Page 27 of The Sharpest Edges

Is she sure? If she isn’t, then now would be the time to say something. She convinced herself this morning that he thought nothing of her except that she was an easy mark. Someone useable. Someone simple to throw away once he got what he wanted.

Now, she only feels bad for doubting his character, even though she doubted her own judgment more.

“I’m sure. Are we still on for lunch today? You need to check your schedule?” she jokes.

“Pfft. Got a lot on the books but, hell yeah. Wanna know what happened on the next episode of that show.”

“Oh, I see now, you want spoilers. I should cut you off cold turkey and force you to watch it when you get out.”

He shrugs. “Sit next to me and I’ll watch whatever show you put on.”

Dammit. It’s not even the words that get her, but how he says them, always sincere, never a pickup line. Even now, he doesn’t seem to realize that he asked her to Netflix and chill with him. It’s endearing in a way she’s not used to, not prepared for, and didn’t think actually existed.

“I might hold you to that,” she replies.

“I hope so.”

12

Chapter 12

Dean’s been back in the pod for twenty minutes, and everything is different.

There’s an electric undercurrent flowing through the space. People whisper and send sideways glances, all huddled in groups. No one has paid him any attention, not even Jaxson.

Being ignored is a welcome, if unexpected, thing. He could hardly enjoy the last few hours in the infirmary with Ava because his mind swam with possibilities of what could be in store for him back at the pod. Turns out, anticipation of the unknown was wasted energy.

He finds Clyde leaning up against a far wall and beelines for him, rubbing his wrists from where the cuffs bit hard into his skin. The new guard, back from training at the academy, was the one to transport him. That extra training made itself known in how he snapped those restraints in place.

“What the hell’s going on?” Dean whispers.

Clyde huffs, glancing around like a nervous junkie. “Better you don’t know.”

“The fuck does that mean? Something’s different. Peopleare acting weird.”

“Gonna be a riot.” Shivers shoot down Dean’s spine, making the hair on his arms stand on end.

What he said can’t be what he really means, but when Clyde doesn’t laugh it off as a joke, a sense of dread settles into Dean’s stomach. A riot is the last thing any of them need. He has visions of tear gas exploding and inmates turning on each other and fighting the staff. Nothing good can come from this, but it’ll happen whether Dean wants it to or not.

“When?”

Clyde shrugs. “Not sure. Soon. Any minute now. Heard Jaxson talking earlier, don’t think he knew I was around. Said somethin’ about plan A being back in place, that plan B wasn’t needed no more and to gear up for a fucking riot before the day is done.”

Dean squints. Plan A. Plan B. It doesn’t make any sense, but he isn’t part of the in-crowd in the first place. Still, it’s odd, too much of a coincidence that Jaxson is planning to fuck shit up on the very same day Dean gets back from the infirmary.

The very same day the new guard returned.

Shit. There is something there, but he can’t put the pieces together yet. He has half a mind to stay in his cell and barricade the door with his bed frame until the whole thing is over. Six months can turn into six years in a flash if he’s caught participating in whatever the hell is happening.

Then, he remembers that the infirmary hall isn’t far from the pod and it wouldn’t be difficult for the other inmates to reach Ava.

“Welcome back. You enjoy that view?” Jaxson passes by with a knowing smile. He doesn’t wait for an answer, only laughs and saunters to the other side of the room.

The suspicious silence among the inmates should be enough to have a guard investigating. They watch on the cameras from their cozy little rooms, but Dean supposes that they’d have to give a shit in order to pay attention. The pod reminds him of the woods right before a predator attacks. The birds go quiet and time slows to an eerie stillness right before some unfortunate small animal meets its untimely end.

‘Enjoy the view.’Dean turns the phrase over in his mind, watching the hands of a caged-in clock tick above the doorway.

The first time Jaxson said it, he assumed that Ava was the view. Now, he remembers all the bets he made with her in that back room, watching people coming and going from office buildings. All the traffic jams he saw on the freeway and buses on their commutes. Dean can only see a small part of the outer fence from his cell through the window no bigger than a microwave. All the other cells face the same direction and have the same small, useless openings. Not much of a view at all, nothing like that full-sized window in the infirmary.

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