“What happened to ‘if I was in any state to do so?’” I ask, recalling some of his words from last night. “You do the crime, then you suffer the punishment.” “Do you have that motto tattooed on your ass?” I ask, tipping two pills into my hand and snapping the lid back on the bottle. We both know I’m talking about Nostraza, but he doesn’t seem affected by my question. He sinks into his seat and then tears into a strip of bacon. “Thinking about my ass, Inmate?”
I am
