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L ife moved on without Rory.

Pauly got sent to another wing for his own safety.

The cell Rory had shared with Sebastian for the first nine months of Ollie’s sentence got filled by two new inmates, Jonesy and Braden. Ollie didn’t see much of Braden, but Jonesy had already been inside before and sidled up to Green and Jack on the first day he arrived.

They’d hugged and reminisced while Ollie stood awkwardly to one side, pool cue in hand. And just like that, Ollie had been paired with him in their daily pool games from that day forward.

Three months had passed.

Eight years to go.

Ollie didn’t like the way Jonesy looked at him.

It was the same way the kids had at school, as if they knew something about Ollie that he hadn’t yet learned. Jack seemed to catch the look too and would nudge him whenever he stared a little bit too long.

Jonesy had bright red hair, freckles on his full face, and slashes shaved through his eyebrows. He had a booming laugh; he clapped when he found something particularly funny and sulked whenever they lost to Green and Jack at pool.

Which was often.

Although his sulks never lasted long, they still made Ollie feel inadequate.

Jonesy made Ollie uneasy, but the alternative was spending every second of association in the gym with Teddy and Captain while they exercised him to a state of collapse. He’d dropped his gym time from forty to twenty minutes a day, but even so, Captain worked him like a dog, condensing his lesson down.

It was mainly defensive moves, how to escape an attacker.

“You’ll warm up to Jonesy eventually,” Green said, throwing an arm over Ollie’s shoulders. He had to hunch his tall frame to speak into Ollie’s ear.

“Ollie, Ollie, Ollie!” Jonesy yelled.

Ollie stiffened until Green gave him a shake. “Come on, you can be my partner this time.”

Jack shot them a quizzical look when Green stood side by side with Ollie.

Jack and Green shared a cell together, and if you didn’t know them, you would’ve assumed they shared a lot more. On the wing, they were more than happy to hang off each other, arms over shoulders, hugs from behind. Ollie had even seen them slapping each other’s arses a few times in the shower. They were comfortable with each other and had been cellmates since day one of their sentences. Green was the taller of the two with dirty-blond hair, blue eyes and a crooked nose from when he’d run into a glass door as a child.

Or so he said. Ollie didn’t know whether he believed it was possible.

Jack was a foot shorter with black hair, dark eyes and a serious expression most of the time.

Einstein, another inmate, had described them as yin and yang.

That had stuck in Ollie’s mind.

It also meant that after Rory had left, there had been an imbalance with them inviting Ollie along to join their games of pool.

In Green’s and Jack’s eyes, it was perfect to pair him with Jonesy; balance could be restored, and they would all live in harmony again.

Ollie forced a smile and took the first shot.

Halfway through the game, Teddy came by, cheeks flushed and sweat dotting his brow, and he strolled close enough to pinch Ollie’s side before heading into their cell to grab a towel for a shower. Jack and Green barely noticed him, but Jonesy did, sucking in a breath once Teddy had walked back down the wing.

“What?” Ollie asked.

Jonesy opened his mouth, thought better of whatever he was about to say, then shook his head. “Just…be careful.”

“Be careful?”

Jonesy hummed. “Yeah. No one knows what goes on in his head.”

Ollie blinked. He knew what went on in Teddy’s head because he’d asked him.

“He shouldn’t even be in here,” Jonesy muttered, taking his next shot.

“Jones…” Green flashed him a look.

Jonesy held his hands up in surrender. “I’m only saying. I’m allowed to have an opinion.”

“Where do you think he should be?” Ollie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack sighed, flicking his gaze at Green, who replied with a sigh.

“In some psychiatric unit,” Jonesy answered. “You know, where he’s tied down all the time for his own good.”

Ollie took a step back from the table. “He’s not crazy.”

“I’ve seen him growling and grumbling away in his own little world. He can’t speak or write or understand what’s going on.” Jonesy tapped his temple. “He’s not all there.”

Rather than fling his pool cue across the table like a spear, Ollie snorted. “He is all there, and you’re lucky he can’t hear you right now.”

Jonesy rested his cue against the table, folding his arms in challenge. “Why can’t he speak then?”

Ollie knew, Teddy had told him.

