The door to the interrogation room was pulled open by a brown skinned hand, tugging roughly at it. He had stuck his head and upper body out first, his lower body subsequently following.
A pair of brown eyes barely held a solid glare on the detective. Bardrick took notice of his petty attempt of staring him down and found it amusingly foolish.
"How's prison life holding up?." The detective asked, pulling himself a chair which he didn't bother to sit on.
Colby looked straight at him for two seconds, then averted his eyes to the bruises on his wrists. Picking a fight with one of his inmates over bathroom privileges sucked hard. At least on his end of the straw.
"Aren't you going to even ask about your buddies at the shop?. The ones who threw all the blame on you?." He knew he had struck a nerve, once his vision landed on Colby's clenched fist.
