Page 24 of The Sharpest Edges

“Stop. You ain’t losing it. None of these fuckers should be touching you. The rules are too damn lax, been thinking it ever since I got here. You’re the best thing this place has going for it. I worry about you when I ain’t here.”

That last part came out strangled and unsure, like he’s suggesting that she needs him to protect her, which is crazy since he can’t even protect himself half the time.

“You worry about me?” Her brows knit together, her lips forming a slight frown.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t. You have enough to worry about.”

“Because I care. I worry because I care about you,” he says quickly, not wanting her to think herself a burden.

“Oh.”

She lets out a long breath, steadying herself and looking at him with surprised curiosity. He aches to hold her all over again. Has never wanted to wrap his arms around someone as much as he does in this moment and maybe she wants it too because she leans forward enough to take up more of his space even though neither of them makes that last move that would bring her onto the bed and flush against his chest.

“I haven’t told anyone that. No one that wasn’t there, or who didn’t need to know for a report.” Her grip on his handloosens, but the gentle weight stays right where it is. “Usually I think it’s behind me. Gone. And then this happens.”

He wants to say something meaningful and solid, but he hasn’t been able to rehearse this. He isn’t good on the spot when it really counts. So he gives her hand a little squeeze and quirks a sad half-smile her way instead.

She tries to return it but it comes out as more of a sniffling, teary upturn that barely lifts the corners of her lips. “I’ll get your food.”

“The guy already showed up and dropped his coffee. So you know what that means,” Dean says with a tease, trying to lighten the mood by reminding her of that stupid bet.

It works. Her next smile reaches her eyes, creasing the edges, feeling like a victory. “If I remember correctly, that means we have lunch together.”

That is always the prize no matter who wins, and he nods with a grin, letting her sit back and pull her hand from his. Then he remembers something he’s been wanting to ask. “Hey, whatever happened to the guard that left mine too loose? Ain’t seen him at all after that.”

“I think he went to the academy for more training. He needed it. He’ll be back though. He’s scheduled for a shift next week. I’ll be back in five. We still have twenty minutes left.” And then she’s gone to fetch his food.

They have a lunch of sweet potatoes, green beans, and chicken noodle soup. He tells her about the accident on the freeway he saw earlier that morning, how the car did two spins before it finally came to a rolling stop. She tells him about the TV show she started watching, something about kids on bikes and mothers with Christmas lights.

They don’t revisit their earlier topic, but she seems lighterfor having told him about it, less like she’s holding it so close to her soul that it takes all her effort to keep it there.

Something between them feels different. Better. Stronger.

He tries to ignore the fact that they only have three more days left before he returns to the pod.

11

Chapter 11

“Why do you have so many photos of the car in here? Did the shop break it again?” Lori scrolls past the pictures of kittens and straight into another section.

“Oh, they’re for Dean.” Ava’s reply is reflexive and her regret instant.

She hasn’t talked to Lori about Dean and doing it now, while they’re discussing the incident with another inmate over coffee, isn’t how she planned to ease into the topic. If she had any plans at all, and at this point, she doesn’t. Anything she says about this fledgling relationship will come out wrong anyway, and this couldn’t be worse timing. Word spread through the grapevine like it always does and before she knew it, Lori showed up at her door, worried for Ava’s safety and insisting they talk about what happened.

“Who’s Dean?” Lori’s tone turns curious. She’s been trying to get Ava on a dating app for months.

“No one, just some guy from work. He used to fix cars, and I mentioned mine to him. I was showing him photos of the problem. It’s nothing. I’m trying to get someone to fix thisthing for free, that’s all. I barely even know him. It’s nothing.”

She said it’s no one and nothing more than once, which usually means it’s something. Add to that her over-explaining of the situation and she’s only set herself up for more interrogation.

Lori side-eyes her. “Why not invite him over to see for himself?”

“Because I don’t want a man in my driveway or my house or my life. How about that?”

“And yet you did this thing when you said his name, a weird smiley sort of thing, and then you snatched the phone back like I was about to scroll through the dick pics he sent you.”

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