Page 54 of Butterfly

Jack shook his head. “If women have been gnashing on your cock, Jonesy, they’ve been doing it wrong.”

“Unless you’re into that,” Green blurted. “Personally, I think it sounds like putting your dick into a lawnmower, but if that’s your thing, you do you.”

Jonesy sighed. “Who’s the letter from?”

Ollie had been staring at it the whole time. It wasn’t Leo’s handwriting, and it wasn’t Rory’s either. This font was flowing, neat in a way that screamed expensive. Even the corners of the envelope had gold edges. In a word, it lookedfancy.

“No idea,” Ollie replied, getting up from the table.

He retreated to the safety of the cell, opening the envelope away from prying eyes.

Any letter that began with ‘Dear Mr Linton’ immediately raised his hackles.

Beneath his name, before the main body of the typed-out letter, bold font stated it was regarding representation for his appeal.

Ollie frowned. He’d not asked for representation from anyone because he was never going to appeal his sentence. The body of the letter introduced the sender as Howard Noble, barrister.

“No thanks, Howard,” Ollie whispered, before scrunching the letter up and shoving it into his bottom drawer.

“Hey, kid…”

Ollie looked over to the door where Einstein was stood, leaning against the door frame. “I got something for Teddy.”

Ollie frowned, beckoning Einstein inside. “What is it?”

Einstein reached down the waistband of his trousers and pulled out a plastic bag.

“Recognise this?” he asked, revealing the rat from within.

Instinct made Ollie grimace and back up a step, but then he remembered the ‘rats’ were Sebastian’s way of smuggling drugs into the prison. They looked and felt so real that the officers wouldn’t dare go near them and got the prisoners to dispose of the dead rats that had succumbed to the poison scattered about the bait boxes.

Einstein threw it at him.

Ollie caught it but kept it as far away from his body as he could.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

Einstein smiled. “Something Teddy will like.”

He clacked his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he winked, then he turned around and left.

Ollie sighed at the rat in his hand. “You couldn’t have opened it up for me…” he muttered before turning to find the nail scissors by the sink.

That was how Teddy found him ten minutes later, over the sink, trying to decapitate a rat, cursing that its fur—no,fabric, was too thick.

The disgust, and yes…worry… on Teddy’s face made Ollie pause.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Ollie blurted.

His words didn’t soothe Teddy in the slightest. He looked on horrified as Ollie pulled the rat’s head off.

“You see, it’s fake. It’s not a real rat.”

He threw the head at Teddy, who batted it away.

“I’m not crazy,” Ollie said. “I’m not.”

Teddy’s expression cracked, then he rumbled with a laugh.

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