21. Psycho

Itracked empty corridors, sticking to the shaded alcoves supplied by the overcast night, my pulse beating to the drum of my ever-growing anger.

Even with my large frame, my movements were smooth and fluid. With the elixir on board, I was virtually undetectable. Micah had left a vial for emergencies. To me, this was the definition of an emergency—to impose reasonable justice on those who forgot their place.

I slipped through the crack of the door to hide in the corner of the room, draped in darkness. The only sound was the click of the lock bolting shut.

The decrepit cesspit of an inmate jerked upright in bed, shank clasped tightly in his hand, the blunt blade shaking ever so slightly.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

"Who the fuck is there? Who would dare come into my room?"

My shoulders rolled back and muscles tensed as I stretched to my full height, neck cracking from left to right.

"Now, Walter, is that any way to welcome a guest?"

Walter's eyes widened on my hidden figure. Impressively, his tone remained hard and unrelenting. "Psycho. What the fuck, man? I was sleeping."

I stalked forward as my blood heated at the inevitable hunt. I was a predator, my eyes well and truly accustomed to the immediacy of my prey, his jugular pulsating to the supple beat of my own heart's desires.

"When I arrived here, I had one rule. One request. Do you remember what that was?"

Walter stood, his instincts identifying the threat as his slow, dim-witted mind tried to catch up. "I…I haven't done anything. I've kept away, haven't interfered in any of your shit." This dumb fucking asshole actually shrugged. "We're cool."

My lips spread into a maniacal grin as I stared down into the eyes of this peasant. Before he could take another breath, I twisted his wrist with a hard jolt, a resounding snap echoing with the impact. His shank bounced to the floor as his hand lay limp at an odd angle.

Walter's eyes burned with hatred as a loud grunt escaped his throat. I had to give him credit, he earned points for not squealing like a pig as his bones shattered. Even a few more, for having an ounce of practicality and not outright attacking me on instinct alone.

My fingers raised to circle his throat. "I had one rule. What did I say?" He shook his head (well, as much as he could with my hand cutting off his airway). "I told you never to touch what was mine." Then I shoved him back on the bed.

Walter choked while scurrying back against the headboard, as far away from me as possible.

"I didn't take shit. It wasn't me. You've got the wrong guy." I bent and twirled his shank between my fingers, admiring the handiwork and ingenuity. "I swear, Psycho. I haven't touched anything."

"Ah, but that's a lie, isn't it? You touched her. And she's mine."

Realisation sparked in his features, his pale face now sweating profusely.

I knew what he saw when he looked into my dead, black eyes. I gave him a glimpse into my tarnished soul, an open gateway to the beast inside, manically laughing in the background of his misery.

"You roamed your unworthy hands over her body, placed your diseased tongue over her perfect, unblemished skin. You touched what is mine!"

Walter sobbed. "Fuck! I didn't know. I'm telling you, Psycho, I didn't know she was yours." I ripped out his legs and dragged him over the edge of the bed, his body thumping hard against the ground.

Solid and unmoving, I stood over his whimpering form. The executioner had come to collect.

I live for this shit, die for this shit, fucking get hard for this shit.

"You will repent by saying her name. What is her name?"

"Dr Chaser."

"That's not it."

I preened at the knowledge that I was one of the select few who knew my girl's name—her real identity. I swear that lit some type of bliss in my stone-concrete organ of a heart.

"I don't know…I-I don't fucking know her name."

Latching onto his greasy hair, I yanked his head back for the disrespect, his neck straining as my gaze bled into his.

"That's right. And you'll never know," I said, before slamming his face into the ground.

I veered around his trembling body as liquid pooled over the floor.

Did this motherfucker piss himself?

Sidestepping the puddle of urine, I lifted his uninjured hand. "You defied my request, made a mistake. And you will pay for that mistake. Once I'm done, consider justice paid in full. Let's see if you survive it." Bending over, I got to work.

MICAH

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THERE'S NO FOOTAGE?!" Mayor Oakview screamed through the monitor, the speakers crackling from the onslaught.

