Slammer - Page 21/83

“I have to,” he responded.

“You don’t have to fight. You could walk away.”

He chuckled, a sound that was as dark and menacing as his knowing stare.

“Why is that funny? You think it’s funny to walk away from a fight?”

“You’re clueless, Red. I don’t think it’s funny; I think it’s impossible.”

“How so?”

I flipped his hands over, cleaning some minor cuts on his palms. They were smooth and dotted with calluses, but they were probably the only spot on his body without scars. Apparently, when you kept a closed fist, it protected your palms. I admired how large and strong his hands were as I ran my gloved fingers over them.

The muscles in his arm flexed, making the hard muscle in his forearm pop. Clearing my throat, I tried not to notice how totally beautiful his physical form was. I hadn’t been turned on by a man in a long time. Not since before my dad died. Back then, I was young and able to take time away from the worries of life. But I found myself thinking crazy things when I looked at X’s lean figure and tatted skin.

It was irrational. I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself.

“If I don’t fight, I die.”

I paused and looked up at his face. My eyes moved over his tight features and lingered on the ink that crawled up the side of his neck.

I hadn’t thought about the fact that he could be protecting himself. Who in their right mind would even try to fight such a large and scary creature? I’d always thought X was the instigator. It didn’t make any sense for anyone to go against him without good reason, but evidently, I’d been wrong.

I wasn’t saying he was a saint. Obviously, he wasn’t since he was in prison for multiple counts of murder, but maybe, just maybe, he was protecting himself from the people within the walls of the most dangerous place I’d ever spent time.

I nodded my understanding since I didn’t trust my voice.

As I dried his hands with clean gauze, I slipped back into professional mode and tried to forget the last few minutes of conversation. I couldn’t afford to think of the inmates as anything but chained animals. Softening to these men couldn’t be safe, and I wasn’t about to put myself in any more danger than I already was.

Closing my eyes, I ran Dr. Giles’ warnings and rules through my head again.

Inmates are pros at lying and faking symptoms. It’s difficult, but if you examine the patient thoroughly, you should be able to determine whether they are actually hurt or just trying to earn a reprieve. You’ve already learned how to be a nurse. Now you have to learn how to take care of manipulative and dishonest patients.

I couldn’t let myself be fooled. I had to remember who the man in front of me was. He was a criminal, one I was sure was trying to manipulate me.

Internally giving myself a shake, I cleared my throat once more. “Well, Mr. Jacobs,” I said to him, trying to get our professional relationship back. “You’re all stitched up. Do try to contain yourself from here on out. I’m not sure you have any more room on your body for more scars.”

Again, he grinned. “Have you been looking at my body, Ms. Evans?”

I blushed. I felt it. It was hot and tingly as it rushed over my cheeks and down the back of my neck. I’d basically told him that I’d been staring at his body. I’d all but said I liked looking at his naked chest and strong, supple muscles.

Quickly, I changed the subject. “I’ll get some triple antibiotic ointment, and then you can go back to your unit.”

I turned and fled to the supply closet. Once inside, I pressed my back against the wall and covered my racing heart. This couldn’t go on. I couldn’t continue to treat this man.

I didn’t look him in the face when I returned to his side. I’d patched him up, done my job, and now it was time for him to leave. Putting on fresh gloves, I rubbed the ointment onto his cuts, feeling his eyes cut through me the entire time.

I didn’t breathe again until the COs had taken him from the room and returned him to his cell or to solitary. I wasn’t sure where he was going and truthfully, it was none of my business. Christopher Jacobs, or X, was not my business. I was done even thinking about him, and I’d make sure Dr. Giles knew I wasn’t comfortable treating him anymore.

CHAPTER 7

x

SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING to me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was changing. I didn’t like change. It wasn’t safe to change in prison. You had to stay vigilant, stay strong, and make sure the inmates knew not to fuck with you.