All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(19)

“They inhibited my movement.”

“You get to move a lot in segregation?” she countered.

“I like to stay busy.” A corner of his mouth kicked up. He was mocking her.

She lowered her hands from him and handed him his shirt. “You should take it easy for a few weeks. No strenuous activity.”

His lips smirked like she had said something amusing.

“Why do I sense you’re not going to take my advice?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t dream of disobeying you, Nurse Davis.” He shrugged back into his shirt, still smirking, still mocking. Shirt fully on, he slid off the bed and dropped to his feet. “Are we done now?”

She stepped back. “Yes. I guess that’s it. I’ll send for a guard.”

“Thanks.”

Pushing the tray ahead of her, she sent a glance over her shoulder. No one was ever in a rush to leave the HSU. She had learned that much already. Everyone was happy to linger on one of the gray-blanketed cots, preferring it to hanging out in the general population. But Callaghan seemed almost anxious to get out of here. Maybe because he would be returning to the masses. Maybe because he didn’t like being around doctors. Or other sick people.

Except he wasn’t the squeamish sort. No. She had the strongest sense that he didn’t like her. That he was trying to get away from her. Which was ridiculous. A scary guy like him wouldn’t be afraid of anything or anyone.

Least of all her.

KNOX LIFTED HIS shoulders and rolled them in a small circle as he entered the yard, inhaling the outside air. Hopefully he wouldn’t have another visit to the hole or the HSU for a while. He knew better than to waste time wishing he would never return to seg. It was an eventuality. A reality in here that he couldn’t escape—especially as a captain of Reid’s crew. Reid had amassed one of the biggest gangs in the Rock, with as many connections inside as outside, but that meant anyone that wasn’t one of them wanted to tear them down.

Above all he was a realist. But hopefully he wouldn’t have to visit the HSU again and suffer Nurse Davis’s hands all over him. He’d rather go straight to the hole over that.

He inhaled, relishing the sweat-laced air and open space of the yard, trying to ignore the hint of pears still clinging inside his nose.

He could breathe again without a sense of the walls closing in on him. Even if he had to constantly watch his back out here he preferred this. It was better than being stuck in a smothering, airless room, his sanity ebbing away bit by bit.

He did a quick sweep of the yard, taking in everything at a glance. He could never let his guard down. A newer guy, wanting to make a name for himself, could always try to take him out. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to slip a shiv between his ribs.

His brother spotted him through ribbons of undulating heat and started toward him in his easy, long-legged gait, resembling a rangy wolf, all hard lines and sinew strolling across the yard. Knox released a small breath. Whenever he was in the hole, a part of him always worried about North. Whether he was doing okay. Whether he was safe. Whether Knox not being around, not looking out for him, would be the one factor that got his brother killed. He’d lost so much already. He couldn’t lose his younger brother, too.

North was nearly as tall as Knox, standing a little over six feet, but to Knox he would always be the kid brother he had to keep an eye on. The one that used to chase after him and his friends, pleading with them to wait up. The one that spied on him when he was making out with Gina Bagdanelli.

They looked each other over as the distance between them closed, and he realized it was the same for his brother. Every moment they were apart, North worried about him, too.

His brother wasn’t the only one studying him. Knox felt the eyes on him. Hard men assessing for vulnerabilities, trying to see if he was still injured, if his stint in the hole had somehow damaged him. Weakened his mind or body. Not a day went by that he didn’t have to look strong, hard. Unbreakable.

Stopping before him, North held out his knuckles to connect with his. “Hey, man.” He eyed the fresh scar on his forehead and then looked over the rest of him, clearly searching for other injuries hidden beneath the white of his uniform. “You all right?”

Knox nodded. “Yeah.” He motioned to his head. “It’s nothing. Takes more than a tray to crack my skull.”

North grinned, his teeth a flash of white in his tanned face. It always surprised Knox—his brother’s ability to smile. He was still good-natured. Even after eight years in this shithole.

Knox scowled at him and North sighed, killing the grin. Knox had told him enough times to cut out the smiles. Others might think him too soft. And then there was his kid brother’s face. He was too good-looking, and grinning just advertised the fact. Knox knew he wasn’t bad looking—he’d had his fair share of girls before prison—but North belonged on the cover of a magazine . . . or on a billboard advertising cologne. They had the same dark hair, but his brother’s eyes were a deep brown. There was a warm light in those depths despite all he had been through.

The first month in the Rock had been hell for both of them. They barely managed to protect each other. They had been hanging on by a thread when Reid took them in. Maybe he’d watched them fight long enough and hard enough and deemed them worthy. Or maybe he just felt sorry for them. Young, pretty boys never held up well.