Chapter One - 2

His pretty brown eyes bore into mine, unblinking, daring me to slip, to show weakness. He’s the first psychopath I’ve ever met in my short career—there’s no denying that. And I can feel it—feel him—swarming my mind, wrapping himself around my thoughts. But it’s no time to crack. Ty’s my challenge, my first real challenge, and I can’t let him play with me.

Under different circumstances, I’d shoot him back a few sassy remarks, maybe roll my eyes just enough to show I’m not here to be intimidated. But this is my new job, the one I fought for, so I push down the urge, press my lips together, and remind myself that sometimes holding on is the smarter weapon. I can learn from this every step of the way.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I meet his gaze head-on, lifting my chin with confidence. “You’re the first,” I admit, my voice firm. “And I’m looking forward to hearing about your progress here and your plans for the future,” I add. “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

For a second, his eyes gleam with something unreadable—enjoyment, maybe. He tilts his head slightly, dismissing my words as if they were nothing more than background noise.

“You’re a city girl, aren’t you?” he says, his tone casual, like we’re just making small talk.

I blink, caught off guard. He’s completely disregarded everything I just said, effortlessly shifting the conversation back to me.

“I’m sorry, Ty. I can’t answer too many questions about my personal life. It’s…”

“But you want to know about mine, though, right?” He cuts me off and the silence that follows is stifling, my skin prickling with discomfort.

“I don’t want you here, Raven,” he finally says, each word sinking into me. “You shouldn’t be in a place like this. You’re far too…” He pauses, his dark eyes creeping down my body with a slow, almost greedy gaze. “…precious.”

My pulse jumps. Raven . He just said my real name. I’ve only been in this fucking room for ten minutes—how the hell does he know my name?

“Ms Tate,” I correct, my voice tight as my eyelids narrow, my professional mask slipping for just a second.

His lips twitch upward again, just enough to reveal those damn dimples again, playful and mocking before his face hardens once more, his expression darkening. “I mean it,” he warns gravely. “Stay the fuck away from here.”

“I like my job, Ty,” I reply, forcing the words out almost sternly. “This is my first day. I’m here to help you. I want to—”

“Help me? I’m fixed, remember? That’s what they all said. So why would I need help from you?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The confidence I had a few seconds ago feels fragile now. Not willing to play any more of his games, I make the decision to end this session. It’s becoming clear that maybe Ty doesn’t want a therapist—or maybe it’s just me he doesn’t want. Either way, I won’t make him talk to me in the right way.

I give him a sharp nod, my throat tightening as I drop my gaze to the notepad in my lap. My fingers move quickly, gathering it and my pen. I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, feeling his eyes follow my every movement as I start to stand up.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you, Ty,” I say. “I understand if you don’t want me as your therapist. That’s fine. I won’t push. I wish you all the best in your future.”

“Sit your ass back down, kitten,” he orders sharply.

I freeze, halfway out of my seat, my body stiffening at the sudden order. His dominance hits me with such force that for a second, I don’t move—don’t breathe.

I hold my notepad tighter as I start to settle back down in the chair, the leather creaking lightly beneath me. There’s a beat of silence until I glance down at him, meeting his gaze. His lips lift just enough to hint at that wicked smirk he possesses, but the darkness in his eyes masks everything else.

“What’s the rush, Raven?” he asks, dragging my name out slowly, savoring the sound of it on his tongue. “We’re just getting started and I’m far from finished with you.”

That almost sounded like a threat, but I decide to let it slide as he slowly rises in front of me and the room feels shrunk as he towers above. Without a word, he turns his back to me, and despite myself, I can’t stop my eyes from trailing up his tall frame. The way his muscles ripple beneath that tight hoodie, the way his fitted jeans hug his firm ass. He radiates a confidence I’ve never seen in a man before—it’s magnetic.

“ Fuck, ” I mutter under my breath, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

Ty freezes and my heart lurches as he sharply tilts his head just enough to catch me with a side-eye and the heat that floods my face is instant. My stomach flips as I drop my head quickly, burying myself in the safety of my notepad, opening it with shaky fingers as if it can somehow protect me from the embarrassment coursing through me.

