“Done.”
She tried not to feel guilty as she settled back into her chair. She was a nurse. She shouldn’t suffer such qualms. If she did, she had no business being here. Ignoring her guilt, she concentrated on the computer screen in front of her as Dr. Walker and Josiah conducted examinations of the new patients, telling herself she was working, too. Someone had to organize patient files, after all. They hadn’t even removed inmates from the system who’d died ten years ago.
A half hour passed before the door buzzed and two more guards entered. She blinked at the sight of the inmate between them. Un--flipping--believable.
She rose to her feet and crossed her arms, glaring as Murphy patted down Callaghan. He was bleeding from the mouth and nose. He had just been released from segregation today! Couldn’t he stay out of trouble even for an hour? Disappointment washed through her at the sight of him. He was back again, and judging from the restraints, he was somehow responsible for his current injuries.
His eyes collided with her across the distance and she felt sucked into that ocean, lost in the dark blue depths. She quickly shook off her disappointment. It wasn’t hers to feel. He was a dangerous criminal. Should she have expected any less of him?
“Hey, man!” Ponytail called from the bed. “You fucked those skins up last week!” He gleefully slapped his knee while his friend nodded. “What happened to you today? Looks like we missed a helluva fight!”
Without comment, Callaghan was led to a bed across from the other two inmates, his hands bound before him, the chains of his cuffs clanking slightly.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” one of the guards warned as he attached Callaghan’s restraints to the loops at the sides of the bed.
Callaghan didn’t look particularly proud of the other inmate’s praise. He was stoic as always, staring back at the two inmates without a flicker of expression on his face. Shaking her head, Briar wondered what it would take for him to crack, to let emotion bleed out. Did he even have it in him or was he simply without feeling?
Ponytail glared at the guard, his lips compressed in a flat line as though he was fighting the urge to mouth off. His eyes flashed with something that made her shiver. Clearly he didn’t handle authority very well.
The two additional guards departed, and they were left with Murphy snoozing by the door again. For a moment she had the wild impulse to call them back.
Callaghan looked the ultimate savage sitting there shackled, blood running from his lip. A quick glance confirmed the doctor and Josiah were still occupied. There was no choice. She had to attend to him. Steeling her spine, she marched over and stopped several inches from his bedside. “Back again?”
He hardly spared her a glance. Just stared straight ahead with frightening intensity. A nerve ticked at the corner of his eye. She followed his gaze to the two inmates, wondering if they had something to do with his altercation today and they just didn’t realize it. Barely checked violence radiated from Callaghan as he sat propped on the bed.
She moistened her lips, reluctant to get any closer. Her skin broke out in goose bumps. “What happened to you?” she asked carefully, mindful to keep any judgment from her tone.
“You need . . . to go.”
He uttered the words so quietly she thought she misunderstood him at first. She leaned forward slightly. “I beg your pardon?”
His gaze snapped to her for a moment and then away, focusing again on the other two inmates. “You heard me. You need to get the fuck out of here.” She flinched at the ugly words. “Go. Now, Briar.” She started at the sound of her name on his lips. Of course, he must have heard the doctor or Josiah address her as Briar before . . . but to hear him call her by her name, and in such a rough manner, rattled her.
She pulled her shoulders back and reminded herself that he was the inmate shackled to the bed. She was the free woman here . . . and a professional. He needed to be reminded of that. “How dare you—-”
His gaze shot to her face, and the intensity there struck her like a slap. The blue was bright and fierce, scraping the skin back from her bones. “You need to get out of here before it’s too late.”
She backed away at the threat, uncertain, but full with the knowledge that this man was dangerous. That she was in danger. Restraints or no restraints, he was close to erupting. She crossed the room back to her desk, eyeing the bright red panic button. Something told her to push it—-an instinct that her logic fought against as too extreme.