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To say the rug had been ripped out from under him was an understatement.
Lardner had been bad enough, but at least it was an evil that Toby had grown accustomed to. He’d learned how to keep his head down and how to curl up and ignore everything—hide away in his cell like a prey animal and wait until the coast was clear to make any sudden movements.
Now, new bedding and hygiene in hand, Toby found himself being herded into the experimental unit known as Emerald City. There were perks, supposedly, but as he looked around at the wide, brightly lit space—the glass cells, the TVs, the classrooms, the library, the computer room—Toby couldn’t help but remember that disaster after disaster seemed to have struck the Emerald City experiment over the years. The riot of ’98, for one. Death after inmate death. Most recently, there’d been that boxing match which resulted in an inmate becoming brain dead. The lawsuit was still all over the newspapers.
Disaster would strike again, and when it did, Toby knew there was a chance he’d get caught in the midst.
“...So, anyway, you’ll get used to it.” His sponsor, the cocky guy who’d introduced himself as Keller at the gate, hopped onto the top bunk of their odd, clear-walled enclosure. He’d been talking on the walk over, saying this and that about so-and-so.
Toby hadn’t heard a word.
“I’m sure…” he mumbled. Even though Keller had acted nice enough in front of the C.O who’d introduced them, Toby knew better than to expect any kindness in prison—not for free, anyway. He ducked down, busying himself with making his new bed and ignoring Keller’s dangling legs.
“So you a fag?” Keller asked.
Toby let out a huff and worked faster, smoothing his sheets down. “No.”
“Okay.” Keller’s legs swung.
For some reason, Toby could imagine the other man’s pursed lips in the silence—could even imagine his slow nod, hand stroking his chin. He straightened up and met light blue eyes… closer than expected, as Keller had leaned forward as Toby had come up.
He startled, shrinking back and stumbling against the desk pushed up to the wall behind him.
Keller only smirked a little, pointing at him and then at his own face. “What are those? Nearsighted?”
“Yes.” Toby pushed up his glasses at the mention, then leaned against the desk, crossing his arms tightly.
The move only seemed to delight Keller, and Toby wanted to smack his head against the wall. He’d told himself to take the transfer as an opportunity to present a tougher exterior.
So much for that.
Prey once again.