I don’t answer, as putting words to it makes it real.Sable has been gone for three days.He hums in understanding at my silence, and I look away, craving the loneliness I hated a few minutes before. He puts a cap on the vial, removes the needle, and then starts touching different spots on my neck and face. His touch sends chills down my spine and makes me shiver. I don’t like people touching me anymore. He seems to notice my reaction but says nothing.
Dr. Gallows works in silence, and I try to hide how much this bothers me. He finishes, picks up a notepad, and writes a few things down before shoving everything back in his briefcase. The blood and piss rest in a cooler, and he pats himself down to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
“I think I have everything I need,” he says, and it’s the first real relief I’ve felt in days. I stand to show him the way out, and he thrusts a pill bottle in my hands.
“Take them,” he says. “They should help.” His eyes trail the space, and his judgment is as bad as his touch.
“What are they?” I ask, wondering if the diseases she gave me are advanced enough to see without getting the tests back.
“Something to make you feel better.” His eyes trace the room and finally land on me. I obviously look worse than I thought.
My eyes narrow on him as I consider what he’s saying. The pill bottle in my hand doesn’t have a label, so he must have come prepared with them.
“So you’re a drug dealer now?” I ask, remembering all the times I’ve seen him over the years. He’s never shown up for anything that wasn’t a secret, has he?
He laughs and starts for the door. “That attitude will get you in trouble around here.”
“Will the pills fix my attitude?”
My father always warned me not to dull my senses for any reason. Sure to remind me that people would exploit any weaknesses I had. I’ve never willingly given myself one before, other than Sable, and look how that turned out for me. When you’re a Rook, everyone is watching, waiting for the right moment to pounce. I was five when he said that for the first time, and since then, I have lived in a constant state of awareness, always looking over my shoulder. Part of me hates to admit that he was right by any account, but look what happened when I wasn’t vigilant enough.
“I’m a general doctor and a psychiatrist, and I’m well within my license to provide them to you,” he says, ignoring my question and taking on an air of offense that feels as fake as his dead eyes. My gaze drops to the small bottle in my hands. There’s nothing on the label, definitely not my name. I’m not fully sure I believe that he can prescribe this to me because he still won’t tell me what they are.
“Will they fuck me up?” I ask, deciding I don’t have the energy to beat around the bush.
“Not if you take them as directed.”
His answer makes me realize I’m disappointed. I can’t live inside myself for a second longer, and if I learned anything from that video, it’s that sometimes forgetting is for the best. I spent days chasing the truth lost in the blank spots of my memories, needing to understand. Yet the reality was so disgusting that it only made me crave the blissful darkness.
“Fine,” I agree, popping open the bottle and taking the first one with no water.
Dr. Gallows nods, satisfied. “Let me know when you need more. Your father said he’ll pay for anything you need.”
The puppet string tugs my arm, and it’s too late when I realize I’ve given my father power. He has my blood, piss, and now a few of my secrets too.
“Don’t bother my father. I have the money to pay you myself,” I say.
“Is that so?” he asks with his eyebrow raised.
“Yes. Keep this between us, patient confidentiality or whatever.”
He smiles, and I’m not sure I trust it. I feel a little tug, reminding me that I’ll eventually have to dance for this. “Have a good night, Soren,” he murmurs as he closes the door behind him.
A light sense of calm comes over me as I sit there. True to his word, I don’t feel fucked up taking them as directed. Something dark inside me urges me to see how it would feel if I took another, and it doesn’t take me long to decide it doesn’t matter if I do. This one has a much stronger effect.
My vision blurs a little at the edges, but the room is more colorful without all the misery weighing me down. Warmth spreads into my chest for the first time in a while. All those awful feelings that have kept me captive in my bed and this trashed suite ease until they’re eventually nothing. The internal screaming stops for the very first time, and I indulge in the absolute selfishness of not thinking about my biggest mistakes. Head hanging back, I get comfortable in the middle of the wreckage, as if I’m innocent and I can indeed have a good fucking night.
It doesn’t get good, but I don’t think about Arabella even once, or the fact that Sable is missing, as I float into nothingness.
CHAPTER 3
PARKER
FIVE DAYS WITHOUT SABLE
Pullingup in front of the Rook mansion, I wave at the security camera, knowing the security team will recognize me and let me in. Their driveway splits: one side leads to the horses and shit their mother is so fond of, and the other leads to the main house. From here, I can already see Orion in the distance, waiting in front of the house. I’m glad he’s ready, but the manic energy is making me nervous.
“Let’s go,” I say to Orion as I pull up. I actively remind myself that he is not his brother. The tattoos are proof enough, but still, the sight of his face turns my gut with rage. My eyes flit past him to the house behind him, and I wonder if the asshole is inside. Maybe I can take some of this frustration out on him right now. Orion shakes his head like he understands what I’m thinking. Soren isn’t here. Orion climbs in quickly and shuts the door behind himself.
