As he opens his mouth to reply, I finally manage to pull out a knife I’ve been trying to grab from my back pocket for the past few minutes without being noticed.
I point it right at his face.
“Let me go, or I’ll be the one gouging out your eyes!”
He doesn’t even flinch.
He pays no attention to my threats—or the knife in my hand.
“I was wondering when you’d finally manage to draw your weapon.”
What the hell?!
If he knew I was going for the knife… why let me?
“You knew I had a knife?”
“Yeah. It was pretty obvious,” he says with a smirk. “But if I were you, I’d put it down.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“If I come and take it from you, I might mess up that pretty face of yours.”
“What difference would it make? Weren’t you planning to hand me over to the other inmates? If I’ve got a