Once upon a time, Teddy could speak and write, but then, at the age of sixteen, he started getting headaches, his vision became blurred, and then the seizures started. His family were travellers. They didn’t have access to doctors and tried to manage his symptoms on their own.

At eighteen, Teddy collapsed and was rushed into hospital.

Tumour .

That was the word Teddy had pointed to in the dictionary, dispelling air through his nose in a long breath. Whenever Ollie pictured the word in his head, his blood ran cold.

Teddy’s life was saved that night with an emergency operation, but not without complications. He was unwell for months, plagued by paralysis down his right side, and without language skills. The paralysis faded, but not completely. His right hand no longer had the coordination to write, and his language skills were permanently gone. When Ollie questioned why Teddy didn’t start learning to write again with his left, Teddy stared off into space, finally answering with a word somehow worse than tumour.

Worthless .

Ollie had argued vehemently that wasn’t true, that he was worth it, and if they asked the governor or one of the officers that could be trusted, they could help Teddy to learn, and if not writing, they could learn sign language together, encourage others on the wing to learn it too.

Teddy had given Ollie the crinkled-eyes smile and ruffled his hair, saying no as politely as he could, and putting an end to the conversation.

“Well?” Jonesy demanded.

“He can speak,” Ollie replied. “But only to those who want to listen.”

Jonesy rolled his eyes. “In other words, you don’t know.”

“He speaks to me just fine.”

“Sure, if shoving his dick in your mouth counts as speaking—”

“Hey,” Jack snapped, jabbing a finger in Jonesy’s direction. “No need.”

“We all know it’s true.”

Ollie frowned, glancing at Jack, then Green. “What’s true?”

“You keep the peace by sucking Teddy’s cock. No one blames you.” Jonesy shuddered. “If I was his cellmate, I would do the same.”

Anger flared through Ollie’s chest, and a sense of he’s not your cellmate, though. Before he could reply, Green got there first.

“I didn’t know you swung that way.”

Jonesy grew even more red. “I don’t. I’m just saying, I’d rather suck a cock than die.”

Jack smirked. “And they’re the only two options, are they?”

“When it comes to Teddy, yes.”

Green grinned. “But what if it was a really ugly cock?”

Jack nodded along. “Hadn’t been washed in years.”

“Kinda like yours, Jonesy,” Green added.

Jonesy’s face turned purple. “Mine is plenty clean.”

“But would you?” Green asked. “Suck your own cock?”

“I…I what?” Jonesy shook his head. “You two are fucking weird.”

“Green can,” Jack said. “He showed me.”

Green grimaced. “It’s not as hot as it sounds.”

Jack shrugged. “I found it pretty hot when I was watching…”

Green burst out laughing, and Jack looked pleased.

Ollie never knew when they were joking or not.

“I can’t believe you both have girlfriends,” Jonesy muttered.

Jack winked. “You’d better believe it.”

“I don’t suck Teddy’s cock,” Ollie interrupted, but his voice came out breathless.

He didn’t, he really didn’t, but the words suck and cock coming from his mouth made him dizzy and his cheeks burn.

Jonesy boomed with laughter. “Well, that convinced no one.”

“I don’t.”

“Even if you don’t right now, you will. He learned from his mistake, that’s all.”

Ollie frowned. “What mistake?”

“Jonesy, zip it,” Jack snapped.

Jonesy ignored him. “The mistake he made with his previous cellmate, Ryan.”

Green shook his head. “Seriously, shut it.”

“One of two things happened,” Jonesy continued. “Either Teddy pushed that pill into Ryan’s mouth, killing him so he’d have a replacement who’d be more willing to suck his cock, or Ryan swallowed that pill so he didn’t have to get down on his knees for Teddy anymore…”

“Jesus,” Green grunted. “Smack him one, will you?”

Jack walloped Jonesy across the back of the head.

“Ouch!” Jonesy ducked, anticipating a second strike. “What the hell was that for?”

“Not listening to us and shutting the hell up,” Green replied.

“Anyway.” Jack shook his head. “Whose go is it?”

“Teddy didn’t do that.” Ollie glared at Jonesy. “He didn’t kill his cellmate. He’s not like that. He’s protective, he’s caring, he’d never force himself on anyone…and if they rejected him, he’d never hurt them.”

