Chapter Three

Raven

The lights in Dr Moss’s office are too bright, harsh against my heavy, sore eyelids. My body is covered by the scratchy grey blanket they gave me, but it does nothing to soothe the lingering pressure I feel across my skin, the remnants of Billy's disgusting touch, the phantom weight of his body, the smell of his stinking hand smothering me. I can still feel it pushing against my face, and the nausea surges back up, violent and thick in my throat.

I keep my head low, arms wrapped around myself tightly as if I could squeeze the memories right out of me. Then, I catch a glimpse of the hallway through the open door. They’re wheeling Billy’s body away in a thick black bag, his form barely visible through the zipped plastic. The sight should bring relief, but instead, a shiver runs through me, cold and relentless.

I lied to the cops and made up a story. I told them I somehow got that razor blade off Billy and defended myself. Given his history, they didn’t seem interested in trying to see if I was lying. They just took my word for it and left me alone. I have no doubt in my mind it’s now a closed case with how sympathetic they were.

I couldn’t let them punish Ty. Not after what he did. Not after he saved me. He hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t held back. He’d done what had to be done, what I couldn’t do, and even now, with his voice echoing in my mind, calm as he whispered to me in that janitor’s closet, I feel unsettled.

“He had his hands on what’s mine.” The words replay, dark and possessive, and they settle over me with a strange comfort I can’t seem to shake.

But that’s not why I lied. I lied because, if he hadn’t been there, if his timing had been even a second off… I close my eyes, squeezing them tight. I would have been broken, maybe even dead. Ty had saved my life. And though he’s as dangerous as anyone else in this place—maybe even more so—he’d come through for me in a way no one else would have in my life.

The tension in my body is interrupted by a soft voice.“Ms. Tate?”

Dr Moss is standing at the threshold. I can feel him studying me carefully as if he’s afraid I might crumble right here on the chair. I slowly lift my head to meet his gaze, summoning whatever remains of my strength.

“I’m sorry you went through all that on your first day, Raven. This has never happened before on this floor,” he says, but I don’t answer. “I think you should take a couple of days off.”

My eyes snap upward to his and I shake my head. “No. Please. I’m fine...”

His cocks to the side as he observes me, but my gaze never weavers. I need him to see I’m not only ready for this, but also, I know I need to see Ty before he leaves. I’ve got things to say, things to lay down. I can’t just sit in that depressive house and replay everything over in my head repeatedly, it will send me on a downward spiral.

“Are you sure? I don’t want…”

“I’m absolutely sure.” I cut him off firmly.

He inhales sharply, slipping his hands into his pants pockets then gives a sharp nod.

“Okay,” he agrees, and my body relaxes. “I guess you should head home now and get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

I nod in agreement, gently standing on my aching legs. With the blanket still wrapped around me. I lift my briefcase and head toward the door. As I enter the hallway, I glance back, seeing Ty’s door is now closed, the light dim. I inhale a shaky breath, then exit Sacred Heights.

…

The next morning, as dawn’s first light seeps through the windows, I pour Midnight's food and watch her devour it, purring low and constant as I run my hand along her sleek fur.

“I’ll see you later, baby girl,” I murmur, scratching just behind her ears where she likes it best. She doesn’t look up, fully absorbed.

With a final glance around the house, I gather my briefcase and step out, feeling the cold air hit me like an icy wave. I lock the door, hearing the creak of old wood and metal, and head down the steps. There’s a strange hush outside, a mist blanketing the quiet street. Sacred Heights still settles heavily in my mind, like a dark spot I can’t rub out, but the coldness, the fog—they fit the heaviness that hasn’t lifted since last night. I pull the car door open and toss my briefcase onto the passenger seat with a huff.

Just as I get ready to settle in, a pair of voices catch my attention. Turning my head, I see a couple emerging from a house not far from mine, laughter bubbling between them, the man’s arm slung around her shoulders. They’re walking toward me, his hand resting protectively on her and I force a smile as the woman waves.

“Hey!” she calls, her voice bright; cutting through the chilly silence and I pause, trying to match her warmth.

“Hey,” I answer back, feeling the forced cheer slip into place.

They’re close now, and I see they’re both attractive—like a magazine ad, although older than me. The man, with curious eyes, studies me.

“Just moved in?” he asks.

I shake my head and glance over at my broken-down little house, its chipped paint and wrecked porch, the opposite to the suburban beauty of the other homes I’m used to.

“No. I’m just here for work experience at Sacred Heights for the next month.”

