All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(28)

A week had passed since the lockdown. If he was in trouble for what went down in the HSU, they would have already acted and enforced whatever consequence they deemed fit. He wouldn’t have been walking around like business as usual.

He knew he had saved Nurse Davis from rape and maybe even worse. Maybe they would have killed her. Or killed Martinez. Or the doctor. Turned out they hadn’t killed the guard. An oversight for them. They hadn’t been about mercy that day.

Still, it didn’t mean that the powers in charge wouldn’t find him at fault. He squared his shoulders and took a careful breath. He wasn’t fool enough to think his actions had earned him any points. He was no hero in anyone’s eyes. Chester had conveyed that message clearly enough at the first opportunity.

After they hauled him from the HSU, they’d taken him to the hole. Chester had stopped by to taunt him through the door. “So I hear you played Superman in there,” he sneered. “Is that what you think you are now? Some f*cking hero?”

Knox had held silent. He knew well enough that no one cared about what he had to say. He learned more keeping his mouth shut anyway. And sure enough, Chester kept on talking.

“You got that doctor fooled telling everyone that you saved them . . . but not me. Don’t think this is going to change anything for you. You’re still scum, Callaghan.”

Ironically, he had been released from seg an hour later with no explanation. Apparently the doctor had succeeded in persuading the powers that be that he wasn’t involved in the attack. He liked to think Briar Davis had a hand in that, too. That she had found her voice to speak on his behalf. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t have been a hope, but there it was.

Gazing at the suits behind the table, he realized Warden Carter sat behind the table, too. Knox had never had occasion to speak to him before, but he was seated at the center of the table, two men on both sides of him.

“Knox Callaghan.” He gestured to the empty chair across from the table. “Have a seat.”

After a moment of hesitation, he stepped forward and took a seat. There wasn’t really any choice. There never was.

“What you did last week was remarkable,” the warden began.

Knox stared, uncertain how to respond to that.

“Dr. Walker has not stopped singing your praises.” The warden glanced to the left and right of him before looking back at Knox. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

So he was expected to speak. “I’m glad the doctor and his staff are all right.” Her. He was glad she was all right. Because he had done it for her. He couldn’t say for sure, but he doubted he would have gone through so much trouble had it not been for her.

Was she all right? She had looked so wrecked at the end. Barely clothed, her eyes huge and haunted in her pale, battered face.

Before he was hauled from the room, their gazes had locked and something passed between them. A silent exchange beyond words. She was shaken but not broken.

Her eyes had been enormous in a face that was the same shade of gray as the concrete floor. Dark smudges marred the skin under her eyes, reminding him of bruises. He was sure she had those, too, and not just what he saw on her face. Bruises all over her body. But they would fade. Probably already had. And so would that day. It would dull to memory for her.

She would put this place and what almost happened behind her. She was lucky that way. Lucky to be able to go on with her life. No scars. She wouldn’t jump at the sound of every man’s voice. There would be no nightmares she couldn’t shake, driving her to swallow a bottle of pills.

But it could have been that way. If he had just been one day longer in the hole. Or if his brother hadn’t mentioned anything to him . . .

Panic swelled up inside him before he pulled back. But it didn’t happen. It didn’t go down like that. She was okay. Nothing like his cousin.

“They are alive and largely unharmed thanks to you,” the warden continued. “A fact the good doctor won’t let us forget.” His eyebrow arched in a way that made Knox think he would have liked to forget it. He would have liked to move on.

Warden Carter sighed and looked down, treating Knox to a view of his shiny bald head as he opened a folder in front of him. He scanned it for a moment, turning one page as he said, “You were denied parole at your first hearing.”

Knox nodded. He hadn’t particularly cared. As North had been denied parole at his previous two hearings, Knox wasn’t expecting to get out at his first one. The courts had found him more culpable. It had been his idea to go rough up Mason Leary that night. He was in for eight to fifteen. North was in for only seven to twelve. It wouldn’t have felt right, leaving this place before his brother.

The warden closed the folder with a snap. “We’ve decided that you’ve satisfied your sentence. Given your heroics last week, we can expedite the process for you.”

Knox blinked and leaned forward slightly in his chair. “My next hearing isn’t until—”

“Consider us convening now, Mr. Callaghan.” The warden motioned to the gentlemen on either side of him. “Right at this moment.”

Knox stared. He hadn’t counted on being released at least for another two years. And definitely not before his brother. His gaze moved from the warden to the other men at the table. One of the suits actually smiled at him. As though he was bestowing a gift.