“Say something, freckles?” he asks as he turns to face me, taking a calm seat on the edge of his bed.

“Hmm?” I hum innocently, lifting my head as if I don’t know what he’s talking about.

We lock eyes as he leans over and pulls open the bedside drawer. He withdraws a pack of cigarettes, and I watch, almost fascinated as he bites one out of the packet and lights it, the orange glow of the flame glinting in his eyes.

He takes a long drag, inhaling deeply, the smoke curling lazily from his lips as he exhales through his nose and the room quickly fills with the strong scent of tobacco.

“So…” I say, breaking the silence. “Are you looking forward to getting out? Will you be visiting anyone?”

He studies me through the haze of smoke, his gaze unnervingly relaxed, as if my questions barely register.

“You’ve clearly seen my file, so you know I killed my folks fifteen years ago. That should tell you I’ve got no one in life, Raven,” he takes a short pause before he continues, “But I have plans.”

I understand and feel for him because I know how that feels, but I steer toward the positives, hopefully. “Oh, yeah, what plans do you have?”

“Many, but I’ve got a feeling they’re all about to change,” he replies, and I feel an odd, unsettling sensation in my gut.

I inhale deeply, then give a small nod. My eyes drift toward the book sitting on the cabinet, its worn black cover standing out in the room. “You like to read?” I ask, trying to latch onto something neutral.

He follows my gaze to the book before he shakes his head once. “It’s a journal.”

My brows lift in surprise. “You write?”

The idea of him—a man who killed his parents—pouring his thoughts onto paper feels… unnerving, but also so intriguing. He looks at me, his eyes squinting slightly as he takes another deep drag of his cigarette. He holds the moment before finally exhaling and shrugging carelessly.

“They said it could help,” he says. “Getting my thoughts down rather than speaking them out loud.”

“And does it help?”

Just as his lips part to answer, something from the corner of my eye catches my attention—and his. We both turn our heads toward the door to find Dr Moss standing there, watching us. For a moment, his gaze shifts between Ty and me before finally settling on mine.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

I force a small smile, giving a quick nod, though my insides feel like they’re warped with emotions. “Perfect,” I lie because really, this feels anything but perfect, but at least Ty is starting to give me a little something to write down on this damn pad.

“That’s great, Ms. Tate,” Dr Moss replies. “Meet me in my office when you’re finished up here. There’s a couple more patients I’d like you to meet today.”

“Of course,” I respond.

I watch him leave until it’s just me and Ty again—just the two of us, alone in the thick, tense silence.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” I question.

But he just stares at me, blankly again, offering nothing and the quiet stretches out until I realize this is it. We’re done here. I close my notepad slowly, and stand.

“It was really nice meeting you, Ty,” I say gently, trying to keep my voice even. “If I don’t see you before your release, I wish you nothing but the best.”

I begin to move toward the door, but after only a few steps, I feel a sudden grasp on my wrist—locked and firm. My heart jerks into my throat, and I whirl around, eyes wide. Ty’s no longer seated. He’s standing now, towering over me. Damn, this man has got to be around six and a half foot.

I hold my breath as my gaze travels over his firm torso. His presence is overwhelming, his body so close, too close, the heat from him seeping into my skin. I tilt my head back to meet his eyes, my chest tightening as he steps forward, closing the already small distance between us until our bodies are pressed together. I swallow hard, the movement of my throat betraying my anxiety as he leans in, ghosting over my lips.

He moves so fast I barely register it before his fingers clamp around my jaw, tilting my head sharply to the side. My entire body stiffens, instinct screaming at me to push him away, but I can’t—I’m frozen under his hold.

With his other hand, he gently brushes my hair away revealing my ear, the soft, almost tender motion a strange opposite to the strong hold on my jaw. His thumb slowly drags down the line of my jaw until it’s lingering on the edge of my tattoo behind my ear. That’s when it clicks into place—he’s seen it. That’s how he knows my name.

