Page 28 of Claim

He huffed, almost embarrassed. “First aid course. Years ago. Accounting firms like boxes ticked.” He shrugged. “And I’ve got daughters. One who rollerblades.”

I let out something close to a laugh. Then lifted my arms. Pain flared as the fabric slid around my torso but I bit down hard, refusing the sound. Then Colin pulled it snug, careful where he tightened.

“That help?” He peered up.

“Yeah.”

It did. Enough to breathe at least.

He stepped back. “You shouldn’t have retaliated.”

I hauled myself up, climbed to the top bunk, and lay back, pinning one arm across my ribs. I stared at the ceiling.

“There are a lot of things I shouldn’t’ve done.” I spoke mostly to myself, though it answered his question well enough.

“Are they watching you now?” Colin asked after a while.

“Always were.” I turned my head to look at him. “What you should be worried about is that they’ll be watching you now, too.”

His face drained. “Because I called for help?”

“Yeah.” I looked back up. “Don’t do that again.”

Silence settled. I closed my eyes. Tried not to see Tristan behind them.

“Why did they attack you?” Colin asked eventually.

“To prove they can.”

A beat.

“Will they again?”

“Probably.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

I opened my eyes and looked down at him. “This has been my life since before I could spell fear. There’re just walls around it now.”

He swallowed. Then, as if he needed to justify his existence beside me, he started the cell confession. The chats we weren’t supposed to have.

“I’m in for fraud.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m just an accountant. Was.” A pause. “I moved money I shouldn’t have. Client funds. Not millions. Just… enough. School fees went up. Lost my job. Couldn’t tell my wife.”

I said nothing.

“I’m guilty.” He peered up, and I saw the grief, the sickness of regret, the wish he could rewind time and choose differently. I knew that look. Saw it in the mirror more often than I liked. “I know I am. But I’m not…” He gestured weakly at me. “This.”

“No shit.” I turned back to the ceiling.

“Do you have any advice for me? To get through this?”

“Keep to yourself. Don’t engage. Buy nothing from no one. Don’t even take anything they say they’ll lend you…phones, tobacco, definitely not spice.”

“I don’t smoke.” Course he didn’t. But he might by the end of his sentence. “I didn’t think we were allowed phones in here?”

I snorted. “Not allowed a lot of stuff in here that makes it in anyway. If you can get it on the streets outside, you can get it in here.”

“Right.” He chewed his lip. “And what’s spice?”