Long after the “Smiths” had left North Branch, Xander Van Hoyt sat in his cell in   protective custody, staring at the ceiling.
 He was not in seclusion for his own well being. On the contrary. It seemed that inmates, ones who had issues with the unassuming Xander found themselves meeting unfortunate demises, all out of the ever-watchful eyes of the close circuit televisions.
 A white supremacist who tried to recruit the bald, mild-mannered killer had found himself without a tongue.
 A drug dealer who had accused Xander of stealing had inexplicably overdosed on a cocktail of his own stash.
 There had been other odd occurrences, men without history of mental illness abruptly having breakdowns or trying to kill themselves.
 All while in the company of the green-eyed gentleman.
 Although nothing could ever be proven, there was an undeniable consensus among the prisoners and the guards that Xander Van Hoyt was a menace. A dangerous, soulless menace.
 To save face with the state, the warden had finally interceded and put Xander in his own posh cell, equipped with all the creature comforts of the outside world.
 Xander would not have allowed for the switch without it.
 “If you are going to cut me off from companionship without any cause,” he reasoned, checking out his perfectly manicured nails. “You need to supply me with some other stimulation or who knows how my mind might wander.”
 It had been enough of a veiled threat to give Xander everything he wanted.
 Four years he had been in North Branch, charged with only two of the almost dozen murders he was suspected of committing.
 Those were only the ones they knew about.
 And I’m not even in prison for the right deaths, he often thought, shaking his head at the idiocy of the justice system.
 It didn’t matter; he never regretted the fall he had taken for his sister. No one needed to know what Sarah had done.
 And now they never would.
 His forty-six-inch television was playing but the sound was off as Xander contemplated his options.
 Interpol. I find that highly doubtful but that is a matter for another time. Why the sudden interest in Ashtyn Deveaux? She has been around as long as I have. Well, longer now. She outlasted me somehow. I bet she doesn’t have a renegade sister though.
 He knew of the elusive smuggler by reputation, and while he was certain he had caught a glimpse of her on occasion while running about his own business, Xander couldn’t say for certain.
 She’s finally stepped on the wrong toes and they want her dead. But who? The Russians or the Turks?
 He reasoned that the Afghanis might be after her head, but they were less apt to reach out to western sources for such help.
 Xander did not have enough background on Ashtyn to warrant a fair analysis of where she might be.
 In the smuggling business, she was considered a ‘sell sword’; she would work for the highest bidder, sometimes double crossing her own bosses in the middle of deals.
 But her operations were seamless, she had never been arrested and even Xander could not be certain if the stunning platinum blonde with piercing green eyes was the right woman.
 He would be lying if he said he had not fantasized about the stunning woman over the years. Even in that moment, he found himself growing hard as he envisioned her lithe, stacked body.
 I’ll have my work cut out for me after four years. I’ll have to find new contacts, rekindle old alliances.
 Xander sat up suddenly.
 But there was always one tried and true source, someone whom he could depend on.
 I don’t have to kill her, he reasoned. I can find her and give her to the Smiths, the lying Interpol couple who just happen to know all about Ashtyn Deveaux even though the darkest underground channels barely know her name.
 He would have to read the terms of his deal closely.
 Obviously, whomever they were, they had some connections to the agencies who could see him released but Xander was in no rush to leave.
 He lived a life of relative comfort in the prison after all and he was not running amok killing on contract.
 His main concern was Sarah and that she be left alone, but it seemed that he was no closer to achieving the peace of mind he had hoped for at the end of the double murder trial.
 If I am out, I can protect her better, he reasoned. I can ensure that everything which needs to be eliminated is, and that she is secured somewhere that no one will find her.
 The problem was, Xander was not sure how much of the “Smith’s” promises he believed.
 Catriona was far too afraid for me to get a proper reading, he thought. Xander had not even attempted to probe the other one, but he had caught the woman’s near slip when she almost called her partner by his first name.
 I’ll learn everything I need to learn before I agree to anything, he decided. If they want Ashtyn badly enough, they will abide by my terms.
 “Hey, Gary?” he called out to the guard at the end of the corridor. “You there?”
 “Yeah, boss?” Gary replied, bounding toward the convicted murderer.
