I came to a halt outside the bars, grasping them and staring into the cell. Jared's dark blue t-shirt was torn at the neck, a smudge of dirt on one cheek as he finally looked up and met my eyes. I realized then as I took in the split skin on his right hand over his knuckles and the ashamed expression on his face I didn't have to give him a hard time over fighting.
He had been doing the job for me all along.
"Hey," I said, keeping it light despite my previous desire to smack him for being an idiot. "How was your night?"
He snorted softly, expression showing faint amusement before he settled back into self-judgment. A quick glance to his left at the scowling Philip told me he wasn't over his anger with his opponent however.
"I've had worse," he said. Sighed. "And better."