Page 48 of Butterfly

“For luck,” he explained.

Shock, then outrage descended on Teddy’s face. Ollie darted out of the cell before he could be caught. Looking over his shoulder, waiting for Teddy, he walked straight into another inmate.

The air left his lungs in a whoosh.

“Sorry,” he blurted, reaching down to help the inmate with his bag. His clear plastic bag. The wing had an eerie silence to it, and that only happened when a fight was about to happen, or when someone new stepped onto the wing.

Officer Seinfeld stood beside the inmate, sighing down at Ollie as he scrambled to pick up the prisoner’s belongings and shove them back in the bag. The new inmate, a middle-aged man with messy black hair and narrowed eyes, stared at Ollie. His lips quirked, then spread into a smile.

“That’s okay, I’m sure you can make it up to me…”

Teddy made a revving sound from his throat, a warning to the inmate.

Everyone else knew what it meant. Even Seinfeld backed up a step, but the inmate in front of Ollie carried on like he hadn’t heard.

“Let me get settled in, and then you can show me the showers.” He winked.

Teddy eased Ollie aside, coming face to face with the new inmate.

“Come along, Keiron,” Seinfeld tried, but the inmate didn’t budge. He looked Teddy up and down, undeterred by the sound coming from him.

“What do you say?” he asked. “First time for free after he knocked into me, second time I’ll pay, providing he’s any good.”

Teddy launched himself at Keiron, swinging his fist and kicking his leg. It wasn’t pretty or intricate, the way Teddy fought, but it doubled Keiron over, then laid him out on the floor in seconds. The bell rang; Seinfeld wisely didn’t interfere until he had adequate back-up.

Then it was the officers trying to subdue a raging Teddy. One hard baton strike to the side of Teddy’s knee dropped him to the floor. He winced, then winced again when he was shoved forward onto his front. His chin hit the ground, and he grunted.

Ollie rushed forward as the officers began to pile on top of Teddy, only to be stopped by Captain.

“Don’t get involved.”

“But—”

“Teddy can take care of himself.”

“Back in your cells,” Seinfeld shouted. He pointed at Ollie. “Inside, now.”

Captain released his hold on Ollie’s arm. “Later.”

“Later,” Ollie echoed, retreating to his cell. Seinfeld locked the door on him, and he perched on the edge of Teddy’s bed, knowing it would be days until he was back on the wing.

He sighed, curling around Teddy’s pillow and thought about adding another line to his letter.

The hardest part of being inside was when he was separated from Teddy.

“Today?”

“No.”

“What about today?”

“Still no.”

“Is today the day?”

“No.”

“Surely…today?”

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