Green and Jack both grimaced.

“Fuck me.” Jonesy dragged his hands down his face. He glanced around the wing. Their conversation had earned them an audience, and instead of speaking to Ollie, Jonesy spoke aloud to everyone else. “Are you all serious right now?”

No one answered.

Jonesy singled out Green and Jack. “And you claim to be his friends.”

“We are,” Green said.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “But we might not be yours anymore if you keep on.”

“Do you know why Teddy is in here?” Jonesy directed at Ollie. “Has anyone told you?”

Ollie pressed his lips in a firm line. He didn’t know the details, but he knew enough. He knew it was four . Teddy had been inside for over ten years and had told Ollie he would never be released.

“He killed one of his friends,” Jonesy said. “Gary. A guy he’d known since they were both in nappies. They were travellers together, had their caravans pitched close to each other. He set fire to the caravan, killing Gary, Gary’s mum Sally, Gary’s ten-year-old sister Blake and her best friend Annie, who happened to be sleeping over that night.”

Ollie opened his mouth to retort, to deny. His skin flushed with everybody staring at him, awaiting his reaction.

“He’s deranged.” Jonesy snorted. “And I can’t be the only person who thinks he might have killed Gary for the same reason he killed Ryan.” When no one spoke, Jonesy rolled his eyes. “Gary rejected him too.”

Ollie’s voice was small when it left him. “That’s not the Teddy I know.”

Jonesy sagged. “I know, but you need to be aware of that Teddy too. He doesn’t take ‘no’ well. Ryan said no to him. He told me so himself, and a month later, he’s dead. Suicide. Ask anyone in here whether he seemed suicidal, and they’ll tell you he didn’t.”

When Ollie looked around, the other inmates averted their gazes. Only Einstein, the old man with the wisps of white hair on both sides of his head, looked right back at him.

“No one knows what happened to Ryan that night,” Einstein said. “Both internal and external investigations were carried out. They don’t know where he got that pill, and they couldn’t prove Teddy had anything to do with his death—”

“They couldn’t prove it,” Jonesy jumped in, “but they suspected, like we all did.”

“No.” Einstein shook his head. “Not all of us.”

“That’s because you didn’t like knowing your buddy Sebastian had supplied the pill that killed him.”

“That’s a lie.” Einstein slammed his fist down on the table. “Sebastian wasn’t the only person bringing in drugs, you know that.”

“Could’ve been Pauly,” Jack suggested.

“Or Tristram,” Green added. “I heard his stuff was dodgy at best. You never knew what you’d get with him. He’d scratch Es into any pill he could get his hands on.”

“Hell,” Einstein muttered. “For all we know, Ryan’s girlfriend smuggled it to him at their last visit and it was a tragic accident.”

“Why would she smuggle him morphine?” Jonesy asked. “And such a high dose. Those drugs aren’t even kept on the hospital wing—”

“She could’ve been trying to kill him,” Green suggested.

Jack frowned. “Or more likely trying to help, Ryan wasn’t well, remember? Whoever gave him that pill probably didn’t realise how dangerous it was.”

Jonesy huffed. “He took that pill because Teddy kept sexually assaulting him and he couldn’t take it anymore.”

“So you think it was suicide then?” Green asked. “Not Teddy bumping off his cellmate for a cock-hungry one?”

“I don’t know,” Jonesy snapped. “That’s beside the point.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“He’s the reason Ryan is dead. I can’t believe none of you have warned Ollie about Teddy,” Jonesy muttered. He jutted his chin out at Ollie. “Bit of advice, if he hasn’t already pushed you to your knees and pulled down his trousers, just go with it when he does…you’ll end up dead if you don’t…”

Einstein relaxed his clenched fist.

All the other inmates drew in a collective gasp of breath.

Green joined Jack’s side, and they both backed off from the table, leaving a stunned Jonesy behind. Jonesy’s cheeks lost their vibrant hue; even his orange hair seemed to dull with fear. His eyes were wide, unblinking on Teddy, who stood on the wing, breathing hard and fast from his nose.

Ollie had no idea how long he’d been there, how much he’d heard.