 Of all the officers, Gary was Xander’s least favorite.
 He was far too simple-minded to hold a position of being a guard at this maximum-security prison. He was a bear of a man, eager to please, and while the others had a healthy fear of the but dangerous inmate, Gary wanted to make friends.
 “I need you to make a call for me.”
 Gary peered at him with guileless brown eyes.
 “Sure,” he agreed. “Who?”
 Xander stifled a sigh. Any of the other guards would have known whom he was speaking of, but of course Gary needed to have things spelled out for him.
 “Is Jonas working today?” Xander asked, trying to keep his infamous temper in check. It wasn’t Gary’s fault that he had the mental capacity of a potato, after all. It was the Department of Corrections’. They had hired the Neanderthal.
 Gary nodded like the big oaf he was and almost tripped over his own feet going to find his co-worker.
 “I’ll get him for you,” Gary said agreeably.
 “Just tell him I need him to make a call for me,” he sighed, knowing that there was only a fifty-fifty chance Gary would succeed in delivering the message properly.
 To his surprise, half an hour later, Jonas showed up at his cell.
 “You have a visitor,” the Vietnamese officer informed him. “And she’s hotter than hell.”
 Xander simply nodded in acknowledgment.
 “Perfect,” he said, allowing the officer to lead him from the cage in handcuffs and chains.
 “Try not to kill her,” Jonas remarked dryly as they made their way into the compound and toward the portable units near the exercise yard.
 As always, when Xander showed his face outside the protective wing, a hush of awe seemed to fall over the courtyard.
 The skinheads scowled at him while the other gangs turned their eyes downward in a sign of respect. Xander ignored them all with the same dismissive grace.
 They were irrelevant to him, after all. Rumors had started about him, and Xander did nothing to deny them. There was no doubt that he could kill them without even touching them, but his reputation was terrifying enough that even if they were to chance upon one another, the other inmates would give him a wide berth.
 Everyone knows what I’m capable of. They just don’t understand how, he thought smugly.
 As they stopped at the first portable, Jonas undid his handcuffs and cast him a sly gaze.
 “I don’t know how you do this every couple of days,” he commented, opening the door to allow him in. “I can’t even jerk off once a week.”
 Xander stepped inside and smiled at the guard over his shoulder.
 He pointed at the sexy blonde inside.
 “Would you have a problem doing this?” he asked. “She’s a little bit more enticing that your right hand.”
   Jonas chuckled.
 “I wouldn’t have a problem, but my wife sure would,” he replied, shutting the con and the prostitute inside.
 “Hello Sheila,” Xander said pleasantly, pulling off his tank top to reveal his entire upper body.
 Despite being solitary most of the time, Xander’s body was a well-honed machine, with hard layers of muscle in every inch of his form.
 An intricate tattoo told a conflicted and confusing story, one which only three others knew.
 “Hello, handsome,” Sheila purred. “I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”
 Xander laughed, removing the wire rimmed glasses from the bridge of his nose and stalking the few steps toward her.
 Gently, but with a dark look in his eyes, he leaned down and kissed her lips softly and she smiled up at him, returning his lazy embrace.
 “I wish I could see you more often,” she breathed, as Xander took her hand and led her to the squeaky cot, his fingers trailing over her bare arms.
 “Maybe when I get out,” he teased, mouth caressing her cheek and finding her earlobe which he sucked on.
 He felt her skin explode into a mass of gooseflesh and in a fluid motion, he pushed off her overcoat, looking approvingly at the lingerie she wore beneath.
 “You wore my favorite set,” he noted. “You do pay attention.”
 Abruptly, she pushed him back, Xander landing on his back as he peered up at her with interested eyes.
 “Feisty today,” he commented, opening his arms to take her on top of him.
 “You bring out the wild in me,” she laughed.
 She buried her full but small breasts in his face and Xander inhaled the scent of vanilla and jasmine as he licked the smooth skin of her tits.
 One hand expertly unhooked her bra, releasing her nipples from the pink lace and his teeth formed around the taut skin to nip and suck.
 Sheila’s hips began to grind against the thin material of his pants and Xander could feel her wetness through the bottoms of her panties.
