Psychopath: MM Prison Romance (Behind Bars Book 2) by Louise Collins

Author:Louise Collins [Collins, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-08-20T00:00:00+00:00

13

The prison governor learned of the attack on Quinn, and instead of being sympathetic or even apologetic over the incident, he held the study hostage and told Quinn if he reported what had happened or told his peers, the study would be cancelled.

Quinn agreed to keep his mouth shut, and after a week of negotiations, he was able to continue interviewing his selected prisoners.

Cleo led him to a different room. One that was used as a visiting room with added protection. It kept prisoners and visitors separate, with a reinforced window between them. They needed to talk into a microphone on the desk, and their voices came out of speakers.

It was impersonal and added a distance between Quinn and his subjects he didn’t like.

“It’ll keep you alive, though,” Cleo told him.

“But how do I get documents to them?”

Cleo tapped a hatch beneath the window. It looked like a letterbox. “Slide them through here.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll go get Harris for you.”

“Thanks.”

While he waited, he stroked his throat. A faint bruise had formed from ear to ear. The scratches had healed, and the scabs had fallen off, leaving small slashings of white skin. Quinn couldn’t touch the area without thinking of Zane’s mouth, and that led to thoughts of his hand, and Quinn not having been strong enough to resist.

He got aroused, and ashamed, a few times a day, every day, and had almost taken the easy road and reported the incident with Mackie to his superiors to get the study ended.

That would’ve been months of hard work thrown away.

That would’ve meant no more seeing Zane.

Not one of the participants complained about the new room. They all knew Mackie had attacked him and expressed, or at least faked, concern over Quinn.

When Friday arrived, and Zane strolled into the room. He glanced around, zeroing in on the camera, then took his seat at the desk on his side. He leaned into the microphone.

“Now this is more like it.”

Quinn sighed. “It feels like I’m separate.”

“You are.”

Quinn flapped his hand. “I didn’t mean physically. I’d built up a…trust, and now—”

“You can’t trust anyone in here.”

“I know, I didn’t mean…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“This looks much safer,” Zane said, “But I will miss our games of footsie under the table.”

“We never played footsie.”

Zane snorted. “I was building up to it, and of course, there’s absolutely no chance of me groping you anymore.”

Quinn widened his eyes. “Behave.” He shook his head. “Besides, I thought you preferred this Hannibal Lecter arrangement.”

“I do. It’s better for your safety, which means I can sleep at night.”

“I don’t think I’ve had a good sleep for weeks,” Quinn admitted before shaking his head. “Ignore that I said that.”

“I can’t ignore anything you say.” Zane pressed back into his chair. “Is it a good kind of insomnia?”

“How is insomnia ever good?”

“Are you lying in bed thinking about a particular erotic incident that leaves you aching and unable to sleep?”

“Zane…” Quinn warned. He massaged his reddening cheeks.

“Only asking.” He smiled.

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