Page 70 of Consequences

“You knew, didn’t you?” Brock asks Tony as they walk out to the yard.

Tony just nods. “Yeah, I got word. Look, I need a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to get into a fight on the yard. Nothing big, but I need you in solitary. We gotta talk without too many ears. Just for a night.”

The thought of being locked away in a cell with nothing but a cot and toilet, if that, makes Brock’s stomach churn, but he oddly trusts Tony. “I get to go back to my cell in the morning?”

“Yep.”

Nodding, Brock agrees and looks shocked to see Beckett sitting at one of the tables. “He’s out?”

“For now. I think the warden’s trying to break him, and he’s getting pissed that it’s not working.”

He walks over to Becket and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You good, man?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

And Beckett really does look fine. “How the fuck did you not go out of your mind?”

He smirks. “Does everyone forget I was in the military? I was a prisoner of war twice. There’s really nothing they can do here that’ll top enemy forces trying to get information.”

That wasn’t expected. “What’s your opinion of Tony?”

“He’s the best of the guards. Doesn’t seem to be in the warden’s pocket.”

“Do you trust him?”

“More than the rest, I suppose.”

Sniffling, Brock feels terrible for even asking, but he doesn’t trust anyone else to be able to stay in control in a fight. “I gotta get locked up for the night?”

“That your way of asking to hit me?”

“It’ll probably get you locked away again, too. I hate to do that—”

“It’s cool. It’s my fault you’re in here anyway.”

It would be easy to blame Beckett for all of this, but Brock doesn’t. Sure, the man didn’t listen or follow the rules, but neither did Brock. He’s just as much to blame. Probably more.

“I got to call Summer.”

His eyes widen, and he glances over to Tony. “Yeah? How pissed is she?”

“Pretty pissed. She’s… She’s pregnant.”

Jaw dropped, Beckett just stares for a few moments. “Say that again?”

Brock smiles, and he nods as a weird feeling of sad happiness washes over him.What a fucking contradiction of emotions right now.“Yep, we’re pretty fertile when not using protection, I guess.”

“Fuck,” he says. “Brock, man, I’m so fucking sorry I got us into this mess. I should’ve done it alone. You’d be with your wife right now. This is all my fault.”

Patting him on the back, Brock shakes his head. Thanks to the favors Jennings called in, there’s a wide berth of enemies, including the five Beckett took out the night Brock got stabbed. Everyone pretty much avoids them now.

“No, it’s my own fault. I knew better, but I needed to prove I hadn’t lost my edge. And now I’m paying for it by figuring out how I could’ve done this without us getting locked up.”

“What are we gonna do?”

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