if Coleton had slept with Ava, but she also knew that meant there would never be anything between her and Coleton. The thought made her sick to her stomach and achy all over at the same time. It suddenly killed her in the same way her sister leaving with her husband had killed her. And she didn't know why.
Coleton held up his hands and shook his head no. "I never slept with her, I swear."
Aria clamped down on her tongue with her teeth, but she still couldn't keep herself from spitting out her next question. "But you would've, if the opportunity presented itself, wouldn't you have?"
"No! I swear - well, I ..." Coleton's voice trailed off and Aria read guilt and shame in it. Anger kindled in her heart. She shot to her feet, the gun holster on her waist catching the table and flipping it as if capturing the desire straight out of Aria's soul and manifesting it into physical action. She wasn't sorry.
Aria stomped out of the kitchen, straight to the front door, her hand on the knob as she searched down deep inside herself. There was nothing she wanted more than to take off, to abandon Coleton Savoy to his sister-fucking fate. But good sense and reason came back too quickly. She wouldn't abandon him, but she certainly wouldn't allow herself to consider him a decent human being for one more second.
She dropped her hand from the doorknob with a grunt of disgust and turned around, heading into the bedroom and slamming the door. She looked out the one tiny window into the parking lot beyond and fumed, wondering what shred of decency she had ever seen in Coleton Savoy in the first place.
Chapter 12
Fiore Savoy ducked under what was supposed to be a killing blow and crawled on his hands and knees behind the big washer in the prison laundry. Behind him, sounds of an epic battle raged on. He squeezed his body tighter behind the piece of equipment and closed his eyes, praying for the guards to come in and break it up soon.
He knew they were watching from the doorway, maybe placing bets, maybe waiting until whatever hit they had paid for was over with. He was too old for this shit. He had to get out of this hellhole. He'd been minding his own business - doing his hard, manual labor - women's work really - the kind of crap he thought he was done with when he turned fourteen and made his first kill for the family - but in prison it wasn't good enough to keep your head down and mind your own business. The guards still made you pay. You had to pick sides, and if you didn't pick the right side, you were the next one with a homemade baseball bat upside your head, or a plastic shank in your ribs.
Finally he heard salvation. "Okay, break it up, break it up. You guys are done here. Johnson, take Sampson to the infirmary. Brigs, you take Halston to the hole." The guards had come in to stop the fight.
Savoy backpedaled on his hands and knees and slowly stood up, looking around. Guard Foster's gaze settled on him and Foster laughed slowly, malice oozing from his pores. "Savoy, nice of you to come out of your itty-bitty rabbit hole. Whattsa matter? Did the big baddie scare you? Did he make you have to run and hide? Did he make you go wee-wee in your pants?"
Savoy gritted his teeth and looked at the floor. Foster wouldn't live out the week. He would make sure of it. No one spoke to him like that and lived.
Foster threw back his head and laughed, then left the laundry, leaving Savoy to his own thoughts.
One of his lieutenants, Abbateli, rushed in, his hands up and reaching for Savoy. "Boss, did they get you?"
Savoy pushed his hands away angrily. "I'm fine. No thanks to you. Where the fuck were you?"
"Foster wouldn't let me in. The guards stood in the doorway and egged them on."
"I figured. I got to get out of this stinking hole now . I don't think I can wait till next week."
Abbatelli looked around for witnesses, fear on his face. "Boss, they'll hear you."
Savoy sneered, about to say he didn't give a shit if anyone heard him or not,