“It seems one of my more promising patients has had a relapse. This week is already turning out to be… quite something,” he says, looking down, as if trying to gather his thoughts.
I settle into the chair opposite him as he takes a seat. “It’s hard to see, but I suppose it’s a reminder that recovery is never a straight line. It’s a learning curve for everyone, I guess, and maybe it’s a step closer to her recovery,” I assure him.
When he doesn’t respond, his silence heavy and his eyes distant, I decide to press him over the concerns that have been gnawing at me since yesterday. Clearing my throat, I straighten my posture and speak, keeping my tone firm.
“Dr Moss, I’d like to discuss the security on the lower floor.”
His gaze sharpens as it snaps to mine, his body stiffening slightly as he adjusts in his chair.
“I feel it should be increased—just a little, at least,” I continue. “It’s clearly not safe for patients or staff. I understand the intention behind giving the patients more leniency, especially down here, but I think after yesterday... well, it’s fair to say that anything can happen, no matter what floor we’re on.”
His expression remains unreadable for a beat too long, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Then, finally, he inhales deeply, his chest rising.
“Of course, Ms Tate.”
His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer than necessary, and the heaviness of it sends a strange shiver down my spine.
“I’ll take your insight—and your unfortunate experience—into serious consideration. I’ll have a word with our security team.”
The sharp nod he gives is final, almost too much so, as if he’s trying to close the conversation before it can deepen, but I feel my shoulders relax, knowing someone might not go through what I did last night.
His face softens suddenly, then he leans forward, as if about to deliver some long-awaited good news.
“On a positive note, it’s Ty’s release day.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise, my heart skipping a beat. “Today?” I repeat, trying to keep my true feelings at bay.
He nods, an unmistakable satisfaction brightening his expression. “Yes. His paperwork came through early, and he’ll be leaving within the next few hours.”
I inhale deeply, letting myself settle back into the chair. It all seems so soon.
“You’ve done amazing work with him, Dr Moss. Truly.”
I can’t ignore the need to see Ty one last time, to clear the air, even if only for my own peace of mind. I shift forward in my seat, catching Dr Moss’s attention. “Would it be possible for me to have one last session with him before he goes? Just to touch base and maybe gauge how he’s feeling as he heads out?”
His eyes flicker with interest, and he gives a slight nod. “That’s a fantastic idea, Raven. He’s in his room gathering his things.”
Thanking him, I rise quickly, leaving the office and heading down the long corridor toward Ty’s room. Each step feels heavier as I get closer, the usual confidence I wear slipping away, replaced by a nervousness that’s already starting to twist in my stomach.
I stop a step away from his open door, pushing my glasses further up my nose and I look down at myself, adjusting my outfit.
“Mine.”
His words from last night echo in my mind once again until I draw a deep inhale and edge forward.
I notice him straight away, dressed in tight, ripped black jeans, a fitted hoodie with the hood drawn up, his boots dark and scuffed, a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips as he casually shoves his things into a backpack.
I raise my fist, ready to knock on his door, thinking he hasn’t spotted me yet. But before I even make contact, he speaks, the cigarette still balanced between his lips.
“Get your pretty ass in here, freckles.”
My eyes expand, feeling like my feet have been suddenly cemented to the ground. I stare and he turns his head just enough to glance at me. His dark eyes are partially hidden by his hood and his black hair that falls messily over his forehead, but it doesn’t stop them searing straight through me.
His gaze trails over me before he stands upright, then moves toward me with a casual, controlled pace, each step radiating a calm dominance that somehow feels both dangerous and magnetic, setting my heart pounding hard against my ribs.
In this moment, I can’t help but think he’s the most fascinating man I’ve ever seen—a picture of darkness, rebellion, and domination, cloaked in a raw, unapologetic allure that makes him impossible to ignore. He doesn’t just look like trouble; he’s the very definition of it. But I find myself drawn in anyway, feeling the danger only makes the pull stronger, as if red flags were suddenly my favourite colour.
He halts a few steps away, pulling the cigarette from his lips, eyes narrowing as he takes me in. Before I even register it, he lunges forward, catching my wrist, and pulls me into the room with a swift yank.
