The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

91: Crush

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Saint by Hector Barros. All graphics by me.

Sorry this late. I had one of those days where I kept thinking it was Sunday, and by the time I realized my error, I didn't have access to the computer I use to post. I'm going to set a reminder on my phone so hopefully, I won't drop the ball again.

Saint's gladness at seeing the girls walk into the jailhouse was short lived. In fact, it lasted only as long as it took Bender Hungerford to walk through the door behind them. He put his novel on the floor beside his bunk and got up.

"Hey, Farmboy," he called in the direction of the other cell, where he knew Jesse was dozing with his hat over his face. "Wake up. We got company."

Blackie, sitting at the desk, stood up and nodded. "Morning, ladies. Bender."

Fiona nodded back."We brought coffee and biscuits for our crew here." She stepped over to the cell as Blackie waved her past.

"Good morning, Mr. Saint." Lily was pouring a cup of coffee from a carafe and holding it out to him.

Ah. Angels of mercy. He took it gratefully, smiling in spite of himself. "Thanks, Little Miss." The aroma curled into his nose, causing his stomach to growl. He caught a faint whiff of vanilla and stopped to savor the scent. This ain't jailhouse coffee, that's for damn sure. He heard the springs of the other bunk creak as Jesse got to his feet.

"Hey." Jesse roached back his hair and scratched groggily at his scalp, yawning. "Good to see ya." He closed his hand around the coffee Lily passed him through the bars. " Thanks."

"I trust you gents will be coming home on schedule?" Fiona said, buttering a biscuit and passing it to Jesse. "No extended sentence for bad behavior, I trust?"

Jesse glanced at Saint sheepishly. "Yes'm. We've been good boys."

"Good," she said seriously. "I really am gutted about this happening."

"Well, don't be, England," Saint said, taking a biscuit from Lily. "Couldn't be helped. We're fine with it."

"Really?" Fiona looked at him with genuine regard. "You aren't just saying that so I won't feel guilty?"

Saint laughed dismissively. "You ever known me to be that nice?"

"I suppose you do have a point."

He saw Hungerford scrutinizing him from over the Little Miss's shoulder. He glowered back at him over his cup, taking a noisy sip. "What?"

"You feeling alright, mate?"