24. Psycho

The cell enclosed tighter, compressing on my lungs.

She should have come for me by now.

With each minute that transpired over our allocated meeting time, feelings of doubt threatened to slither forward and corrupt my stronghold image of her.

Have I been played? Has she left me here to rot?

No matter how her vision played out in my head, I couldn't bring myself to believe she had abandoned me. What we had went beyond reason, beyond comprehension.

Why has she not come for me?

A clicking at my door alerted me in time to slink into the darkened corner of my room. A savage smile dominated my face as my fingers tightened around the shank I stole from Walter.

In the minimal glow of moonlight, I could make out a toned, muscular, dark-skinned male meander into the room, trailed by a petite blonde, both in biker gear. As the door clicked shut behind them, my corporeal system ticked over into predator mode. They were strange, even with the barrier in place. Especially him—warning vibes ran off him like a steady stream.

I was waiting for my golden girl, but this would have to do.

My muscles tensed for the inevitable onslaught when the male's head pivoted my way, his smoky brown stare fastened on my hidden position. I was drenched in shadow, hardly visible, but his gaze held mine and never wavered, boring straight into my brain as if to pick apart the pieces he found worthy of examining.

He was shorter than me by a mere couple of inches. Accompanied with his pretty boy features, he emanated a certain allure and magnetism that screamed equal parts power and danger.

My type of guy. Finally, a worthy opponent, my mouth watering from the challenge.

Action now, questions later.

He lifted a brow and I launched towards him when my body was hit off-balance from the side. All my focus was on the pretty boy before me, my brain blocking out the tiny blonde as a non-threat—which I paid for.

Before I could even register her movement, she'd released a high kick that hit directly into my ribs with an echoing crack. My knees buckled to the ground, shallow gasps escaping my throat.

I narrowed my lids at her approach. The little kitten had claws, and judging by her deadly expression, she was ready to deliver. The metallic twang of blood rolled over my tongue. I coughed up the remainder and spat at her feet, the gauntlet well and truly laid.

"Don't underestimate me," she said, her sing-song voice chiming like bells.

"An oversight on my part. One I won't make again." Jolting to my feet, I rolled my shoulders back in preparation. I'll snap Pixie Face in half, then dispose of her companion, pop some of those porcelain teeth straight out of his smug mouth (which hadn't lost its smirk since I was knocked to the ground).

Pretty Boy gripped her shoulder. "We aren't here to fight, Meek. We're here to break him out."

"Who the fuck are you?" I growled.

Pixie Face sneered and shook off his hand. "We're wasting time. We should cut our losses and search ourselves."

"We would waste more time if we got lost down there." His tone was impatient, as if he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "We can't kill him. Micah wouldn't be pleased."

Golden Girl?

"Where is Micah?" I demanded.

I watched the fight filter from Pixie's striking blue eyes, her next words resounding through my skull. "That's the problem. We don't know."

"What does that mean?"

They shared a weighted glance and my patience evaporated into the atmosphere—gone, adrift in the fucking ether. I stepped up to bodycheck her, despite being twice her size. Undeniably an asshole move, but my girl was missing, and no one was getting in my way. Fucking no one.

"You better spit it the fuck out, little one."

She raised an eyebrow, not the least bit intimidated, when I was shoved back by a firm male hand. "Back the fuck up. We're Micah's family, and she's missing. We don't have time for this." Before I could charge forward, his eyes narrowed. "She wanted to come here herself."

"Then why didn't she?"

His jaw clenched as his condemning eyes narrowed on Pixie Face. He was fucking livid—at her.

Her features slackened under his scrutiny. "The mission got pushed forward and…she stayed." Her voice turned harsh. "We don't know why, but she stayed behind without us."

A strong impression of foreboding tingled down my spine. "Mission? Ava? What happened?! You were supposed to get me first."

The two women that ruled my life…their fates intertwined into one, causing my heart to plummet into overdrive at the possibility of either of them being hurt.