My small raven tattoo.

“Do you know what a raven symbolizes?” he asks, but I don’t answer.

“Evil,” he exhales, the word stabbing into me. “Death.” He pauses, his gaze darkening as he leans in close. “And here you are, like something pulled out of my darkest dreams.”

A shudder runs through me, his intentions becoming clearer every time he talks.

“Be very careful, Little Kitten,” he murmurs, the space between us shrinking until there’s none left. “I can smell your fear,” he continues, “and I fucking like it.”

The growl that rumbles from his chest makes my head spin. “And so will everyone else here,” he stops, the words dangling between us before he adds, almost as an afterthought, “But this place is the least of your worries now.”

Before I can even process what he just said, he inhales deeply, the sensation of his nose brushing against my neck sending a jolt through me and my eyes flutter shut involuntarily.

“Ty,” I whisper, his name laced with a desperate edge as I try to pull back to create some distance. But he’s faster. His hand slides to the small of my back, pressing firmly, locking me against him. There’s no breaking away, his grasp tightening just enough to remind me of the power he holds between us.

“ Fucking call for them, Raven,” he taunts, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Tell them I’m touching my new therapist inappropriately. Get me locked up for another fifteen years. Save yourself from me.”

It’s like he’s daring me, as if he knows I won’t. He’s pushing me, testing me, and the worst part is—I don’t. I don’t call out, I don’t scream for help, even though I should.

He turns his head slightly and my eyes snap open just in time to catch his profile. I side-eye him but his hold on my jaw doesn’t loosen—it only clenches.

“You’re very lucky you met me confined inside this shitty place.” His bites, each word a dangerous promise. “Because this meeting between us might’ve been a very different experience if I had my freedom to say and do what I really wanted.”

His thumb slides back up my jawline, tracing the soft skin as if he’s memorizing the shape of me. When it brushes over my bottom lip, he pauses and his eyes follow the movement intently, dark lashes lowering as he watches the way my lip gives under the pressure of his thumb.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. “So pure and delicate,” he continues, his gaze flicking back to meet mine, holding eye contact. “So ready to be tainted and shattered by me.”

He looks at me like I’m something fragile—something he could break just for the satisfaction of seeing it destroyed. His thumb lingers on my bottom lip, pressing just enough to part it slightly, and I realize I’ve stopped breathing. Then, with a sudden movement, he releases me.

His heat dissipates from my body as I draw in a sharp breath, my chest tight as I lower my head, fiddling with my outfit. I steal one last glance at Ty, lowering my voice.

“You don’t know a thing about me, Ty. Don’t underestimate me. I may be a professional at work, but I’m still a normal independent woman outside of these walls that will fight any person if I have too. Don’t make me regret this.”

His brow lifts at my brazenness, “I won’t ever underestimate you, Kitten. I think you’ve got exactly what it takes.”

What the fuck does that even mean?

We have a silent moment of intensity, his dark eyes still burning with feral desire until I turn and leave without any more hesitations.

My heels echo sharply down the quiet hallway, each step too loud, too fast—desperate to put distance between me and that room, between me and him . I scan each door I pass, looking for a restroom until finally, I spot one opposite Dr Moss’s office and yank the door open, slipping inside.

The door clicks shut behind me, and I press my forehead against the cool wood, closing my eyes. One day. One fucking day. That’s all it’s been, and already, Ty has dragged me so far out of my depth I can barely think straight.

I turn, facing myself in the mirror, my glasses sitting perched on top of my head. I straighten my shoulders, then reach for the tap, twisting it open and cupping my hands under the cold water. When I splash it over my face, the chill bites into my skin, shocking me back to the present, back to reality.

Why the hell am I here? I stare at myself, water dripping from my chin, my thoughts spiraling. This was supposed to be a challenge—a chance to push myself, to grow, to help people. Maybe even help myself.

I grab a paper towel and pat my face dry, my eyes never leaving my reflection. The woman staring back at me looks fragile, but I can’t afford to be that. Not here. Not now. I came into this line of work for a reason, to find the strength I’ve always lacked.

