“I know. Sorry about that.” The admission cuts me. I’m used to scaring people — women — but this wasn’t intentional.
“Actually,” she says, flicking her lighter. “I’m glad you stayed. I’m sorry too. You came to see your friend, I shouldn’t have bothered you like that. It was unprofessional.”
“Thanks,” I reply quickly, stunned. “It’s fine — I was being shitty. Things lately have been kinda messed up. I was annoyed, and took it out on you.”
“I appreciate that.” Gloria takes a long drag, and I watch the cherry flare, missing the sight and sensation. “I never should have unloaded my frustration with Prescott on you — I’ve just had it pent up for so long, and it came out. So, again, I’m sorry.”
I smile. “Forget about it. You gave me a lot to think about.”
“That’s good, I guess,” she says sheepishly. “Can I ask you something a little inappropriate, though?”
“Sure.”
She flicks away some ashes into the breeze.
“Did Lance not have a lot of friends? I was starting to wonder.”
“I’m wondering too,” I say, pulling out my phone. No new messages. “I invited a few to come with me today, but they didn’t even reply. I hoped it was because they already came, but I guess not.”
Gloria nods. “Visiting someone in the hospital can be scary. Seeing a friend in a coma, or in intensive care… it stays with you. Not everyone can face that — especially if they’ve never done it before. You’re a good friend for coming out here…”
“Reed.”
“Reed. Thank you for visiting.” She stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray. “If the situation was reversed, I know Lance would do the same for you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble as she heads back inside.
Marching back to my Jeep, I bite my tongue, scowling.
Gloria was being polite — she meant well — but she didn’t know Lance. If I was in a coma, he wouldn’t visit. Not a fucking chance.
No one would.
Chapter 13
Corbin seats me at the end of the work floor the next day, ensuring I have to walk past Jacqueline on bathroom breaks. Each time I go by I’m close enough to lash out — kick her shins, yank her hair — but I refuse. Even if I wanted to give her a dose of her own medicine, I’m not giving Corbin or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing us fight.
Not to mention, after a month in this hell, I’m not so naive anymore. If I take a swing at Jacqueline today, Corbin will give her a chance to pay me back tomorrow. I’m not fucking falling for it.
Wearing my bruises with pride, I keep my head down, working. Reed arrives late but immediately starts patrolling. I try not to look or draw attention to myself, but the second he sees my face he practically runs over.
“What the fuck happened?” he asks, caressing my cheek with his thumb.
“It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Reed barks. “Who did that?”
“Please, don’t worry about it.”
He scans the room, catching more than a few people watching, then quickly turns back to me. I keep my focus on him, avoiding the temptation to call out Jacqueline or the guards with a tell-tale glance.
“You’re going to tell me,” he says.
“Why? What does it matter to you?”
Reed leans in, holding my uniform’s collar. His eyes burn, but I can’t look away.
“Everybody stop what you’re doing!”