"Ava is safe. Micah wouldn't have it otherwise. While your sister is secure, my own sister is now missing." Her tone was sharp, but not quite accusing. "She entered the underground via Forbidden Garden. That was her last known location. We don't know the Caverns well enough. We're out of our depth. We need you. She needs you."

Half a breath. Bittersweet. Relief for Ava's safety was quickly overpowered by concern for Micah. "That's all I need to know. Get me out of here and I'll find her."

"We will find her."

"I work alone."

"Not with this, you don't. She's ours first and foremost, so get that into your dick brain right now."

Dick brain?She advanced and dug a finger into my chest. "We work together, that's how we operate. Don't fuck with our system. Don't fuck with her." We weren't exactly talking about the mission anymore. She was concerned for Micah, and would protect her against everything. Including me.

I raised my hands in surrender and plastered a cocky smirk on my face. "I'll help you. But once I find her, she's going to be punished so fucking hard for breaking her promise to me."

They both groaned in unison, equal expressions of disgust written on their faces.

The male surrendered a knife to me with a heavy stare, weighing me for judgement. He let me take it, which was a surprising gesture in itself.

"Don't take this for granted," he said, and I nodded.

As we ventured down the deserted hallway, more light filtered through the barred glass panels. My eyes roamed over their features, their mannerisms. They appeared different, yet moved scarily similar to my golden girl. It was uncanny.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Just wondering how Micah got all the good genes."

The brown-eyed male huffed, then looked over his shoulder to flick a finger between he and Pixie Face. "Tanner and Emerson King. Finally we get to meet the Psycho. Let's hope you live up to your reputation."

They wouldn't have to wait long. I was more than willing to deliver.

We rounded familiar corridors,my escape inevitable. I'd thought I'd be elated, exhilarated by my release. However, I couldn't concentrate on anything except Micah. My freedom would amount to nothing if she wasn't beside me. Imprisoned and trapped in a wholly different way. I refused to settle, refused to even consider that future a possibility.

The duo led me past the harrowing grey basement door and my gut churned. "What's today?" They halted by my side. They didn't have to answer, the hairs on my arms rose on end as I pushed against the lever. "Do you have access?" I'd relinquished Fern's swipe to Micah after I got in trouble.

Emerson shook her head. "There's no time."

"For this, I'll make time. Micah would want me to." I wasn't lying. She'd be disappointed if I left without retribution.

Tanner examined my resolve and offered a swipe from his pocket. "Make it quick."

I disappeared through the archway and retraced the map from my shotty memory. With the lingering smell of bleach, my previous state of helplessness and vulnerability burned through my circulatory system, saturating each nerve ending in twelve months' worth of fury and wrath.

I crept into the office adjacent to the operating theatre, Burner's head bowed over an ostentatious desk. Before he could process my intrusion, I'd already lifted his bulk, slamming his back against the hard desk's surface, his head tilted backward over the side, hanging mid-air, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Burner dared not move in my presence, his eyes crazed with panic. My favourite look.

I retrieved a cigarette from my pocket, lit the tip and let the ashes fall over his sternum. "I wish I wasn't on a deadline."

His words blurred into a convoluted mess. "Psycho. The lobotomy wasn't my idea. It wasn't up to me. I was against it."

I cackled. "You think I give a fuck about that? You're a dirty excuse for a manager of Oakview. You don't know the meaning of the word recovery."

"I'm s-sorry."

"If only that would save you."

"Hold on, we can work something out. I'll bring in Dr Chaser." Wrong move, asshole.

I tilted my chin at Tanner. "Give me a hand."

He followed my instruction, his arm muscles bulging as he restrained Burner to the desk. When he was situated, I placed one hand on Burner's forehead, the other grasping his chin.

Burner tried to talk through my restrained grip. "Plea—"

"Not another word from that serpent fucking tongue. My only regret is my shortage of time, so this will have to do." He struggled beneath me and Tanner as I shoved a hand into his mouth, his stretched throat battling for air, gurgling from the invasion. With a final grunt of effort, I ripped his lower jaw clean off his face.

