4. Chapter 4

4

N oah didn't look like the typical hardened criminal.

He was short, slim, and his youthful features gave him a childlike look.

Quinn did a double-take the first time they met, convinced Noah wasn't the same man in the file.

Noah smiled knowingly and introduced himself as the baby-faced mass murderer.

They were the same age, a mere twenty-three, but Noah had taken a very different path in life. Noah had poisoned the punch at a house party, killing six young men and women and putting several more in hospital.

Noah picked his painted nails in a repetitive manner, getting more and more irritated as flecks of black covered the table.

"Why not…take it off?" Quinn asked.

Noah glanced up and lifted his eyebrows. "That's what I am doing."

"Oh."

"I'm not allowed nail varnish remover in case I drink it, put it in someone else's drink, or make an explosive from it."

"You can do that?"

"Oh yeah." Noah smiled. "The nail varnish is contraband too."

Quinn frowned. "Every time I've seen you, you've been wearing a different shade."

"I have a talent for getting what I want, and if the prison officers can't find it, where's the proof I have it?"

"Literally on the tips of your fingers."

Noah shrugged. "I woke up like this."

Quinn smirked. "I'm going to ask you about your…school life."

Noah gazed up, and a fondness registered on his features. He sighed with contentment. "Some of the best days of my life."

That…that caught Quinn off guard.

"Why?"

"Most kids hated going to school, but I loved it. It got me away from my mum and dad. I didn't have many friends, but it didn't matter. Mr Hawk believed in me."

"Mr Hawk?"

"My chemistry teacher."

"You've always been interested in chemistry?"

Noah nodded to the ceiling. "He used to let me help set up experiments. I liked the anticipation of seeing chemicals react. The acids and the alkaline. Mr Hawk knew my parents didn't have time for me, and he let me stay after school in the lab."

"It made you feel good?"

"The only bit of happiness I had in my life was those few hours after school. Mr Hawk would talk to me like an equal. His parents never had time for him, and he knew how cruel they could be. He understood."

"Mr Hawk… He didn't"—Quinn shuffled in his seat and kept his tone neutral—"act inappropriately towards you?"

"That's exactly what my dad thought. He didn't understand why someone would just be nice to me without getting something in return."

Quinn dropped his gaze to the table. "I'm sorry. I know there was an allegation, that's all."

"Does it tell you that in the file?"

"It does."

"I started staying late every day. The teachers warned Mr Hawk not to get too close, but he didn't care. We weren't doing anything wrong. If anything, he was keeping me away from harm. My dad found out I'd been staying at the school with him and lost it. He drove to the school and attacked Mr Hawk, put him in hospital. He shouted he was a pedo and told all the other parents he was dangerous."

"What happened after?"

"Mr Hawk moved away. I was no longer allowed to stay after school, and the other kids pointed and laughed at me for being pedo prey. They…they gave me a hard time. School wasn't the sanctuary it once was, and I…I hated my dad for that."

"I'm sorry."

Noah snorted. "You don't need to be sorry. You've done nothing wrong."

"Did you ever try to find Mr Hawk?"

"No, he wouldn't have wanted to see me. I'm the kid he tried to help but who messed up his life. I'm the kid whose dad put him in hospital. I'm the kid who lost him his job."

"None of that was your fault."

"What I did at that party was, though. He won't want to know me now. He probably thinks he had a lucky escape." A slow smile spread across Noah's face, and the baby-face mask morphed into something sinister. "I think, out of context, he would've been impressed."

"Impressed?"

"By my party trick. The punch. It floored people."

Noah snorted at his own joke.

"Did you have friends at school other than Mr Hawk?"

"One or two. I remember they didn't stick around. The other kids thought my family was weird, and they were right. There were no meals around the table or board games at my house, but the kids left me alone mostly…until my dad went after Mr Hawk, that is. That's when the bullying really started."

Noah lifted his hand and showed Quinn his forefinger. "I've got all the nail varnish off."

"Just nine more to go."

"Yeah, and then I can pick a new colour. Spring is almost here, something bright maybe."

"Pink? Green? Gold?"

Noah grimaced at his nails. "Gold's cheap."

"I would've thought it looked expensive."

Noah laughed, then wagged his finger. "Trust me, gold says you're trying too hard. Pink, though. Sparkly pink would be nice. Like blossom."

Quinn smiled, then gestured to the door. "Thank you for talking to me about school and Mr Hawk. I know that can't have been easy."

"Can you do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Can you leave the part out about the allegation against Mr Hawk? That's all it was, an allegation made by my father, but it ruined both his life and mine, and maybe if it hadn't happened, six people would still be alive, and I wouldn't be here."

Quinn glanced down at his papers, then nodded. He ran his pencil over the offending part until the words couldn't be read.

Noah laughed lightly. "You'd do that for me?"

"Innocent until proven guilty. Sounds like Mr Hawk was doing good and got punished for it."

"Everyone I've ever talked to thought I was covering for him. They didn't believe that he did nothing wrong. Never convicted but might as well have been. They even blame him for why I did what I did. Said he messed me up, but that wasn't true. He was the one person who was on my side, that made me feel like I wasn't always destined to be a fuck-up."

"I'm sorry you didn't have anyone else."

"Thank you, Quinn," Noah said, getting to his feet. "Next time you see me, I expect you to compliment my glittery new nails."

"That's if you can chip the paint off in time."

"I sit alone in my cell for twenty-one hours a day; that's plenty of time." Noah smiled sadly, then left the room.

Quinn sighed and slid his notes into a folder.

Nothing he was told justified the crime, but Quinn couldn't help but feel bad for Noah. If he hadn't been emotionally and physically damaged by his parents, he might have turned out differently.

