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“Rockland Bachman.” He holds a hand out to me. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I’d offer my name, but he clearly already knows it. I reach my cuffed hands out to shake his.
“No touching!” The guard comes rushing at me hard and fast, a baton in his outstretched hand.
My first instinct is to fight. But here—
Rockland stops his assault with one word and a simple raising of a brow. “Stop.”
The guard, looking sheepish and confused, backs off.
Rockland waits for the disrupted air around us to settle down, then continues. “We’ve built an impenetrable empire. You think we could do that on guns and muscles alone? No, we need those things as well, but to build something magnificent, there must be the mundane to lay the foundation.” He holds my gaze. “And we need a numbers guy. And we want you.”
“Me?” I ask. “Why me?”
“Because.” He taps a fingertip against the top of the table. “You’re the one they call The Savage.”
