All Chained Up by Sophie Jordan Page A

mingled with his. It would be so easy to lean forward and take her mouth, taste her. Christ . He was sick. As if she wanted anything to do with scum like him.
    â€œHow’s your head?” she queried.
    â€œFine.”
    â€œAny dizziness?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHeadache?”
    â€œA little. I’ve had worse.”
    She made a noncommittal sound and returned to type some more into the laptop.
    â€œYou can’t be a nurse anywhere else?” He jerked his head toward the doctor. “He blackmailing you into doing this or something?”
    That nose of hers went up a notch. “Not everyone is a criminal.”
    The kitten had claws. He stared at her for a moment, studying her stoic face with the faintly pink cheeks. She blinked and looked down at her laptop again, clearly flustered.
    â€œWhy are you so nervous?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t hang out with a lot of felons. I don’t know how to act.”
    She was cute. Annoying, but cute. And not because she was female and there was a decided shortage of those in his life. She was cute, he decided, because she was cute. Feisty. He scanned her in her purple scrubs. Hard to tell for certain, but there was a banging body under there.
    The door buzzed open. Chester and another bull entered the room.
    He exchanged words with the guard near the door, his cagey, squinty eyes looking beyond the old man to survey the room. His gaze landed on the nurse and he actually licked his lips. Something ugly curled up inside Knox knowing that assholes like him could stare at women like her all they wanted. He could lick his lips and hit on her and be his general asshole self and it was okay. The world was okay with that. And that just summed up what a screwed-­up planet they lived in.
    As if sensing his stare, the guard looked his way. Chester’s lips twisted into its usual sadistic shape. Knox released a breath, knowing his time in the HSU was up.
    Suddenly the nurse was at his side. Her brown eyes snapped with fire as she stood between him and the bed, facing the advancing bulls like some kind of gatekeeper.
    Chester did not look troubled. He swaggered forward, holding out both hands as though calming some fractious colt. “Now, now . . . it’s been twenty-­four hours. That’s all you said you needed.”
    Her gaze shot to the clock on the wall. “Twenty-­two hours, actually. It wouldn’t hurt to have him under observation longer . . .” She turned in the direction of the doctor across the room, as though seeking aid from the man who was busy examining some old inmate’s gnarly foot.
    â€œC’mon. This ain’t no place for bleeding hearts.” Chester stepped closer and touched her shoulder. A bitter taste coated Knox’s mouth at the sight of those bloated sausage fingers covering her shoulder, flexing slightly, getting the feel for her. “Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s sick.”
    Knox tensed at the implication that he was faking illness to stay out of the hole. After eight years he knew how to take a stint in the hole.
    Enough of this. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he announced, “I’m fine. Ready to go.”
    Chester dropped his hand from her shoulder. “See there.” The bastard smiled at her. “Nothing to worry about. Callaghan knows his place. Right, boy?”
    Knox grunted as he reached for his shirt draped over the end of the bed. He’d kept it off ever since she bandaged his ribs.
    He pushed both arms into the sleeves and winced as he pulled it over his head, the action pulling on his tender ribs.
    Suddenly Briar’s hands were there, grasping the hem of his shirt to help pull it down. The back of her fingers grazed him and his stomach muscles quivered. All of him quivered. Shit .
    He stepped back, severing the contact. Yesterday had been bad enough with her hands all over him. Even as impersonal as her touch