I’m alone in this life. That’s my reality. I have no one to lean on, no one to save me but myself. It’s time to stop being that girl. I need to survive. Because in this place, hesitation means weakness, and weakness is something I can’t do. Not if I want to make it in this line of work. I straighten myself out one more time, but this time with purpose, my fingers tightening around the paper towel before tossing it in the bin.

Fuck this. I can do it.

After I’m done, I walk straight across the hall to Dr Moss’s office, pausing before gently knocking my knuckles against the wood. A moment later, I hear his calm voice from inside.

“Come on in.”

I push down the handle slowly, summoning a small, polite smile as I step inside. Dr Moss looks up from his paperwork, his brow lifting as he slips off his glasses.

“Is everything okay, Raven?” he asks.

I nod, careful not to let anything waver in my expression. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

His gaze remains on me for a beat longer before he gestures to the seat across from his desk. “How did you find your session with Ty?”

I let another small smile slip into place. “I believe we’re making progress, but it may take a few sessions,” I say smoothly with the well-rehearsed lie. Progress. The word echoes in my mind. Hollow .

Dr Moss’s face relaxes, and he nods approvingly. “Good to hear. Ty’s… a special case.”

He leans back, observing me carefully. “I know you’re new to this but trust your instincts. He’s the kind who’ll test every part of your will power if you let him. He’s extremely smart yet slightly closed off. But if you hold strong, he’ll eventually open up.”

I nod and Dr Moss gives me a reassuring smile, his gaze softening. “Good. It sounds like you’re handling it well.” He leans forward, gathering a stack of files. “Take a few minutes, then I’d like to introduce you to another patient. Today will be a long one, I’m afraid.”

“Of course,” I reply, but my mind is already wandering back to Ty—how he found out my real name, how easily he slipped beneath my skin. His subtle threats, his mocking smile, the way he touched me, tested my boundaries, my self-control… And the worst part? I let him. I could have shut it down, told Dr Moss about every remark, each line he’d crossed. But I didn’t.

Maybe because deep down, there’s this strange pull telling me he doesn’t have much time left here. Only days until he’s free. A part of me knows I should do everything by the book, keep things professional, give Dr Moss every warning sign so he can make up his mind whether Ty should ever leave these walls. But then, what would that make me? Another name in the system that let him down, caged him when he was so close to living his life on the outside. He was only a child when he did what he did. What chance at life has he actually had? So I tell myself it’s fine to let the small things slide. Maybe that was just his bizarre way of flirting.

Facts are facts, I don’t know him at all. I don’t know his personality or whether he was just teasing. And in reality, this is only temporary. I’ll never see him again once he’s gone.

“Here’s a panic button just in case you need it, Ms Tate. Keep it on you at all times while you’re here. You can never be too sure with some of these patients,” Dr Moss asserts, snapping me out of my thoughts as he leans over his desk, handing me the small, white device. I reach over, taking it from his hand before slipping it into my pocket.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“Billy Wade is yet another patient on this floor and I’d like you to meet him today as well. He hasn’t been scheduled to be freed yet, but he’s another that is making incredible improvements.” He says, handing me a file which I take and open.

As I skim through the case file, my stomach knots. Billy Wade, thirty-six. Convicted eighteen years ago for crimes so unspeakable. He had abducted two young women, chained them together, brutally abused them in ways that make the words on the page feel dark and heavy, and finally murdered them after weeks of torture. He also recorded every minute of the horrific act before selling it on the dark web. The cruel images his file paints settle into my mind, and I find myself shuddering internally.

According to these reports, Billy’s been diagnosed with psychopathy as well, yet he’s managed to show what they call “significant progress.” I remind myself that the doctors here know what they’re doing. They’ve seen this side of humanity more closely than I have, and if they think he’s progressing, it must be true.

