Chapter 41
The suppressant had done its work well enough that his brain, though still sluggish, was working again. His cheeks flushed as lurid images of his hormone-driven frenzy surfaced, but he dismissed his embarrassment as a pointless distraction. He had to get his shit together for later. No point trying to break out until the night shift came on—fewer people, thinner security. While he waited, he had time to consider his options.
He was happy to cross Tommy Morton off the list without a moment’s hesitation. Next to go was the idea they might release him. No way would the scum who ran this prison kick his ass to the curb as a bad investment—he knew too much.