His eyes said he wanted to pummel Jonesy into the floor, but he held himself back.

Ollie knew he was the reason for his restraint.

He’d told Teddy it brought back bad memories when he fought on the wing.

His father’s fists and steel toe cap boots.

Blood.

Its taste, its smell, the sight of it on the floor and the sensation of it running from his nose over his lips.

No one moved on the wing, not even the officers close by who’d been watching the whole time, twitched.

Everyone waited for Teddy, and Teddy waited for him.

Ollie backed off from the table. He turned around, headed into his cell, and pushed the door closed.

Then he waited.

The wing didn’t explode into violence despite Ollie giving his blessing by removing himself.

What happened next was Teddy’s decision to make, not his.

The cell door opened.

Ollie slumped with relief at the sight of Teddy.

“Thank you,” Ollie exhaled. He dropped his forehead on Teddy’s shoulder.

Whenever Teddy let loose his anger, he got sent to the segregation unit for as long as ten days at a time. Ollie told him he missed him when he was gone, and Teddy confessed he missed Ollie too.

The noise picked up outside of the cell, maybe more restrained than before, but it slowly increased.

Ollie lifted his head and searched Teddy’s eyes. “It’s not true, is it? About Ryan?”

Teddy replied with a blank look.

“You didn’t force a pill into his mouth to get rid of him, and he didn’t kill himself because you were pressurising him into…into….” Ollie swallowed. “Into sex?”

Teddy hesitated, only for a moment, but Ollie thought he might faint.

Then Teddy shook his head, and Ollie collapsed onto the bed, sitting down with his head in his hands. He exhaled a long, slow breath.

“What happened that night?” He lifted his head to catch Teddy’s reply.

Teddy shrugged.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There must’ve been some kind of sign he wasn’t okay.”

Teddy shook his head. He reached for the dictionary, then sat beside Ollie on the bottom bunk. Ollie waited patiently while Teddy flicked through, finding words to speak in full sentences. Time wasn’t an issue for them; they had plenty, and Ollie had learned to be patient.

He was ill.

“In what way?” Ollie asked.

Headaches, nausea…a nasty virus had been on wing. I had it, got better. A lot did. He went to bed early. In the morning, he was dead.

“He took something… Maybe he thought it would help?”

Teddy closed his eyes. He nodded.

“Who gave it to him?”

Still with his eyes closed, Teddy shrugged.

“Jonesy said Ryan…rejected your advances.”

Another flash of heat fizzled in Ollie’s stomach. He pushed it away.

Teddy nodded again.

“You loved him?”

Teddy’s eyebrows shot up. He shook his head, then nodded.

“Oh…” Ollie’s voice sounded distant to his own ears.

Teddy held up the dictionary, pointing out the word Friend .

“You loved him as a friend?”

Yes . Teddy rubbed his chin. Urge .

“You had urges?”

Yes.

“Sexual urges.”

Teddy nodded.

“You weren’t angry that he didn’t want to help with your…urges?”

Teddy snorted softly, then shook his head.

He took a slow breath, then tossed the dictionary on the bed and got to his feet.

“I knew you hadn’t hurt him,” Ollie muttered. “And…and…Gary?”

Teddy stiffened, turning his back on Ollie. His shoulder stayed up.

Ollie bit his lip, wondering whether he should continue or not, but he needed to know that Jonesy was wrong, that Teddy hadn’t killed Gary and his family because of a rejection. It must’ve been something else, and there was no way Teddy meant to do what happened.

“It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

It had to be.

He didn’t know how something like that could accidentally happen, but there was no way Teddy would do that.

Ollie leaned forward, eager for his fears to be soothed.

Teddy shook his head, turning to Ollie.

Ollie swallowed. He tasted bile at the back of his throat. “You…you wanted to hurt him?”

Teddy bit his lip.

“Kill him?”

Teddy shook his head slowly.

“He was horrible to you. He’d hurt you, deserved—”

Teddy shook his head again, closing his eyes.

“Why did you kill him then?”

Teddy didn’t answer. He lowered his gaze, making it clear he wasn’t going to.

“No,” Ollie snapped.

Teddy reopened his eyes. He no longer radiated warmth. His expression was worn down, sagging with sadness, and it spoke of his guilt.

