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That was a lie.

She realized it even as she said the words.

Her head turned, and she glanced over at a silent Hunter. “Yes, you are.” She realized that. He was her friend. He stood by her. He helped her. He’d taken her case with no hesitation, and the man was refusing any kind of payment.

He was risking his life to help her.

If that didn’t make him a friend, what did? “You are my friend.”

Hunter’s dark gaze held hers. “Friend, bodyguard, PI, lover…the man who hopes to marry you one day. I’m the full-package deal, sweetheart.”

She felt those words all the way in her heart, and some of the numbing cold banished from her body. Does he really want to marry me? Yes, yes, he did, but he was probably also saying those words because⁠—

Nate slammed his cuffed hands down on the table top. “What the fuck is this?” A snarl. “You bring your boyfriend to see me? What the hell kind of game is this?”

Her head whipped back toward Nate when his fists hit the table a second time.

The two guards lunged forward. They both slapped their hands on his shoulders.

One barked, “Settle down! Now! Or your ass will get tossed in the quiet room!”

Nate’s teeth snapped together. His handsome face—because he was still handsome, just in a brutal way—twisted with his fury, but he stopped struggling.

“Oh, tell me more…” Hunter’s voice. Rumbling. Curious. “What is the quiet room?”

“Solitary.” From the smaller guard. “Padded walls. No windows. Prisoners go in there when they need to calm the hell down.”

“Good to know.” Hunter had moved to stand right behind her. One of his hands rose to touch her shoulder.

Nate followed the gesture. His nostrils flared.

Hunter was baiting him. That had been the reason for his sweetheart use. And the reason for his touch. She got that. But his touch also made her feel better.

She was facing the monster, but she wasn’t doing it alone.

“Get off me,” Nate gritted to the guards. “I’m not going to do anything. What the hell can I do while I’m cuffed?”

They slowly backed away.

“Not like I have any control here,” Nate raged. “Not like I can do a damn thing but stare at the walls. I have no power.” His gaze pinned Shelby. “You took it all away.”

“I’m not the one who murdered six women.”

“You sure about that?” Nate’s head cocked. “Last I heard, you still can’t remember all of the events from that night. Bits and pieces.” A mocking laugh. “Can you believe they gave me death row when you could only remember bits and pieces?”

Hunter’s fingers lightly stroked her shoulder. A careful reassurance. “Pretty sure they gave you death row because your gloves had blood from some of the vics on them. Because you were gripping a torn piece of Shelby’s nightgown. And because, at the scene, instead of trying to get help, you stabbed one cop in the stomach and nearly killed another—you were only stopped when Shelby shot you.”

Nate pursed his lips. “I don’t like the new boyfriend, Shelby. He’s kinda an asshole.” More mocking laughter. “But I guess that’s your type, isn’t it?”

Anger sparked. A match, striking in the dark. “Hunter is nothing like you.”

“Really? Don’t be so certain. You attract my type. It’s that whole damaged vibe you have going on. Clings to you. Makes some guys want to protect you. Save you from every bad thing in the world.” His tongue slid along his lower lip. “Makes other guys want to do every bad thing in the world to you.”

She sucked in a breath. “I trust Hunter.” She could also feel Hunter’s growing fury. A fury directed straight at Nate. The two men seemed to be engaged in a battle—who could drive the other over the brink with rage first?

“Once upon a time, you trusted me, too.” Nate shrugged. His shackles clanked. “Until that bitch Margot convinced you I was the bad guy.”

“I walked in on you fucking her. We were over from that moment forward.”