Page 68 of Fragments

We stare at each other in silence for a beat. He looks like he wants to tell me something, but he just can’t find the words.

It can’t be from Ren… Can it?

No way. Dash wouldn’t do that to me.

Not that Ren ismineor anything… He can do whatever the hell he wants, which is exactly what he does do, all day and night, with pretty much everyone in this buildingotherthan me.

But still, Dash is different. He’s supposed to bemyfriend, above all else.

My wayward thoughts are interrupted when Joy bursts into our cell for checks, followed by Rook and Velle. Dash and I stand side by side against the wall as the two of them ransack the place for specific contraband—mainly drugs and weapons—throwing shit everywhere while Joy leans up on the bars, watching us.

Rook and Velle have this palpable sexual tension drawing them together, and it’s definitely not the first time I’ve noticed it. But I can’t even pay attention to their vibrating chemistry right now. I’m too busy peeking at my friend, wondering if he really has it in him to hide something as sneaky as fooling around with my ex in exchange for boxers and toothpaste.

My ex? Really??

Ren isnotmyex.

We were never dating. Whatever the hell we were doing was over before it started, and I don’t qualify to whine internally like a jealous moron just because he happens to be the only person I’ve ever fooled around with.

It was all a huge mistake anyway, and he’s spent every day since getting railed enough to make him the official sponsor for prison sex.

Either way, my mood has officially gone lemon sour as Rook brings us to the showers. And much to my confusing dismay, Ren isn’t there.

I don’t get it. He’salwaysaround.

For years, it’s been the two of us, despite how things changed for a while after he fucked me over, then spent that time in the East Wing. The point is that he came back.

He’s the only one whoalwayscomes back.

He’s my constant, no matter how crazy he makes me, and how much it sometimeskillsto be around him, like his proximity is laced with toxic fumes.

But for the last few weeks, he’s been showing up less and less, disappearing on me just like everyone else does, and I don’t understandwhythe fuck I even care, but it’s playing on my neuroses real bad.

Did he give up on trying to be friends? Or… is this him actually following through?

I’m quietly glum as we head back to our cell, but the moment we set foot inside, Velle pops in without a word, slapping cuffs on my wrists and shackles on my ankles.

“Where are we going?” I ask nervously, glancing at Dash and the uneasy look on his face as Velle hauls me back out into the row.

He doesn’t answer me at first, and I just shuffle to keep up with his long, chain-free strides. Passing Ren’s cell, I peek through the bars. It’s empty.

My jaw clenches. “Velle…”

Sauntering through the doorway, he glances over his shoulder. “Your assistance is required in the East.”

My pulse speeds up exponentially while we walk through doorway after doorway, hallway after hallway. The lower we get, the colder it gets, and the more pungent the scent of the ocean. In solitary row, the air feels damp, walls streaked with white from the salt.

Cracks adorn the floors and ceilings. Dead roaches decorate the corners.

God, this place sucks ass. It’s a miracle anything in here actually works.

Out of solitary, we reach the East, and as we’re ambling through their row of cells, my eyes catch sight of someone familiar. My gut seizes in panic I don’t want Velle to see, my steps slowing in front of an exam room.

O’Malley is in there. He’s strapped to a chair with electrodes on his temples.

Jesus Christ…

My brows knit in concern, but Velle barks, “Keep moving, inmate.”