Chapter 8
Garry Brown was not physically large, although to the young Rory his presence was always looming and ominous. Seeing the man lying in a hospital bed—oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, skin an unhealthy yellow—he seemed small, frail, and…pathetic.
“You got a visitor, Brown,” the guard who’d escorted Rory through the prison hospital said when Garry hadn’t seemed to notice their arrival. To Rory, the guard added, “The drugs he’s on means he sleeps most of the time.”
Rory nodded and moved closer to the bed, although not too close, just in case Garry lashed out or…
Those oh-so-familiar eyes opened behind the mask. The gaze was momentarily unfocused before locking on Rory. There was recognition in those eyes and distrust, too.
“Hi,” Rory said quietly. Getting no response, he add