By Friday's session with Zane, Quinn felt drained and had to prop his head up with his hand while he waited. Cleo took pity on him and brought a lukewarm coffee. He sipped at the bitter drink, but the caffeine hit was too weak to perk him up.

The door swung open, marking Zane's arrival, and Quinn sat bolt upright. Alertness came back to him, and he tried not to gawp as Zane strolled into the room. His vest top showed off his broad shoulders and thick arms, and it was tight across his muscular chest.

Quinn's heart thumped extra hard behind his ribs, and he tore his gaze from Zane's physique and looked at his face. He had stubble along his jaw and above his top lip. His hair was fluffed up, and his eyes were big and bright.

Quinn darted looks around the room, then cleared his throat.

"Like what you see?" Zane mumbled.

Quinn shook his head and willed his heart to slow its frantic pace.

"I know you do."

"Inappropriate."

Zane pursed his lips and made a kissing noise. "You know it's true."

"How—how are you, Zane?"

"Now that my ego's had a little boost, I'm feeling pretty good. You?"

Quinn pressed his lips in an awkward smile and reached for his coffee. He drank a mouthful just to do something, but Zane's eyes didn't leave him.

"Coffee breath is hot."

Quinn spluttered, placed the cup on the table, then slapped his chest. "Said no one ever," he managed to croak.

"Well, I imagine your coffee breath is pretty great."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't think that's true."

Zane laughed, then pointed to the folder on the table. "So, school life?"

Quinn lifted an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"Mackie of course, he can't wait to tell us he's seen you first ."

"He enjoys talking to me."

"So does everyone…"

"Tell me about when you were at school."

Zane leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I didn't struggle academically. Some teachers labelled me as gifted."

"Not a mark wrong." Zane lifted his eyebrow, and Quinn continued. "I read your university scores were close to perfect."

"Were you impressed?"

"Yeah, I scraped by with a 2.2."

"Don't belittle yourself. We can't all be geniuses like me."

Quinn snorted. "Did you have friends at school?"

Zane nodded, and his gaze trailed to the ceiling as if he was reminiscing. "I was popular. Captain of the rugby team and good at polo."

"Polo?"

"Riding around, smacking balls. Fun times."

Quinn laughed lightly and shook his head. "You went to a private school."

"Yeah, all boys, all wealthy. I can't complain. The teachers were informative and knew what they were on about. I had friends and lots of activities to keep me entertained."

"Did your dad ever see you play polo?"

Zane nodded. "He loved watching, not so keen on the rugby, though."

"How come?"

"He didn't like watching me smash into men and them smash into me."

"Understandable."

"It was a unique school, lots of different subjects, some truly bizarre."

"Like what?"

Zane smiled coyly and shook his head. "Not going to say."

"Why not?"

"You'll laugh."

"I swear I won't."

Zane smacked his lips together and leaned forward. "Well, one term they were into alternate healing. They made us do meditation, a tea reading course, and a palm-reading one."

"Palm-reading? No way."

"Yes way. Give me your palm, and I'll show you."

Quinn shook his head. "Nice try, but not happening."

"Just hold it up then."

Quinn hesitated, then lifted his hand.

Zane inhaled deeply. "I swear by almighty God—"

Quinn laughed and slapped his palm on the table. "I knew you were lying."

"I'm not. Hold your hand up again. I'll do it properly this time."

"Fine, last chance."

Quinn wriggled his fingers as he held his hand up.

Zane's smile faltered, and he stared intently at the lines of Quinn's palm.

"Your heart's aching for someone…"

Quinn dropped his hand into his lap and scrunched his face. "That's not funny."

Zane held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying what I saw, and what I saw…was heartbreak."

"Let's—" Quinn cleared his throat, stopping it from tightening further. "Let's get back on topic."

"I didn't mean to upse—"

"It's fine," Quinn blurted before he calmed his voice and asked, "How did you find school?"

"I enjoyed it, the other students, the teachers, the classes, but in particular, the library."

"You like to read?"

"I do, and there was this hidden-away corner where no one went, had a sofa, a small table, and that place was…it was special to me."

Quinn frowned. "Why?"

"It was the only place I could be completely alone. The dorm was always busy, loud, and I find value in peace and quiet."

"What kind of books do you read?"

"Sci-fi, fantasy, give me an epic story with sex, action and some interesting lore, and I'm all over it."

"Have you read…" Quinn's voice trailed off. He glanced down at his sheet and the questions he was drifting away from.

"Have I read?" Zane pressed.

"It's…it's not important."

"It is now you've mentioned it. If you don't tell me, I'll go back to my cell and go insane. You can't leave me hanging like that."

Quinn smiled. " The Oslo Chronicles ."

"I've read the first one—"

"There's three out. Why did you stop there?"

Zane glanced around the room. "Well, I ended up here, and let's just say the library is…lacking."

"Oh."

"But I enjoyed the first. What's not to like about deadly dragons and epic battles?"

"It's getting turned into a movie soon." He shook his head. "I don't know why I told you that, let's get back—"

"How was your school life, Quinn?" Zane cocked his head.

"That's hardly relevant."

"I think it is."

Quinn sighed. "I'd say average. I wasn't popular or athletic or academic. I studied really hard to pass my exams by the smallest of margins, and it was enough to get me into university where I had to balance studying and having a good time, which meant I barely slept in three years and only passed by the skin of my teeth."

Zane narrowed his eyes. "There you go again."

"What?"

"Putting yourself down. You shouldn't."

Quinn lowered his gaze back to his sheet. "Erm." He scratched the back of his head. "I've forgotten where we got up to."

"It's still broken."

"Huh?"

"The watch."

Quinn covered it with his hand. "I know."

"But you continue to wear it?"

"I guess it's just…habit by now."

Zane nodded. "Some habits are hard to break, but you have to break them. If you don't break them, they'll end up breaking you."