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meal.
    Knox’s eyes drifted back to her. He observed her from where he lay in the bed, tension coiling inside his gut. News of her would travel fast. Like blood in the water, it would attract more of them.
    A few women trickled in and out of Devil’s Rock over the years. Personnel and staff. There had been that counselor, Dr. Sheppard, who interviewed him and a bunch of inmates, trying to get them to open up and talk about the things they had done that put them behind bars. Sheppard had been over fifty, but other guys requested meetings with her once they heard she had nice legs. Hood rats and skinheads alike, everyone suddenly wanted to pour out their hearts for a chance to check her out and catch a whiff of her perfume.
    Not Knox. Those meetings had been a misery for him. All that talking. Why did he do what he did? Did he regret it? Would he change his actions if he could?
    Christ. He didn’t need that shit. He knew why he had done what he did, and yeah, he regretted it. He’d hurt a lot of ­people. He felt bad about that, but there was no going back, so why talk about it?
    There was only moving forward. Surviving this place. Day after day after day. The end goal was to get himself and his brother the fuck out in one piece. That was the present. The past didn’t amount to shit.
    His gaze traveled back to the nurse. Her features were scrunched up in concentration as she fiddled with a package of swabs.
    He’d had his fair share of ass on the outside. His high school girlfriend had been a cheerleader. The one that did the splits on top of the pyramid. Yeah. Those memories had helped sustain him. When he was hard up, the memory of Holly riding him in her cheerleading skirt served well enough. Or Jasmine. He’d been dating her when he was arrested. She had a penchant for miniskirts. He used to slip his hand beneath . . .
    Shit . He hauled in the train of thought. Now, stuck inside this infirmary, staring at the first female he had seen in weeks, wasn’t the time to daydream about sex.
    Jasmine had visited him twice after he got locked up, even hinting about them getting married. He shut that down fast. He told her to stop coming. That first month had been the hardest. He didn’t need her making him long for what he couldn’t have for another eight to fifteen years. And it wasn’t fair to string her along and expect her to wait for him either.
    Not that the rest of them—­the dregs of humanity that populated Devil’s Rock—­wouldn’t fantasize about Nurse Davis. Once word of her got around, the infirmary was going to be under siege. She was young. Younger than him. Although he felt ancient, older than everyone else in the world even if he was only twenty-­eight. He inhaled sharply and caught a lingering whiff of her. Her hair smelled like pears, for fuck sake.
    Closing his eyes, he actually wished that they had let Chester take him to the hole.
    IT WAS DARK by the time they left the prison. Briar was grateful that Dr. Walker drove them today. She was exhausted in a way she never had been at the end of a workday at the clinic.
    â€œI really appreciate your help today, Briar,” Dr. Walker announced as they drove the hour and a half back toward town, the sleek nose of his car cutting through the inky night. The desert mountains of the badlands rose up on either side of them, darker even than the night sky. “I know it’s not the job you signed on for and certainly not a requirement.”
    She nodded against the headrest. “Well, they’re clearly understaffed. It’s generous of you to offer your time.”
    â€œOne day a week hardly seems enough,” he murmured, frowning.
    She nodded in agreement.
    After several moments of mulling silence, he added, “I know I usually take Fridays off, but I’m thinking I might go back tomorrow and take care of some more of those long-­standing