Page 8 of Fragments
“Doesn’t matter,” Ren hisses. “Why the fuck did you bring it down to the rec room, anyway? It wasn’t even yours. You fucked us all over.” He peeks at me.
I roll my eyes. “You guys are idiots. What did you think was gonna happen?”
Ren’s head lolls backward for a moment. “Do you have any idea what I had to do to get that fucking phone??”
“Stuff you would have been doing regardless…” I mumble under my breath.
He shoots me a wounded look, but covers it up and sighs. “I think Jasper bruised my esophagus.” He rubs his sternum.
Kang lets out a laugh, and Ren’s lips curve. I can’t help but scoff a chuckle myself, which widens Ren’s smile. He likes making me laugh, even when it’s at him and his whorish ways.
“I barely even got to use the damn thing, Byron,” Ren murmurs, side-eyeing Kang. “So you owe me. Like I said, it wasn’t for you.”
Blue eyes slide to me once more, and my gaze at him narrows.
His foot brushes mine under the table. I kick him, and he chuckles.
“I have something else I’m working on getting.” Ren grins at me.
“Don’t care.” I shovel more shitty eggs into my mouth.
“Yeh got any more butts?” O’Malley asks him.
Ren pries his gaze off of me to peer at him, offering a quick nod. “Hancock made a nice deposit last night. He gave me a bag of snacks too. If you’re still hungry, Lexington” My eyes creep up to his. “Something special, just for you.” His foot taps mine again.
“Fuck off, Ren.”
“Smartfood popcorn and Mountain Dew…” he sings, wearing that damn smirk to death.
My favorite.
My stomach grumbles, betraying me. But I scowl at him. “Not interested.”
Ren leans in on the table and whispers, “Anything you want, Lex.Anythingat all, I’ll get it for you.”
My blood is boiling in an instant. Memories assault my mind, flashes of a slideshow, from years up until this moment. The Luthor I see in them is a very different person from the hardened shell sitting here right now.
The showers running…
Echoing moans.
Biting down hard on the inside of my cheek, I glare directly at the topaz in his irises. “I don’t want anything from you,Warren. You should know that by now. Every move you make comes with consequences.”
He flashes me vulnerability; the same look of longing regret I saw all those years ago.
But it’s a lie, just like it was back then. He covers the look with a casual flippancy that doesn’t quite reach the pain and rage just beneath his lace-thin surface.
And he shrugs. “Fine. Your loss.”
Right.
Alwaysmyfucking loss.
The cold is easing up.
Alabaster Penitentiary is like an icebox. The concrete holds in the cold, even when it’s not necessarily that cold outside. When itis, it’s brutal.
The winters here are purely awful. In times like the dead of January, even those of us not prone to cozying up to guards for goods consider getting on our knees for a goddamn electric blanket or something. Thankfully, it’s never come to that for me.
