Say You're Sorry by Melinda Leigh

Author:Melinda Leigh [Leigh, Melinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503948709
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2017-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Twenty

Jail, day 3

Nick hunched over his breakfast tray. Although his stomach pinched with hunger, he waited for the older inmates to grab their trays. Like high school, much was inferred through your choice of where to sit for a meal.

At first, he’d been afraid that every inmate was forced to choose a gang, but it seemed that only a rough third of the population of D-pod were actually gang members. The Man’s information wasn’t exactly correct. If tattoos were accurate, the Aryan Brotherhood, the Bloods, and the Mexican Mafia were all represented, but they gave each other space, as if some sort of wary truce had been achieved.

Since surveillance cameras and guards watched 24/7, maybe they’d all agreed that attacking each other here was pointless.

The other forty-odd inmates had their own smaller social groups. A small gathering read the Bible and prayed before breakfast. There was a study group. Nick hadn’t expected that. And one popular, geeky guy gave out free legal advice, which seemed to have earned him respect and maybe even gratitude, among the other inmates.

For now, Nick was still keeping to himself and observing as much behavior as possible before he would inevitably be forced to interact with the others. So far, there’d been mostly silent assessment.

He’d already learned that first-timers were called fish.

He grabbed a tray. He took the empty end of the prayer group’s table. He kept his head down and ate, barely tasting the oatmeal, hard-boiled egg, and milk on his tray. The portions were small, and his stomach was not nearly full when his food was gone. Other inmates traded food, and there must have been a place to buy food because an older guy was cooking ramen in a microwave—another surprise.

Nick hadn’t expected this much . . . freedom.

An odd word for the inside of a county jail, but although the men were all locked up, they moved about the room at will. No one was locked in a tiny cell. It seemed that as long as you obeyed the rules, both the official and unofficial sets—and no one was out to get you—this was how it would be.

But the way the other inmates studied Nick told him he wasn’t going to be so lucky.

He ate quickly, feeling vulnerable out in the open. Depositing his tray back on the cart, he retreated to his mattress on the floor. He felt better with his back to the cinderblocks.

A few stragglers sat at empty tables. One guy cleaned tables. Another mopped the floor. Two guys played a game of chess, and a small group banded around them to watch. Nick almost wanted to go over and see if he could get in line to play, but he watched from a distance. He still attracted too much attention. There was a tension he couldn’t describe building in the room. And it seemed to swell whenever one of the other inmates made eye contact with him.

The walls were depressing. The food was depressing. On top of fear, sheer hopelessness weighed on him like a steel blanket.

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