Page 46 of Worshiping Faith

He looks wrecked, eyes bloodshot and sunken, hands resting limp on his lap instead of fidgeting like before. His jaw is tight, his whole body drawn in like he’s nursing the mother of all crashes.

I step closer. “Hey. Things are pretty fucked up out there. Mind if I sit with you until Dax gets back?”

Jinx sweeps his heavy-lidded eyes over me. There’s less twitch to him now, his muscles sluggish instead of coiled tight. The high is gone. What’s left is exhaustion.

“Yeah,” he rasps, exhaling slowly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I toss the blanket onto the floor, drop the pillow against the bars, and lower myself down to sit. I don’t face him. Not yet.

Jinx doesn’t trust me, and if I look too eager, too expectant, he’ll shut down before we even start. This isn’t some stare-down pissing contest. I need him to feel like he has control here.

“I found some snacks,” I say, tipping the pillowcase of food onto the ground near the bars.

Wrappers crinkle as everything spills out, candy bars, chips, trail mix. I pick up a candy bar, unwrap it slowly, letting him see there’s plenty.

“See anything you like?” I reach for a soda, setting it just inside the bars.

There’s a pause, then movement. A hesitant shift. “Why you bein’ nice to me?”

Metal scrapes against metal as he inches closer. Then, the sharp hiss of carbonation as he cracks the soda open.

A moment later, his hand snakes out, grabbing a fistful of snacks like he thinks I’ll change my mind and take them back.

My throat tightens.

“That’s what I do,” I say, keeping my voice easy. “You ever heard of an inmate advocate?” I tilt my head against the bars, showing him trust, making myself look smaller, non-threatening. “Before all this went to shit, I was here to find out what that asshole Sinclair and his henchman, Doc, were doing to you guys.”

A beat of silence.

Then, wrappers tearing. Chewing. More drinking.

Good. He’s listening.

I let my tone shift, calculated but honest. “I heard they were experimenting on you.”

Not entirely a lie. I did hear that. Just not until I was already trapped here.

“Like you were nothing.”

The words hit hard in the quiet space between us.

“It pisses me off,” I add, voice dipping lower. “I want them to pay. Need proof, but no one trusts me.” I laugh, letting it sound a little bitter. A little self-deprecating. “What can a woman do, right?”

He makes a sound, half a laugh, half a scoff.

His empty soda can clinks against the bars as he sets it down.

I push the second one inside. “I shot him,” I say casually. “Sinclair.”

Jinx goes still. “No shit?”

I glance over. His deep, bloodshot eyes flick up to mine, sharper now, but still fogged over from exhaustion.

“First man I ever killed,” I admit.

A slow exhale from him. “Damn.”

Another wrapper crinkles as he unwraps something else, eating slower now.