Ollie wanted to jump to his feet and shake him until it went away.

Because there was no way Teddy could do something like that.

“I don’t believe it. What about his mum, his sister, his sister’s friend?”

Teddy took a step closer, and Ollie flinched. Teddy’s expression crumpled, but he didn’t back away. He reached for the dictionary and flicked through the pages.

Accident.

Teddy wouldn’t meet Ollie’s eye.

“They were innocent; they were all innocent.”

Teddy kept nodding, but there were tears in his eyes.

“I don’t believe it.”

Teddy stilled.

“I don’t believe it,” Ollie said with more bite.

Their gazes clashed.

The look in Teddy’s hard eyes said, I did it.

“You did something in anger…and then couldn’t take it back?”

Teddy nodded.

“Will you do it to me? If I make you angry?”

Teddy’s jaw hung open. There was real, true horror on his face at such a thought. He shook his head, panting from his nostrils.

“Will you set fire to my bed while I’m sleeping and burn me alive?”

When Teddy stepped towards Ollie, Ollie shuffled back on the bed, keeping a distance, and Teddy’s distress seemed to skyrocket. He kneeled in front of the bed, a deep rumbling from his throat escaping his clamped-shut mouth, and his eyes were round with terror.

“ Why ? What happened?”

Teddy shook his head.

“Something must have! If you don’t tell me, how do I know you won’t do that to me? How can I be sure I won’t set you off?”

Teddy cowered like he’d been slapped. He grabbed the dictionary.

Trust me.

“But—”

Teddy flipped the pages, interrupting Ollie.

You trusted me up until now.

And it was true, Ollie had. Teddy had shown him countless times that he would protect him. He’d never got angry with Ollie, or expressed frustration, or annoyance.

I will never hurt you.

“What if—”

Never.

Ollie eased out a breath. Teddy trembled, and his grey eyes were glassy with tears.

Never, never, never.

There was guilt in Teddy’s expression; Ollie felt it coming from him. It made him think of the lack of his own. The murder of his father. Teddy might not be willing to share what had set him off to commit that crime, but he regretted it. He felt guilt. It haunted him when he slept; he’d woken up gasping more than once.

But Ollie.

Regret didn’t follow him around.

Only a sense that he should’ve been less cowardly and done it sooner.

If he could turn back time, he’d kill him all over again, but he knew Teddy wouldn’t.

Which surely made Ollie more monstrous.

“Okay,” he said softly.

Teddy exhaled, sinking down to rest his forehead on the edge of the bed. He stayed like that, just breathing until Ollie stretched out his legs and shuffled closer. Teddy wrapped his arms around Ollie’s middle, hugging him while resting his head in Ollie’s lap.

Shouts of ‘lock-up’ went around the wing, and cell doors began banging shut.

“Let’s get ready for bed,” Ollie whispered. “I fancy an early night.”

Teddy lifted his head and took a long moment just to look at Ollie, taking him in fully, before nodding.

That night Ollie lay on the top bunk, the day and all the revelations on repeat in his head. He missed Rory. If Rory was still there, it would’ve been him he’d go to the next morning, him he’d try to work things out with.

He had Green, Jack, and Captain, but it was easier to bare his heart to Rory.

What would Rory say?

Trust your gut…

Up until that day, Ollie’s gut had trusted Teddy.

He still did trust him.

But what did that make Ollie?

A killer sympathiser?

A horrible person?

He knew that about himself anyway.

Teddy had said the murders were an accident. It felt like a lie, but Ollie couldn’t judge… He’d wanted to kill his father.

He’d planned it.

He’d lived it a hundred times in his twisted head.

There was a darkness inside him he’d called on that day.

It was still there.

The bed shifted as Teddy got to his feet. Ollie could barely see the cell with the lights out, and only a faint glow from the window shone on Teddy’s face as he stood by the side of Ollie’s bed.

Teddy exhaled, then reached out a hand. He stroked Ollie’s forehead like one might pet an animal. It was odd, strange, but Ollie didn’t tell him to stop, and sure enough his eyes, which had been staring up into darkness for hours, slid shut.

He drifted off and dreamed of fire—skin-melting, bone-burning—fire.