We were jammed into Burner's office, forced into an emergency debrief meeting regarding the astronomical failure that was the fundraiser ball.

Oakview Asylum was in lockdown, two staff members murdered and no suspect in sight. Since their gruesome deaths, most hadn't returned, leaving Burner and I to clean up the mess.

"I don't know, sir. The whole server's been wiped," Burner said. "The police can't find anything." He looked like shit, his appearance unkempt, an all-around fucking disaster.

"It was one of those lunatics! I don't care which, pick one and be done!" Mayor Oakview shouted, his carotid thumping down the side of his neck. He should have been more careful. He could have given himself a cardiac arrest, with all that stress.

I forcibly pushed my smile back, adopting the ideal mourning image.

"And now we have to deal with this inmate in the Intensive Care Unit. How the fuck are you running this place, Burner?"

Burner's knee bounced beneath his desk. "We assume it's the same person. They used Fern's swipe card to access Walter's room."

My attention perked at the name. "What happened to Walter?"

Burner softened his tone. "He was attacked overnight. His hands were mutilated beyond repair. Plus, he'd lost a lot of blood by the time he was found. His tongue was cut out."

"Prognosis?"

"It'll be a miracle if he makes it out alive."

Mayor Oakview grunted, unfazed. "Good. He can be our suspect." Said and spoken like a true politician.

My lips involuntarily pursed and Mayor Oakview caught the expression, as if only just realising I was in the room.

"I apologise for the callousness, Dr Chaser. If you're struggling, please go home and rest." His voice was calm and soothing.

"I'd prefer to continue as normal, please." They both agreed, and I excused myself from the stifling environment.

I had to see August, and I had to see him now.

What is that imbecile thinking?

Yes,I was frustrated, however my body also hummed with warmth as my lips tipped upwards of their own accord.

Get a fucking grip, woman.

I burst through my office door, slammed it shut and didn't give him a chance to blink before I spat.

"What the fuck have you done?"

August exhaled a long puff of smoke before turning his head and tracing his deadly eyes up to mine. My breath caught at his sexy, sideways smirk.

I am so screwed.

"Hey, babe. I missed you," he purred. His voice slithered over me like a creeping fog, suffocating me with his honesty. That's what got me the most: when he spoke, when he said these things to me, he was speaking the utmost truth. I could feel it. He did indeed miss me.

I stood there staring at his stupid beautiful face, hardly breathing, and crossed my arms to prevent them from reaching for him.

He clocked my stance and raised an eyebrow, accepting my challenge.

"No kiss hello then?"

"Don't fuck with me, Psycho."

"Psycho? Hmm, I must be in trouble."

"Did you maim Walter?"

"Well, not just me," he shrugged.

My fingers twitched at his clipped answer. "Who else was with you?"

"You gave me the elixir. So you are, in fact, my accomplice," he said, before taking another drag of his never-ending cigarette.

I plucked the offending stick from his mouth and stabbed it in the ashtray, my eyes lapsing shut as I inhaled sharply.

"You drive me crazy," I huffed. "I tell you to keep a low profile, you disobey me. I tell you to stay hidden, you disobey me. I tell you I can handle it, you fucking disobey me."

A light pressure of hunger teased my flesh, and when I opened my eyes, August stood directly in front, chest an inch from mine and heaving.

My head tilted back to gaze directly into his infinite black eyes.

"He's lucky he's still breathing at all," August whispered with conviction. "He touched you, babe, and he paid the price. With every finger, with every fibre of him that defiled your honey skin with his unworthy touch. He fucking paid." His breath wisped over my face, drowning me in possessiveness, protectiveness and total necessity. "I know I went against everything you told me to do, that I disobeyed your word, so if you want to punish me, Micah, baby, have at it. Handcuff me, tie me up. Hell, spank me if that's what you want. As long as you put those fucking hands on me again before I surely go insane with need."

We weren't physically touching, but we may as well have been, my whole body caught up in him.

I had no misconceptions that he had done all this for me. And for some reason, that didn't feel so bad.