Page 12 of The Care of Broken Things
He had already stalked off, but still managed to catch Eli’s, “Sleep well, Samuel.”
The fucker.
Chapter Four
A Concussion or Two
He had to scare off another shithead the next day. This time it was a guy called One-Ball (motorcycle accident) who was timing his showers with Eli’s again.
He waited for the CO to turn the corner, then shoved the man into the wall hard enough to rattle the teeth in his head. “Back off.”
“What?”
He punched him. Not across the face like an amateur, but in the stomach, where the sound was muted, and the pain was worse. One-Ball crumpled to the floor with a soundless gasp. That was another benefit to a good stomach punch. Without breath, you couldn’t shout.
“Thompson’s out of your league, you stupid shit.”
He had to dispatch another idiot soon after. Some Casanova who decided to be slick and bring Eli some lunch. Samuel shoved the tray up into the man’s face and sent him crashing into a table. He’d meant to make it look like an accident, but he went too far. It was sheer luck that the bump dissolved into a fight that involved multiple prisoners, otherwise he’d have been singled out and sent to solitary where he wouldn’t be able to protect anyone.
He thought the trouble had been averted, but then Eli himself appeared before him, and all the good humor was gone. “What happened at lunch?”
He tried to go past him. “Lunch happened at lunch.”
Eli grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around. “Why are you picking fights?”
He jerked away. It took too much of his strength. The man was strong. Maybe stronger than him. The corners of his vision went black.Danger.
He made himself straight and strong. “The asshole bumped into me. It’s not my fault he’s clumsy.”
His back hit the wall. “There,” Eli said, voice flat. “NowI’vebumped into you. What are you going to do about it?”
The floor was tilting and his throat burned.Danger.DANGER.
Eli stepped back. “You can’t get into fights. What if they add more time to your sentence?”
He forced himself to swallow the scream building in his chest. “What does it matter? I’m never getting out of here.”
Eli slapped him. It wasn’t hard. It didn’t even twist his head around, and it definitely wouldn’t leave a mark, but it shocked him into wordlessness.
“Doesn’t matter? I hope you don’t say things like that to your sister when she comes to visit.”
“Fuck you. Holier-than-thou asshole. Lecturing me like you aren’t wearing the same jumpsuit I am. Or did you forget about that,inmate?”
Eli pressed his hand to the cheek he’d just abused. “I didn’t forget.”
The hand on his face was more shocking than the slap had been. He stumbled back, his body still screaming at him to run.
“I’m sorry, Samuel. I shouldn’t have done that, but I was anxious. I heard one of the guys in the fight got sent to solitary, and I thought—”
“What do you care?”
The question burst out of him, sounding like just another moment of rudeness, but it was a real question.
“I told you. You’re my friend.”
“You’ve known me less than a week.”
“It was enough.”
