“Whose whore are you?” “Yours,” she said automatically. “That’s right. No matter how alone you’ve always felt, you’re not any more. ...ven with this camwhore shit.” His hands drifted to her shoulders and gently urged her to turn around. “Now you go over to that laptop and show them that pretty face.” “James?” He slapped her ass playfully. “Don’t worry, baby. More later.” His hands urged her to the swivel chair, directing her to sit down. The chair was like a coarse carpet on the skin of her. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real. How could life have cometo this that he was going to prison for sixteen years?Rough hands grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up, throwing himup the steps and through the door of the prison coach. He hammered downon the boards inside, the blackness closing around him, his face crackingagainst one of the flanking benches with a brief exhalation of pain.He tried to roll over, to get up, but he was stunned. He couldn't quitegather his wits.. More

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