I fall behind her as she continues her rounds, watching as she distributes small pots of medication to each patient. When we reach Ty’s door, I hang back, observing him through the cracked door as he takes his pills, even opening his mouth to show Cathyhe’s swallowed. She moves on, satisfied, and I keep pace, but something makes me look back.
Ty spits the pills into his hand before his dark gaze suddenly snap up to meet mine at the doorway. We lock eyes, and a silent understanding simmers between us. I know I should say something, again, report it even—but instead, I simply let my eyes linger before turning and following the nurse down the hall, leaving Ty to his secret.
Here I go again.
As I catch up to Cathy, I glance back, just once, over my shoulder. Ty stands in his doorway, checking out my ass, also watching and probably waiting to see if I’ll deceive him. I turn away, pulse quickening, unsure why I’m keeping quiet.Fuck.
Chapter Two
Ty
I blink blankly, tracing the last place she stood like I could burn her perfect outline into my mind. Kitten thinks she’s clever, moving in close enough to feel my sharp edges but staying just far enough that I can’t close in on her yet. Which is frustrating the hell out of me. This fucking asylum is holding me back from everything I want to do. But I can’t tell if she’s feeding my fascination deliberately or just clueless enough to walk straight into my darkness.
Every time she covers for me, it feeds the itch—stokes it into a fucking inferno. She doesn't realize she's throwing gasoline on the fire every time she looks the other way. I want more of her. I want her skin under my hands, her screams in my ear, her mind spinning while I fuck her beneath me. Only then will she ever truly understand what a psychopath is. She thinks she’s all careful and professional, but she’s clueless about what she’s inviting. With a mind like this, there is no outsmarting me.
I’ll fucking break her physically and mentally. I’ll enjoy it while doing so.
Raven ruined every plan I had the second she walked through that door. Hell, now she’s my plan. When I get out of here, she’ll be mine. She’s already wrapped up in this game, yet she thinks she's safe with her neat little boundaries and walls. She believesher job is her territory, but she doesn’t see the cage she’s walking into, and I can’t fucking wait to trap my beautiful little kitten.
She’s the opposite of everything I am—soft, light, and too clean to touch me. The way her cheeks flush, the way her voice cracks when she talks to me, trying so hard to stay calm even though I can practically feel her fucking pulse quicken when I look at her. She’s got no idea what I’d do to her, what it would be like if I wasn’t putting on this mask just for the sake of getting out of this dump. Out there, no walls, no one to hear her screams? She’d crumble under me. And shit, the image in my sick mind is the most addictive one I’ve ever had.
She actually said she’d help me. She really believes that. People have tried for years, people more experienced, more prepared to take on an insane bastard like me, but none of them lasted. I don’t change; I get what the fuck I want. End of story. But I play good boy. Do as I’m told. These people are so fucking pathetic and foolish.
And her?
She’s just stupidly baiting me to play the game, walk free, and finish what I set in motion long before she entered my orbit.
Suddenly Billy, the dickhead a couple of doors from opposite mine, pops his head out of his door, looking down the corridor. My eyes narrow at him, wondering what the fuck he’s doing. I’m not the only one playing games in this asylum. He’s doing a pretty good job at manipulating the system too, but he’s not someone who should be released. Ever. Fucking rapist scumbag cunt is lucky I ain’t cut his fucking head off already. I don’t engage with patients, I never have, although they have tried to speak to me. I may be completely unhinged inside my head, but I’m not a fucking idiot.
The top floor in this place is the only time that’s really tested me here. The patients on that floor are literally out of their mind, like zoned out zombies, dribbling and walking around in fucking straightjackets, sleeping in padded cells. Rapes and murders happen a lot up there. Even to staff and that’s exactly why I can’t have my kitten here. She’s an easy target.
Billy suddenly turns his head, looking straight into my eyes. A big smile spreads across his ugly face, but I remain solemn.
“Hey, have you seen that new therapist? Damn,” he says, low and filthy, his gaze sliding down the hallway the way Kitten went like a bloodhound.
I watch as his eyes darken into a predatory gaze, his tongue sneaking out to wet his dry, cracked lips. My jaw sets tight, possessiveness creeping over me like a white-hot rage, almost making me storm over there and twist his fucking neck until it pops, protecting Raven and all the innocents on this earth.
She doesn’t belong anywhere near him. Or me, for that matter. I’m not innocent, not by a long shot. Maybe I’m even a fucking hypocrite for feeling this territorial pull over her. But some monsters don’t even deserve to inhale the same fucking air as the rest of us.
Hold of a little longer, Ty.I tell myself. Don’t lose sight now.
As soon as Billy steps out, heading down the corridor after Raven, my instincts flare, his intensions radiating from him. My teeth bite down as I watch his hulking frame disappear, every muscle in me primed. Without wasting a second, I storm back into my room and move straight to the small bedside table. Dropping to a crouch, I yank open the drawer, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one’s watching.
My fingers push the contents inside aside until I hit the hidden compartment at the back. With the tip of a pen, Icarefully wedge under a thin piece of broken wood, prying it open to reveal the sliver of a razor blade nestled under it. My hand pauses, hovering over it as a question flickers in the back of my mind—am I ready to risk it all for her? But that thought dissolves almost instantly, swallowed up by something darker.
An obsession I can’t seem to control.
My fingers curl around the blade, slipping it into my pocket. With that icy steel tucked against me, I rise, take one last look around, then step back into the hallway, heading in their direction, my pulse steady, my focus sharp and murderous.
…
The hallways start to dim as evening settles in. It’s deserted now—always is at this time. The staff shift change leaves a stillness, the night crew gathering with the day staff in the lounge, sipping tea and probably swapping gossip. Only about ten of us patients roam this floor, and it’s quiet, too quiet, almost like it’s waiting for something deadly to happen.
I move through the shadows, every part of me on edge, slipping past each camera, keeping to the blind spots I know by heart. I’ve memorized it all: where every camera turns, the patterns, the cracks in this place’s security.
As I creep past a janitor’s cupboard that’s very near the staff room, I hear a muffled whimper coming from behind the door. I pause, stopping in my tracks, my instincts screaming at me. I turn my head, side-eying the door, listening intently until I hear more rustling and hushed sounds. I turn calmly and take a few steps toward it, my hand finding the cold, metal handle. I gently push down and slowly open it.
That’s when I see it.