The man’s expression shifts to something between horror and intrigue, his brows rising. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, half in admiration, half in disbelief. “You’re brave. I heard messed-up stories about that place growing up.”

I manage a smile, thin and polite. “You grew up here?” I ask, my gaze flicking between them.

He nods. “I did. My mom’s been next door forever.” He looks down at the woman, and she smiles up at him, her expression lit with some secret, shared moment. “We’re just visiting, but we don’t live too far from here,” he explains.

The woman’s gaze swings back to me, bright and inviting, completely changing the subject.

“Hey, why don’t you come out with us tonight? There’s this little bar down the road.” She gestures through the mist where all I can see is a blur of streetlights and a few houses.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I start, caught off guard, still feeling last night all over me. I’m not sure if a night out is what I need—or want.

“Come on,” she insists, her tone persuasive and warm. “It’ll be fun!”

I hesitate, looking at their eager faces before I give in with a small nod. Maybe a few drinks wouldn’t hurt, just enough to get them off my back for now. I don’t have the energy to keep going back and forth.

“Sure,” I say, exhaling slowly.

They exchange a grin, her eyes lighting up. “We’ll knock around seven?” she says, pacing back with him, still holding onto his arm.

“Yeah,” I nod again before observing them walk away, her laughter echoing faintly as they disappear back into the haze.

Finally alone, I slide into my car, letting the quiet settle around me again.

…

As I drive through the iron gates of Sacred Heights, last night clings to me like a deathly shadow I can’t shake. The way I’d scrubbed my skin until it was red raw, desperate to get rid of Billy’s scent, and yet it still seems to be there, haunting thought.

I felt each sleepless hour echo in my bones, the sexual assault playing over and over like a twisted fucking film reel. The way he touched me intimately. His cubby fingers wrapping around my panties as he ripped them off me. How I felt him between my legs.

And I was alone dealing with it all. Only Midnight was there, her warm presence the closest thing to support I could find. But it wasn’t enough—not really. In all honesty, all I wanted was a simple hug, someone to tell me I’ll be okay. But I guess, I need to just realize that this is my life. For now, I’m alone and I have to deal with things like this, alone.

As I pull up to the grim old building, its towering shape barely visible, I cut the engine and let out a slow exhale. I tell myself it’ll be worth it, all this—the fear, the disgust, the exhaustion. It has to be. But I’ve got some things to say to Dr Moss today. No matter where I am in the building, even on the lowest floor, this place needs better security. There’s no room for mistake in a place like this. It’s far too risky for patients and staff.

Gripping my briefcase with determination, I step out of the car, locking it with a firm click. The fog wraps around me, swallowing each step as I cross the gravel, every crunch underfoot sharp against the creepy quiet. Reaching the entrance, I nod to the guard, who waves me through without hesitation.

As I enter the Asylum, closing the heavy door behind me, I’m immediately met by the chaos of frantic shouts and hurried footsteps booming down the hall. Doctors and nurses swarm around a patient, their faces fixed with concentration and caution. My brow furrows, curiosity and unease nudging me forward as I try to make sense of the situation.

“You fucking bastards!” The young woman shouts, hoarse and trembling with anger. “You’ve already taken so much from me, and you still keep me here to do it! I remember everything—you can’t erase any of it!”

The patient is someone I don’t recognize, her face pale with terror. In her grasp, she clutches a metal bar, her knuckles white around it. I don’t fully understand what she means—maybe she’s caught in some kind of delusion. Whatever it is, her pain feels very real.

“You can’t fucking keep me here to play your sick games! I’m not an experiment! I’m a human!”

She swings the metal bar wildly, her fury spiralling out of control, but Dr Moss takes a cautious step forward, speaking gently, his voice low and calm, yet I can’t hear what he said.

The woman’s response is a bloodcurdling scream as she lashes out, nearly catching him with the bar. In an instant, a male doctor slips behind her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and with the coordinated movements of a team that’s done this before, they restrain her. The struggle only ends as they give her a sedative and her cries slowly fade into silence as her body finally goes limp.

I stand at a distance, watching as they lift her, her now-sleeping form swinging between them. A pang of sympathy knots in my chest; seeing someone so lost, so much heartache, is harder than I thought.

As the hallway clears, Dr Moss lets out a sigh, visibly defeated, and turns to approach me.

“Ah, Raven,” he says with a strained smile. “Great to see you here. It’s already been a bit of a morning.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” I reply, nodding as he gestures for me to follow him into his office. Inside, he lets the tension seep out, running a hand across his brow with a slow, tired shake of his head.