I examined my work…not the smoothest extraction. I hadn't intended to kill him instantaneously, I at least wanted him to bleed out for a bit. But due to my rush, I nicked an artery along the way, his carotid now severed and spurting an intermittent fountain of red all over the floor.

Three down, one to go. Then the Terror Squad will be eradicated.

As I turned for the exit, Tanner and Emerson crowded the open archway, assessing my handy work with clinical precision.

Tanner swept a clean hand through his wavy hair. "A bit too messy for my liking." I didn't know how he'd remained so clean. I was a fucking mess.

I flicked the butt of my cigarette on top of Burner's cooling corpse. "I'll admit, I'm a bit rusty." I hitched a thumb towards the operating room next door. "Only practice will help with that."

"I like it," Emerson said, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "Can we help? We need to hurry this along." My eyes widened. Her words were in disparity with her pixie-petite appearance and soft-spoken voice.

I shook my head at the conflicting image and spared a wink. "Who would I be not to include my in-laws in the fun?"

Tanner rolled his eyes and Emerson groaned.

I entered the operating theatre with pizzazz, opening my arms wide. "Let me introduce you to Dr Mudlark, otherwise known as the mad scientist!" The man in question stood on the opposite side of the room, a drill contraption loose between his hands. His mask dropped and absolute terror coloured his face as he processed my blood-drenched clothes.

I glanced at the patient gagged and strapped to the trolley, recognition flaring at the sunshine man. Dead flowers still wove through his matted hair, his eyes begging for rescue.

Disgust laced my taste buds from the fresh remainder of my most recent capture. I lit another cigarette to expel the taste. "You depraved fuck," I spat at the doctor.

"What is this?" Emerson asked, stalling at the threshold.

Tanner rounded the gurney with intentional strides. The atmosphere pitched below freezing, waveforms of pure threatening menace radiating off his flesh. I practically got high off the potent fumes. It was fascinating to watch the rapid transition from a stoic waveless shore to an inevitable soul-destroying tsunami.

Dr Mudlark stood frozen, his pallor transitioning into a dusky green. Tanner removed the drill from his stiff fingers and examined the instrument. "You weren't even going to knock him out?" His frigid tone added to the pressured ambience.

My mouth curved into a shit-eating grin, unrestrained delight tickling my insides. Pretty Boy had been holding out on me.

I released the gag from Sunshine Boy's mouth and pulled on the buckles restraining his limbs. At his victim's release, Dr Mudlark miraculously found his balls and launched for the door.

Emerson tsked, preventing his exit by a swift kick to his legs, his old bones ricocheting off the tiled floor.

"The goddess provides…the goddess provides," Sunshine Man repeated, his deranged gaze bouncing over the doctor's body.

Tanner palmed the drill over to me and assisted Emerson with replacing Sunshine on the trolley with the good doctor, his gurgled screams cut short as a gag was shoved between his teeth.

While they applied the restraints to his bucking form, I laid a loose arm over Sunshine's shoulders, guiding him to the head. "Your devotion has not gone unnoticed, and the Sun Goddess has decided to reward her most faithful subject."

He vigorously nodded, muttering praised nonsense. I turned the switch on and the pointed drill tip began to spin on its axis. I placed the vibrating, humming hunk of metal into his bony hand, his gaze raising to mine with the undeniable glimmer of hunger.

In the depths of his orbs, I saw the same excessive thirst that all us crazy motherfuckers were afflicted with. I got the impression this hadn't been his first visit with Dr Mudlark, and he had most likely fallen victim to numerous questionable experimentations in the past. He needed this more than me.

No further words were required.

With Dr Mudlark strapped tightly to the trolley, we left Sunshine Man alone with his tormentor.

Emerson hummed next to me. "Spence is going to be so pissed she missed out." She sounded pleased.

"Who's Spence?"

"Your new favourite person," Tanner chuckled in front of us, his previous death persona nowhere to be seen, washed away by a silent tide.

Who the fuck are these people?

My steps lightened as we trailed towards the exit. Satisfaction hummed in my chest, accompanied with the irrefutable echo of steel grinding against bone.