I take a deep inhale, struggling to silence my mind. Professionalism is supposed to be my armor in situations like these. I’m here to understand, not to judge. Yet, I’m also a woman. And somewhere in the dark corner of my mind, beneath the polished therapist mask, I feel the fear, the disgust, the heartbreak for the lives he tore apart. I’m only human, but I have to walk in and engage, even if my heart hurts for those poor women.

I close the folders, stacking them neatly before pushing back from the desk with a sense of calm determination and place them down in front of Dr Moss.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

As we step out of the office, we walk side by side toward the residential wing. When we pass Ty’s open door, I peek inside briefly, but I notice he’s no longer there. I continue confidently alongside Dr Moss until we reach Billy’s room. Pausing at the doorway, I look in to see Billy reclining on his bed, a book in hand. He lifts his gaze in our direction as Dr Moss clears his throat, his dark eyes sharp and probing, but I hold my ground. I won’t let him get under my skin like Ty did. No way.

“Billy, this is Ms Tate,” Dr Moss says with a slight nod in my direction. “She’ll be leading your session today.”

Billy closes his book and sits up, eyes still locked onto me. “Of course. Ms Tate,” he says, with an almost challenging emphasis, “please, have a seat.”

I step forward before settling into the chair opposite him and crossing one leg over the other, my notepad balanced in my lap. I catch Dr Moss’s approving nod as he leaves, keeping the door ajar. Now alone with Billy, I adjust my glasses with a calm smile and make my introduction.

“It’s so good to meet you, Billy. Let’s talk about you—tell me a bit about yourself,” I say. “What keeps you occupied?”

Billy pauses, assessing me, but I keep my expression calm. “Well,” he says slowly, testing my reaction, “there’s not much to do but read and talk to the others here.”

“Sounds like a great use of time,” I say smoothly. “Any favourite genres?”

He shrugs, his gaze narrowing. “My first choice would be horror, if they’d allow it. Otherwise, whatever they’ve got in the library.” He lets out a low chuckle, his bright yellow teeth showing just a little.

I smile slightly before I continue, “Have you thought about what you’d like to do once you’re out?”

He nods, shifting as he studies me. “Yeah, I’ve got family—my momma, an aunt, cousins…” His gaze narrows, gauging my reaction. “And my girl.”

I keep my expression neutral as I look up, surprised but relaxed. “You have a girlfriend? I’m sure she’s looking forward to seeing you.”

His smile widens, as if he's savouring some private triumph. “Of course, I have a girlfriend. She’s stood by me through everything. She knows I didn’t mean to do what I did—I wasn’t myself.”

A chill works its way up my spine, but I keep my face neutral, nodding as I jot down his words. “I’m glad you’ve had support through all this, Billy,” I reply, measuring each word. “That can make a real difference.”

Billy’s smile stretches, eyes fixed on mine. “I don’t know where I’d be without them,” he says, voice strangely flat. “I’m a reformed man now, Ms Tate. I’ll be out of here in no time.”

I nod thoughtfully, holding his gaze for a moment longer before shifting in my seat. We speak for a while longer, getting to know him and all about his plans when or if he leaves this place, then I think it’s time to move onto the next patient.

“Is there anything you need from me?” I offer, voice steady. “I’m here to help, anytime you need.”

He shakes his head, gaze shadowed. “Not today, Ms Tate,” he murmurs. “But I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

When he leans back, the glint in his eyes is as unreadable as it is unsettling. But I remind myself to stay firm and wrap up our session with a smile. “Thank you for talking with me today, Billy. I appreciate it.”

Billy watches me wordlessly as I exit, his eyes following every step until I’m around the corner. Exhaling, I feel the anxiety of the encounter settle in as I head down the corridor.

I spot a nurse wheeling a medication trolley and approach her with a polite nod. “Hi, I’m Ms Tate,” I say, introducing myself with a warm smile. “A new therapist here. I’d like to get to know the patients a bit better—would it be alright if I tag along?”

The nurse, Cathy from what I see one her name tag, gives a small nod, her expression impassive. “Sure.” She agrees gravely.

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 Cathy he’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.