Quinn's POV

Who does he think he is?! I was working myself into a fit. My chest heaved rapidly as I tried to relax.

It was too early to judge but I knew I would hate him. I had to.

There should be no friendship between a prisoner and the jailer. It was as simple as that.

I thought about ways to make his life hell through the week. I remembered how I had made Mrs. Harlow's life hell. She had thought she could boss me around and be a competent hound dog for my mom but she had underestimated me.

Mrs. Harlow had lasted a week. She had packed...