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 believes her 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, I carefully 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.

Billy struggling with a woman on the floor beneath him. My angry eyes sweep down his back, his huge body consuming her and between her legs. I quietly enter, digging into my pocket before closing the door behind me. They don’t notice I’m here. As my wide eyes assess the situation, I creep forward, bit by bit noticing who the fuck he’s trying to rape.

Kitten.

Her legs kick against the ground, heels scraping uselessly, her face hidden beneath his huge hand, her voice swallowed in muffled cries.

His other hand fumbles with his belt and she’s struggling with everything she has, clawing at his face. But he’s no match to her size. I notice her ripped panties not too far away and her panic button across the room just as I stop behind them. Anger surges through me like the last time I killed, the darkness seeping through my veins.

With the razor blade between my fingers, I lean over grabbing his dark hair and forcefully yanking it back, making his neck cracking from the sharp movement. My eyes collide with Raven’s. Red, raw, wet, and filled with pure fear. My hot blood runs cold for a second just as Billy reaches up to grab my hand.

“Shh, my little kitten,” I whisper coldly, my eyes glazed over.

I press the sharp razors edge to his throat and without a second thought, I swiftly slice across it. His blood sprays all over Raven instantly, but she doesn’t make a sound. Her body shakes as she covers her face with her hands. The sight of all the blood does something to me. Something dangerous. Pulling me back to that day, fifteen years ago. I hold his hair tightly, his gurling starting to fade as he tries to hold his open throat.

When Billy's lifeless form slumps fully, I rip him off her, his heavy body rolling to the side with a final thud. Raven immediately scrambles back, her eyes wild and desperate as she pushes against the wall, her gasps shuddering out, her gaze locked on the corpse lying between us. My own inhalation is heavy, syncing with hers in an almost eerie rhythm, and when her gaze finally lifts from Billy to meet mine, we hold that raw, electrified moment.

I step forward slowly, carefully moving around the pool of blood, and she curls inward, wary of me, her whole-body trembling in the aftermath. I kneel in front of her, my eyes tracing over her face. She’s somehow even more beautiful with fear woven into every line of her expression.

My gaze drifts downward to her torn shirt, hanging off her shoulder and revealing the curve of her black lace bra beneath, a hint of her pink nipple peeking through the thin fabric. I can’t deny it: she’s mesmerizing like this. She sees the feral look in my eyes and immediately raises her hands to cover herself.

My fingers twitch with the urge to touch, the sight of her drenched in that dark red liquid pulling me to the edge of losing control, my obsession growing tighter. I’ve always had a thing for blood, but this… This is something fucking else entirely.

Without warning, something in me snaps. My hands reach out faster than any thought, seizing the small of her waist harshly and yanking her toward me in one swift motion. The sound she makes—a sharp, startled squeak—cuts through the small room. Her hands fly up, slamming into my chest in a desperate bid to stop me.

“Ty!” she hisses, her quiet tone trembling.

Her reaction hits me like a shockwave, and I freeze. Then my eyes widen as the reality of what I’m doing slams into me and my hands pull back as if they’re burned.

She moves slowly and cautiously as she presses herself back against the wall again. Her hands tremble slightly, but her eyes remain steady, watching me with the kind of fear that feels like a scalpel cutting into me, dissecting my every move. Is she afraid? Curious? Or something in between? I can’t tell, and the not-knowing coils in my chest like barbed fucking wire. This isn’t me. Not usually. I’m the one who’s always in control, always scheming, keeping the crazy locked beneath the surface. But the sight of her—her skin streaked with blood, her hair matted and wild—did something to me. It struck a match against the darkest parts of me, igniting something primal, something I can’t name but can’t suppress.

“You… you saved me…” she whispers, dragging me out of my thoughts, her voice barely clear over the intense rasp of her breath. Tears carve pale tracks through the blood on her cheeks, and I reach out again, but this time slowly, wanting to touch her in a gentle way, but she flinches back, pressing further into the wall.

“Don’t… don’t touch me,” she mutters. “This… this is a crime scene. You need to go, Ty.”

My brow furrows as I watch her yank off her shirt, her tits jiggling with each movement. She gets on her knees in front of me, her eyes darting between me and Billy’s corpse. But instead of running for her life, she edges closer until I can feel her body heat on mine.

I stare at her carefully as she spits onto a small white bloodless patch of her shirt, then raises it to my face. Her trembling hand dabs away the specks of blood I hadn’t even realized were there. Her touch is so soft that it throws me off. A strange heat spreading to the icy parts of my soul. Every second that ticks by, I gaze at her face, allowing her to wipe away the traces of the murder I just committed, gradually becoming my partner in crime.

Her gaze meets mine now and then until she pauses with the fabric hovering over my skin.

“Why’d you do that? You could have just knocked him out or something.” she asks, her eyes dropping to my lips with an intensity that almost makes my dick hard.

I lift a brow, the act more than natural to me, but even more so now when it comes to her.

“That isn’t even a fraction of what I’d do for you, kitten. He had his hands on what’sfucking mine.

She remains still, mauling over what I just said, thinking carefully until she finally answers.

“Yours?” she breathes out. “I’m not yours, Ty.”

I don’t say anything back. She can think what the fuck she wants for now, but she’ll see in time just how mine she is.

She carefully holds her shaky hand out and my gaze drifts to it.

“Give me the razor blade and go.” My eyes flash to hers and she continues sternly, “I owe you.”

She’s covering for me again. Even after murder?

“Please…” she pleads, her watery eyes scanning mine.

I inhale deeply, lifting my hand and placing the blade in the centre of her palm. She springs into action instantly, rubbing the blade with her shirt, getting rid of my fingerprints. When she stands, I do too, watching as she walks over to billy, pressing it to his fingertips then dropping it and her shirt onto the blood-soaked floor.

Then she leans over, reaching for her panic button and she turns to face me. She looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to follow her orders, her thumb hovering over the button. I take one last look at Billy, then her before I turn around and leave.

…