He’s pushing again, trying to blur the lines between us. The worst part is that the connection I felt while texting him returns with full force. And it’s more than a mere ember. It’s scalding.
He adjusts in his chair. “Once you embrace your ghosts, that’swhen real freedom begins. No amount of work, alcohol, or meaningless sex will help you. You can’t outrun them.”
“I—”
“You know, even ice can burn with prolonged exposure. Does your currentdistractionenjoy the pain you offer? Or has he finally gotten tired of it?”
“You know the rules,” I snap. “No personal information about me.”
Ghost’s smile widens and his eyes gleam with that infuriating calm, completely unbothered by my anger. “Oh, Dr. Andrews, I’m not breaking any rules. I’m simply asking questions. You’re not the only one who wants answers.”
Fury bubbles up inside me, warring with the cold edge of fear. How does he know about Mason? Not that I give a shit about him, but our relationship was never public. Yet here Ghost is, dropping it into conversation like it’s common knowledge.
Like he’s been watching me.
It’s not a stretch to assume that a man who can send me texts from prison would also know the details about my love life.
“For example,” Ghost continues, his relaxed tone at odds with the predatory glint in his eyes, “I want to know when was the last time you felt anything with him, beyond routine? Or what you think he’d say if he saw the real you? The Geneva thatIsee.”
The truth of his words cuts deep, past the lies. Past the bullshit. I hate that Ghost is right. I hate that every time I’m with Mason, I’m left with a gnawing emptiness, a sense of going through the motions, but never trulyfeelinganything. It’s predictable and safe. But it’s not what I need. It’s not what Iwant.
And somehow Ghost knows it.
I clench my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. “You don’t get to talk about my life like you understand it.”
“But I do understand it, Dr. Andrews. That’s what terrifies you, isn’t it?”
Ghost’s maddening smirk only deepens, as if he’s savoring every flicker of emotion I’m trying so hard to suppress. For the first time, I’m irritated by the glass between us because I want to smack the shit out of him, to remove that knowing look off his face.
I get to my feet. Even as I’m staring down at him from this position of superiority, Ghost maintains the air of power surrounding him. Once again, he’s the victor of our exchange. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to take him down a notch.
“Let me tell you what Isee.” I lean forward and narrow my gaze. “I see a man who’s trapped. Trapped in his own twisted mind, trapped behind these walls. You think you can manipulate me like I’m a rat in a lab. But you’re the one who’s nothing more than a prisoner, Ghost. A prisoner of your own delusions.”
His smile wavers, a flash of something behind his eyes. At last, I’ve finally gotten to him. It’s a small win, but a win nonetheless. He recovers quickly, his lips curling, almost taunting.
“Is that what you think, Dr. Andrews? ThatI’mthe one trapped?” His voice is maddeningly calm, but there’s an edge to it now, something sinister. “I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.”
“Don’t waste your time,” I say, keeping my gaze fixed on his. “Don’t contact me anymore—not through legitimate means, and definitely not through yourothermethods.”
I turn and quickly make my way toward the door. I need to get out, to breathe, to put as much distance between us as I can. Butjust as I reach for the door handle, his voice slithers through the air, soft and chilling.
“Oh, Dr. Andrews, you should know by now that nothing I do is a waste of time. It just takes others longer to discover the results… or consequences.”
CHAPTER 12
GHOST
I’ve pissed off Geneva.
Good.
Even though she left the prison hours ago, she never left me. This woman has carved out a place in my mind and taken up residence. To remove her… I might actually go insane.
Well, more than I already am.
I laugh at this until the sound turns manic, until the hilarity of my thoughts has my eyes stinging as I roll around on my mattress. Given all the shit I’ve done, the number of people I’ve killed, how can I become more demented than I already am?
A guard walks up to my cell and slams his cudgel against the bars. “Shut up, Ghost.”
