Page 54 of Psychopath

“Sometimes there’s hairs on your sleeves.”

Quinn glanced down and inspected his shirt. “Okay, so you knew what colour he was and knew I liked astronomy…but it’s still a bit of a leap. Why not Mercury or Jupiter?”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“What?”

“You said that when I asked about him. A rather abstract thing to say.”

Zane glared, and Quinn frowned. Then it hit him, and he relaxed again.

“Mars is the god of war.”

Zane grinned, and pleased lines appeared around his eyes.

“Impressive.” Quinn snorted. “But…”

“But what?”

“You could’ve just asked me, and I would’ve told you.”

Zane shrugged. “More fun this way, gives me something to do, some sense of achievement.”

“To stave off the boredom.”

“Exactly, now, come on, ask your study questions.”

“Do you like being here…in prison?”

Zane grimaced. “It has its nice points.”

“Like what?”

“I’m left alone. I have my own room, my own bed. I get fed three meals a day, which, for the most part, aren’t terrible.”

“It provides security and routine?”

“Yeah, and recently, they’ve got this cute psychologist who speaks to the chosen ones once a week. I used to look forward to porridge on a Sunday, but now Fridays are my favourite.”

“And the bad points?”

Zane blew a breath through his teeth. “I miss going outside when I want to. Dare I say it, but I miss fishing or having the option to go fishing. I don’t get to go to bars or clubs to pick up men, and I don’t have hot sex with them back at my place.”

Quinn stopped writing down Zane’s words and glanced up. The skin around Zane’s eyes was crinkled, and his lip was tugged up in a lopsided smile.

“So—so you miss sex?”

Zane snorted. “If I wanted to have sex with someone in here, I could.”

“It’s prohibited.”

“Still happens, though. But I don’t want to have sex with any of my fellow inmates. They don’t interest me. You, on the other hand…”

“Zane…”

His eyelashes fluttered, and he shifted in his chair. “I do love it when you say my name like that. Makes me think what other tones I could get you to say it. A gasp, a whisper, a plea.”

Quinn shook his head. “Let’s keep on topic. Do you think you deserve to be here?”

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