Inside

Telling herself that Rick would soon go back to Sacramento, which would make it easier to ignore everything he’d just said, she went inside to change and make dinner. Never would she have guessed that she’d have both Virgil and Rick Wallace over for a meal, let alone staying the night.

But without knowing what was causing the unrest in gen pop, she wanted to be as cautious about Virgil’s safety as possible.

“You told him, didn’t you.”

Peyton jerked around to find Virgil standing in the kitchen doorway. She’d been so focused on preparing the fish she’d taken from the freezer she hadn’t heard him come in. She hadn’t even heard Rick’s car, but in this part of the house, she didn’t always know when a vehicle pulled up. “Is he here?” she whispered, angling her head to look past him.

“No. He went to get my things from the motel.”

Pretending not to notice the spark she felt at his proximity, Peyton slipped past him and went into the living room so she could check a side window, just to be sure. Her driveway was empty.

Virgil didn’t leave his post in the kitchen doorway, but he turned to face her. “Well?”

“I did,” she admitted.

Muttering a curse, he took his hand from his pocket long enough to scrub his face. “What were you thinking?”

“I was putting a stop to our…affair or whatever you want to call it.”

“By trying to get me killed?”

His words scraped her nerves like sandpaper. “No. Of course not.”

“You’ve given him the perfect excuse to make my life miserable. You know that, right? Don’t you understand how much he wants you? How much it’ll bother him to think I got there first?”

She did now. Rick had just explained it to her. But she didn’t want to dwell on that uncomfortable conversation. It distressed her that she had to deal with unwanted interest from one man while trying to control her desire for another. “He’s not like that. Maybe he’s not particularly deep. Or much of a humanitarian. But…he wouldn’t purposely put you in harm’s way.”

When Virgil chuckled without mirth, she knew he had to be thinking that Pelican Bay was practically a synonym for being “in harm’s way.”

“Look, if you want to know the truth, I regret telling him, okay?” she said. “I should’ve waited, thought it out. Maybe then I would’ve realized the pitfalls of going in that direction. But it was late last night when I got back from your motel room and…and I wasn’t feeling too great about what we did. I would’ve called the warden instead, but I knew he wouldn’t be up. I went to Rick because he was available, and I wanted to be honest.”

He lowered his voice. “You could’ve called me if you needed to talk.”

“You caused the problem in the first place, remember?”

She saw a pained expression on his face. He thought she was blaming him for more than she really was. “I didn’t mean to be rough with you. I feel…bad about that.”

“I got over it,” she said, but that was an understatement. If she was being completely honest, she would’ve said she enjoyed it.

“Apparently not as well as I’d hoped.”

“I would’ve confessed anyway,” she told him. “It’s the way I live my life.”

He shoved away from the wall but didn’t approach her. He circled the coffee table going toward the living room instead and checked the drive himself. “What, exactly, did you say to him?”

“I was vague but truthful. I said we’d had an inappropriate relationship.”

“How did he react?”

“He wasn’t pleased.”

He chuckled again but didn’t comment.

“When I said I was going to tell the warden, too, he told me not to.”

This seemed to surprise him. “Why?”

“He was afraid it would interfere with our little…operation.”

“Taking down the Hells Fury means a lot to him.”

“He wants the glory of doing what no one else has been able to do. If this works out, he’ll be a hero, and being a hero can really boost a man’s career.” Remembering the fish, she headed back to the kitchen. “What did he say to you about…us?”

“Nothing.”

She paused at the entrance. “Then how did you know?”

“I could tell by the way he was treating me.”

“Which was…?”

“Like a rival.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to create a jealous monster. I was feeling guilty for not being more responsible and…removing temptation seemed like the right thing to do.”

She went into the kitchen, but he followed her. “There’s a law that says you can’t sleep with an informant?” he asked.

“Maybe not a law, but definitely a rule. If my behavior threatens everything the CDCR has put together in order to bring down the Hells Fury, I’m wrong for doing it. That could be considered malfeasance of office and might get me fired.” And yet the possibility hadn’t stopped her. That was why she’d resorted to such desperate measures. But telling on herself, however well-intentioned, had only made matters more tenuous and frightening—and done nothing to diminish the desire she’d hoped to eliminate.

“You knew you could be fired, but you told him, anyway?”

What astonished her was that she’d risked her job in the first place. Didn’t he get that? Probably not. Why would he? He didn’t understand how important her career was to her, how much she wanted to change the system because of her father. “I won’t pretend to be one thing while being another. I hate hypocrites. I felt if I confessed it would put an end to the conflict I was feeling.”

“How?”

“By raising the stakes so I wouldn’t dare take that risk again, I guess.”

“Did it solve the problem?” he challenged, obviously not pleased.

No. The same raw magnetism that had drawn her to him before was still at work. But no way would she make the mess she’d created any worse. Not after last night. The few minutes she’d spent in Virgil’s motel room had shown her just how much power she was willing to give him. And that wasn’t in keeping with who she was, or at least who she wanted to be. It was frightening to lose control of any relationship, but especially one with someone like Virgil. “Yes.”

He came into the kitchen. “Look at me when you say that.”

She forced her eyes to meet his. “Yes,” she said again, but when she glanced away she knew her body language called her a liar.

Taking her by the shoulders, he gently turned her toward him and parted the opening of her blouse.

Preparing to slip out of his grasp if he tried to unfasten her buttons or touch her intimately, she tensed, but soon realized that wasn’t his intent. He was looking for his medallion. He wanted to know if she was still wearing it.

When he saw that she wasn’t, his gaze dropped to the floor and he stepped back. “Can you ever forgive me for last night?” he asked.

His remorse troubled her. She knew he’d been dealing with a lot and still was. “Don’t be sweet,” she whispered. She didn’t need anything to undermine her sagging resistance.

That wasn’t a yes, but it was the best she could do. Assuming she was rejecting his apology since she hadn’t really accepted it, he started to walk away, but she caught his arm. Removing his medallion had been a symbolic gesture meant to signify that she was also removing him from the areas of her life where he didn’t belong. But now she regretted doing it as much as she regretted telling Rick about them, and she couldn’t even say why.

“We’ll get through this somehow,” she promised.

“Sure, piece of cake,” he responded, but she could tell his mood was nowhere near as light as his tone. She also knew it was far easier for her to be optimistic; over the next weeks or months he’d be coping with much more than she would.