Remembering what Peyton had said when she came to visit him in the infirmary, he let himself drift toward sleep. All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I close my eyes you’re there.
No matter how this ended, at least he had that.
Wallace was still up, looking annoyed as he used her remote to scan through the television stations on her TV. Peyton couldn’t help resenting his presence even more now. Why wasn’t he gone? Or at the motel?
Telling herself to be diplomatic—she or Virgil might need Rick’s support as they navigated the next few weeks—she tried to bear up under the stress of having him around, in addition to what Weston Jager had said in his note, and forced a smile as she walked in.
“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked, her tone friendly.
He dropped the remote and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been waiting for you. I felt bad I was tied up when you came home earlier. Didn’t mean to chase you off.”
“You didn’t chase me off. How’s it going with your wife?”
“You know how it is with relationships,” he said. “One minute everything’s fine and the next…” He clicked his tongue. “She’s coming up with all these stipulations and demands.”
“Divorces are never easy.”
“She wants to take the kids out of state so she can live near her parents. Can you believe that? They moved to a small town in Wyoming a couple years back and she’s trying to convince me it’ll be the perfect place to raise the girls. It might be perfect for her, because she’ll never have to deal with me, but I’ll never get to see my kids.”
“She doesn’t care about that?”
“She says I’m so busy I don’t see them, anyway. She doesn’t understand the pressure I’m under, never has.”
“It’s hard to understand unless you live it,” she said, but she suspected his tendency to put his own needs, wants and desires first was more to blame than his job. “Just a sec.” She went into the kitchen to set her purse on the counter and plug in her cell phone.
“Give me an update,” he called. “How’d it go with Skinner today?”
“Not as smoothly as I’d hoped. Can I get you a glass of wine?” she called back, but a quick glance in her fridge told her he’d already availed himself of the beer John had left behind when he’d brought dinner. “No, thanks.”
She poured herself a splash of chardonnay and carried it into the living room.
“So?” he said. “What happened?”
“Virgil’s already been shanked,” she announced.
His eyebrows shot up. “That didn’t take long. How badly is he hurt?”
She sat across from him because she couldn’t bear to sit any closer. “He’ll be okay, but the injury required twenty-six stitches.” After kicking off her heels, she tucked her feet underneath her. “Four men jumped him in the dining hall.”
“Four? He’s lucky to be alive. How’d he do?”
“He put three of them in the infirmary. They have to be impressed.” Which was what Virgil was hoping, of course. “Whether or not the damage he inflicted makes them want to kill him or recruit him remains to be seen.”
Wallace whistled. “We’re off to a running start.”
“There’s more.”
He was wearing the clothes he’d had on yesterday, but he’d removed his tie, if he’d ever had it on to begin with, and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m all ears.”
“Weston Jager passed me a message.”
“Weston is…?”
“A high-ranking member of the Hells Fury.”
“Right. I’ve heard you talk about him before.”
“He’s also one of the men who went after Virgil.”
“Any chance you could call him something else?”
“Like…?”
“Skinner or Bennett. Every time you say Virgil, it’s as if…as if you consider him our equal.”
This was what he focused on instead of asking about Weston’s message? “He is our equal! Why do you always have to put him down?”
“Why do you always have to defend him?”
She dropped her feet and scooted to the edge of the couch. “I should never have told you what happened between us. You can’t get past it.”
“I could if you didn’t give away your true feelings every time you mention his name! Was he that good in bed?”
He was amazing, the best, but not because he was so skilled at pleasure. Their night together, before she’d spooked him into throwing up his defenses, was the most honest sex she’d ever had, the first time she’d made love with a man whose soul was as bare as his body. Their night together had meant a lot to her. “You’re making too big a deal out of it,” she muttered. “I am?”
“Yes!”
“Fine. I just—” he pinched the bridge of his nose “—maybe it’s him. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“This morning? At the table? There was so much raw desire coming off him it felt like he was making love to you right there in front of me. And he didn’t care whether or not it bothered me.”
Why would he care how it affected Rick? Wallace thought the whole world revolved around him. What was going on between her and Virgil had nothing to do with anyone else. It didn’t have anything to do with what Virgil was trying to accomplish or what she had dreams of doing, either. It was just…there. Unexpected, inconvenient, frightening in ways, but inescapable.
To avoid an argument, she attempted to redirect the conversation. “Can we talk about what really matters?”
“I’m in the middle of a divorce, Peyton. I’m trying to let you know that I’m interested. And all you can do is obsess about someone who’d be terrible for you. Do you realize that getting with a guy like that would ruin your whole career?”
She wanted to ask how Virgil would ruin her career. As long as they waited until after the investigation, it should be fine. But Rick hadn’t qualified his statement. If she chose Virgil over him, would he try to sabotage her position with the CDCR?
She suspected he might, which was shocking and insulting and only made her dislike him more. But Virgil’s stint in the infirmary was too fresh for her to forget the danger he was in. Maintaining the peace with Rick would create a far more stable foundation from which to help him. Anything unrelated to getting him out as quickly as possible could be dealt with later. “I just told you that Weston Jager passed me a note. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what it said?”
“What’d it say?” he asked, but she could tell he was still preoccupied with his jealousy.
She removed the torn paper from her pocket and handed it to him.
“‘Get me out of here, and I’ll get your man in.’” He glanced up at her. “What the hell?”
“I put him in the SHU because of the fight. I didn’t want to give him and his pals the chance to gang up on Virgil again. I felt the others would be much less likely to attack if Weston wasn’t there to give the go-ahead. Even if they did, Virgil would have one less opponent, right? But Weston’s scared of spending too much time in the SHU, blames his buddy’s stay there two years ago for sending him to the psych ward for good. So he wants out and he’s offering us a deal.”
“Then he knows?”
“That’s the odd part. I don’t think he does.”
“But this note…”
“Weston would never turn. He’s too strong right now, too angry. And if he knew, he would’ve gone after Virgil in a different way. It would’ve been serious from the beginning.”
“Getting shanked isn’t serious?”