“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.

I stumble slightly, brushing my red hair out of my face as I watch him shut the door behind me, locking the world out. The walls close in as he turns, advancing with intensity, until I instinctively back up, only to feel the wall against my shoulders. There’s nowhere else to go.

He braces his arm against the wall above me, trapping me beneath his gaze, his tall frame eclipsing the light as he speaks, low and unwavering.

“I thought I told you not to come back here, Raven.”

With my head tilted back, he rests his forehead against the wall overhead, eyes locked on mine.

“This is my job, Ty. I’m not leaving. Besides I needed to speak to you.” I respond quietly.

His eyes search mine as I reach up, my fingers latching around the strings of his hoodie, “Firstly…” I whisper before pulling on them and he dips his face down close to mine until his lips hover just above mine.

I swallow hard from the close proximity, the smokiness of his breath and take a quick glance at his soft lips. I find myself stupidly wanting to kiss them, to feel them on mine, but I don’t, I tilt my head and softly press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. His body stiffens from the connection, just enough for me to notice, and I release, my lips peeling away from his skin.

“Thank you,” I murmur before drawing back slowly. His dark eyes catch mine and I can see the intensity in them, the way he’s holding onto everything he has not to pounce and take advantage right here.

“I’m sorry…” I say, panic rising inside me and I try to slip past him, but his other arm rises quickly, resting against the wall, caging me in.

“If I wasn’t in here, I would have shoved my cock so far inside your ass by now, the only way you would have left this damn room is by walking like Bambi or worse, in a fucking body bag,” he growls against my lips and my eyes broaden.

“I’m clinging to every last shred of control I have, Kitten, but the thread is fucking fraying—bit by fucking bit, unravelling every time I see you, every time I catch even a trace of your scent, I can feel it slipping, that final hold on my sanity wearing thinner and thinner. I’m always mentally… fucking you. Violently. And I can’t get the images out of my head, especially with my hand wrapped around my dick.”

I take a deep gulp, a sickening thrill almost trembling down to my core as he continues, “Any cure for that before I leave, Ms Tate?”

I feel stuck, his cold eyes scanning mine, wanting me to play his game, but I stay professional and raise my chin in response.

“Go live your life, Ty. Meet a nice girl and have some fun. But not violently. Forget me and forget this place. You’re about to see how beautiful life can really be.”

Ty’s lips twitch ever so slightly, his brown eyes flashing with something that sets my nerves on edge. Without a word, he pushes himself off the wall before he turns away and walks toward his bag. The room feels tiny somehow, the tension coiling like a snake ready to strike. I exhale shakily, forcing a composed posture, even as my heart thuds against my ribcage.

“Ty, this thing…” I begin, my voice soft but firm and it makes him pause, his hand hovering over his bag, then he turns his head slightly to look straight at me. I gesture between us, trying to find the right words. “It’s not going to happen. I appreciate what you did—helping me with Billy—but…” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, this could never be a thing.”

For a moment, his jaw flexes, the muscles in his cheek moving with displeasure as he stares down at his bag. Then he straightens, letting out a small, humourless chuckle.

“Of course, Raven. I get it,” he says, and a small wave of relief washes over me.

But then he turns fully, his gaze sweeping over me, his lips curling into a smirk. “I mean, what pretty little perfect therapist ends up with their psychotic patient, right? That would be so…” his head swings from side to side as he studies me, “unprofessional . ”

I don’t respond, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as he takes one slow step closer.

“Maybe you’re right, beautiful girl,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, more sinister. “Maybe this is just some sick little fantasy. I just need to fuck, that’s all,” he takes a brief pause his gaze darkening, “ Violently. ” He grits out, his teeth clenched.

My stomach churns, and I fight to keep my expression neutral. I stare at him, trying to decipher whether he’s teasing me, testing me, or just trying to rattle me. Whatever this is, it needs to end now.

I square my shoulders, my chin raising in defiance. “Is there anything else I can help you with before I go?” My tone is steady, but my fingers twitch at my sides, ready to move if he does.

He looks away, moving back towards his bag, and after he’s zipped his bag, he lifts it, slinging it over shoulder.

“No,” he says, almost bluntly. “You’ve done enough.”

I feel my shoulders relax, then give a small nod. “Well, goodbye, Ty.”

He just stares at me with his chin lifted, not saying any else, so I turn around, leaving his room with a strange sense of sorrow and confusion settling inside me.