Dahmer's eyes narrowed into two slivers of lethal, cold mercury. The silence that followed Jodein's defiance was so heavy it felt as if the very air in the visitation booth had turned to lead. He leaned forward, his handsome face pressing so close to the glass that his hot, erratic breath fogged the surface in a rhythmic, ghost-like pattern.
"No way?" Dahmer repeated, his voice dropping into a register so low and vibrating that it seemed to resonate from the very concrete floor of Fuckas Prison. "You think this is a negotiation, Jodein? You think you are in a position to decline the only path that leads to you breathing another day's worth of oxygen?"
Jodein remained leaning back, his hands still trembling slightly from the previous Enigma-scorch, but his lips were still pulled into that wretched, arrogant sneer. "It's a ridiculous request, Dahmer. I'm a Lukas. We don't bow to Fords. What's done is done."
