He could not bear seeing her hurt. Instinctively he stepped closer, offering solace with only the nearness of his body. He would have pulled her into his arms, held her, shielded her from the world, but he had long since learnt she would not allow it. So he gave her the little comfort he could. There were other signs of her demons, other indications her nightmares were haunting her again: she was too thin, shadows courted her eyes and her hands found constant frantic purchase on tablecloth and seams. It was expected, in the end, this was why he had come to her again. The reports his men had given him had indicated as much - and possibly even more. Something was stalking her again. The only question now was if it was in her mind or in life. No matter, if he could, if she would allow him, he would slay her demons; if not then he would give her the respite she needed before running again. It was a well practiced dance they were dancing, though he grew tired of it, of the pain, the fear. ’ Jamal directed Brian to drape his upper body across the end of an old army cot, put in the cell to handle the overcrowding. ‘Put your arms up on the cot as far up as you can. Grab the sides and don’t let go or we’ll whip your ass good. Spread your legs as wide as possible.’ Ordered Jamal. Reaching over to a beat up table next to the sink, Jamal got a bar of hand soap, rubbed up a lather and started smearing it on Brian’s butt crack. Every once in a while he would stick a soapy finger in Brian’s ass to lubricate him inside and out. Jamal repeated this several times until Brian’s ass was slick. ‘Henry, since you’re already done for now, straddle the cot and hold his wrists so he stays put.’ With his already lubricated fingers, Jamal pushed in his index finger and then his middle finger. There was a lot of resistance with the middle finger and it went in slowly but it was obvious to Jamal it wasn’t the first time. ‘You’re tight boy but this is not the first time you’ve had.
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