 He allowed her to push his upper body down on the mattress, an unusual concession for him. Sheila wasn’t usually this forceful so he decided to give her a taste of being on top for once as her tongue flicked down his chin and across his chest.
 Xander’s member grew harder, remembering how hot and eager her mouth could be. She was precisely what he needed that afternoon and when she slipped off his pants to take him down her throat, he groaned loudly.
 “Christ!” he muttered, his hips jutting upward. Sheila’s hands encircled his buttocks, easing him further into her throat and Xander was again left to marvel at how she could breathe.
 With long strokes, she lapped, pausing to massage his sack before starting back up his shaft and sucking him deeply.
 Xander couldn’t hold back much longer, he lunged forward, seizing her by the upper arms and pulling her back into the straddling position, his fingers moving to grip her rigid nipples firmly.
 He pulled at them teasingly, arching himself upward as the tension in his crotch grew. Xander wanted to sink as deeply into her as possible right fucking now, but she seemed to be taking forever with the condom.
 He closed his eyes then and shifted his mind, his own body pausing as his mind entered hers.
 Come on, you damned condom! Sheila screamed internally. I need his cock inside me!
 Xander floated out, hearing her gasp as she stared at him blankly for a long moment.
 “How is that condom coming?” he asked innocently, licking his lips as he bounced her lightly.
 In seconds, the barrier was on and she mounted him, elevating herself hard and fast.
 He slipped dangerously in and out of her, his balls growing tight and ready but he held off, wanting to feel her scream.
 He began to pound into her with long, rhythmic strokes, his hand cupping the back of her neck.
 Sheila yelped, her body growing sweaty and shaky as she seemed immobilized beneath him.
 “Oh fuck, yes!” she cried, her words only encouraging him to surge into her with more force.
 Xander closed his eyes, feeling a wave of heat course through his groin.
 He bit on his lower lip, knowing he wouldn’t hold out much longer.
 Leaning forward, he grasped her waist, lifting her higher on his pole and slamming her back down again. She screamed then, and he felt the spurt of her heat as she came hard on his terse rod.
 He nibbled on her hard nipples, extending the sensations for her, as the clenching of her core pushed him over the edge. He shuddered hard, biting viciously on her nipple once more as he squeezed her buttocks in his hands.
 Her climax continued, her juices sliding over his inner thighs as she quivered above him.
   Very slowly, Sheila sat back, studying him with intense green eyes as she rolled her hips slowly in methodical circles.
 “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked suspiciously, reaching up to tug on a slip of her blonde hair.
 “I like you,” she murmured. “You are not like the other men at all.”
 “There are other men?” Xander demanded in faux shock and she laughed, pushing him gently.
 “You know what I mean. You are kind and gentle, even when you are fucking me like a stallion.”
 She continued to stare at him and for the first time since Xander could remember, he felt slightly uncomfortable by her gaze.
 “Did you really murder your parents?”
 The smile faded from Xander’s lips and he pushed her off.
 The question had caught him completely off guard.
 “Well you certainly know how to kill the mood,” he snapped, and Sheila was instantly contrite.
 “I’m sorry, Xander! I don’t know why I asked that! I just feel like you and I are getting to be more than, you know, client/hooker relationship. I want to get to know you. Is that so wrong?”
 Xander peered into her yearning face.
 He hardened himself as he reached for his clothes.
 “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not wrong.”
 Sheila exhaled and moved to hug him, but he shoved her away, shocking her by the cruelty of the gesture.
 “Xander – “
 “You’re wrong. You’re just a whore I pay to come for conjugals. I could see you every day if I wanted but I don’t because there are others I like much better. And now that you’ve ruined whatever fun I could have had with you, we’re done here.”
 He didn’t allow her to reply, pushing open the portable door and stepping out into the afternoon sunlight, waiting for Jonas to cuff him again.
 “Don’t call her again,” he instructed the guard.
 Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sheila staring after him, her face etched with hurt.
 It’s a damned shame, he thought, gritting his teeth. I really did like her.
 But feelings led to questions like that and questions led to Sarah.
 It was the inevitable circle, one which couldn’t be avoided.
 And Sarah’s safety was paramount to him.
 That was why he had decided he was going to kill Ashtyn Deveaux.