line of my palm. “If you’d killed him, Rory, this…” he gestures around the cell, “…would be it for the rest of your life. You’d have escaped that Crankshawe guy, but you’d never be free again. At least now, you get out in a year.”
“And what then? Get delivered straight to that monster’s door?” I try to pull my hand away, but he holds fast. “I’d rather rot in here than let that creep touch me again.”
“No, babe,” Tally mutters, his golden eyes searching mine. “In here, there’s no hope. But out there? You’ve still a chance to change your future. I’m sorry, Rory, but I stand by it. I’m glad his blood isn’t on your hands.”
I turn away feeling hurt and misunderstood. “Whatever.”
All the talk of Crankshawe has made my mood even worse. Add to that, finding out my "win" against Hector was staged?
I hate being weak, vulnerable.
Fuck! I’m done being a liability.
As soon as the yard bell rings, I hurry to catch up with Sky, Imran and Lay on the way to the yard.
“I’ve got to kick it up a notch,” I tell them as we step outside. The gray drizzle is slowing, and there appears to be a break in the cloud cover forming. The hint of a sunbeam pokes through the clouds. “Stretching makes me flexible, but it doesn’t make me fast. It doesn’t give me the stamina to outrun a pack of no-men.”
“Running away is always good,” Sky smiles shyly at me. “I recommend it, hundred percent.”
I look up to the high concrete bleachers. “Does anyone want to run some stairs with me?”
Layla just smirks. “Have at it Princess, I’m out.” She disappears into the sea of Diggers.
Imran grimaces then coughs. “Don’t think so, but I’ll sit at the top and cheer you on.”
“What about you, Sky?”
She makes a face. “People will stare.”
“Let them,” I say, tightening the laces on my too big sneakers. “I’ve got to do something that makes me feel less like a statistic waiting to happen.”
“Fine,” she groans. “But only because I like you.”
We start fast but quickly slow. Holy shit, this is hard. Just running up and then down twice has us both puffing. I start singing the Rocky tune between gasps. A couple of clever-dicks catcall and mock, but fuck them.
We are wobbling down a fifth set, my legs feeling like jello, when I stumble on a chipped piece of concrete. I go down hard, but luckily it’s only a couple of steps until I bounce onto the yard floor.
Before I can even catch my breath, a dirty bare foot slams down, pinning my hair to the concrete with agonizing pressure.
It’s the crooked-nose no-man. He’s missing a couple more teeth since Tally and Clay went to town on him. And now his eyes are simmering with hatred.
“You’re going to pay,” he hisses. “Don’t think you’re safe. Soon I’ll finish what we started.”
Fuck.I don’t think he’ll attack right here, that would be suicide, but the threat still freezes me for a second.
No. Don’t let him win.
As he sneers and moves to turn away, my hand flies to my pocket. Grasping the handle of my shiv, I roll over and in one fluid motion, drive the hard plastic spike straight through the top of his foot.
As he howls in agony, I jump to my feet, grabbing a horrified Sky by the hand. “Move!”
Before the guards on the catwalk can even turn their rifles toward the source of the scream, Sky and I are back among the Diggers. We slam down onto a mid-section bleacher. The men don’t comment, just shift aside so we can sit unnoticed.
After crook-nose is dragged away, and my breathing has returned to normal, Sky and I make our way back up to the top. Sky sits next to Imran, and I plonk down next to Lay.
