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“Killian, you can’t just keep locking yourself away. We need to talk. Baby, please.”
He’s desperate. He never calls us baby.
Fuck, K. Just let him in.
I would have if I wasn’t rooted to my spot, safe from the world. I couldn’t go out there, outside of the blanket. My safety was in here. So, I did the next best thing and answered his constant pleas. “I… I can’t.”
“Killian? Why not? Are you hurt?”
“No.” I shuffled underneath the blanket, enjoying how I could reach the edge of my world. I was safe here, right? My voices didn’t respond.
“What—”
“I… I’m safe here.” I wondered where all the confidence from the last week had disappeared to when I needed it. It had slipped away, and neither Dark nor Daemon seemed to have acquired it.
“Safe? What do you mean?”
“It’s too much. I… can’t.” My voice cracked, and I heard a thud against the door, most likely Aeron’s head, as he leaned into the door. I wanted to accept his help but didn’t want to leave this cocoon.
“Let me help you.” His voice came again, much softer and weaker.
Oh… he’s going to help us out of our head.
Do it, K.
“I can’t,” I whispered to them because I really couldn’t. I wanted to. But I just… couldn’t. There was this empty void in my head, like an impenetrable itch. I wanted to scratch it. I had been scratching it, but it seemed locked, and the more I chipped away at it, the more it seemed like I wasn’t supposed to play with it.
I knew that Dark and Daemon were just pieces of my subconscious manifesting as different alters. We all knew the same information, more or less. But this little black hole in my head? They didn’t know about it, and I didn’t know how to share that there may be something darker than all three of us lurking in the depths of my consciousness.
Something darker than my three men.
Something darker than Primrose had ever seen before.
It was then that I realized my panic attacks weren’t panic attacks at all. They were the manifestation of fear and terror as I unknowingly scratched at that little itch. I had slowly been unlocking the true beast in my head. The question was, had it already been released, or had I stopped just in time?
SLASH
The surgery took just over three hours with no complications. Lucky bitch. Now, I was just aimlessly looming over her fragile form, waiting for her to open her eyes before I shoved her chart at whoever the fuck was taking over. I had resisted the growing urge to unhook one of her wires or just strangle her, but I wanted more than that. I needed her blood, her screams, her loss of hope as she realized no one was going to save her. The worst part was that the tremor in my hand had gotten worse. Way worse.
It had been torture using my scalpel to save the damn woman when I had wanted nothing more than to slice her up on my table and offer her pieces to Aeron when I got home. But people were watching, and while I had no problems fucking in front of an audience, killing was an entirely personal thing. It was for me and me alone. Although the idea of sharing a kill with Killian and then bathing ourselves in the blood as I fucked him within an inch of his life was a possibility.
My lips curved slightly into the smile I had perfected over the years as I dragged a finger down the woman’s cheek in front of me.
Where’s your wife, Casey? I could only imagine Talia was snooping around somewhere else she didn’t belong, but Casey had always been the one that I hated the most. Talia had been the nurse, but Casey? She was the self-prescribed psychiatrist who always tried to get into our heads and make us believe that something was wrong with us.
Somehow Aeron got around most of the shit they tried to throw at him, but not me. I couldn’t count how many times they had locked me in cubbies, dark rooms, or outside in the cold to make me think about my actions. I had been left at venues to find my way home, dropped off in the woods, and beaten until I couldn’t move an inch. Just to think about my actions. The more horrid types of reform involved chains, torture, and their makeshift stone dungeon that I still had nightmares about. But now I had become the aggressor, set on making people pay.
I hadn’t thought about either of my foster mothers in years, but with their arrival, it was all I could think about. How vulnerable I had been. How helpless we all had been until Samael bulldozed right through like he did everything.
Something stirred to my right, and my eyes landed on Casey blinking, trying to reorient herself to her new reality. I should have been checking her vitals, asking if she knew what day it was, and all the stuff a respectable doctor would have. But I was not a respectable doctor, and I did not fucking care about the woman in front of me.
I waited for her to realize who was standing over her. When she did, she immediately tried to shuffle away, but the pain kept her from moving too much. My hand shot out to pull her back onto the bed, and she whimpered at the way it jolted her body. Her green eyes were lit with horror as I waited for her to respond to her situation.
I expected yelling or some kind of berating, but not the tears falling down her cheeks as her chest rose and fell, sobs racking her body. “My baby. My wife. He killed my wife.” I froze and stared at her, wondering who had stolen my anticipated joy. She clutched at her temples, most likely trying to ease the pain running through her head. “I – why are you here, Jason?”
A devious smile spread across my lips. “They called me in to operate on you.” Casey shriveled before my eyes at the news that I was not only a doctor, but her doctor, and it warmed my cold, dead heart. “I can’t disrespect my craft.” My fingers cradled the spot of surgery for a moment before they trailed down her cheek and wiped away her tears. “But fuck, if I could? I’d have killed you on that operating table.” I leaned in and placed the devil’s kiss on her forehead. She shivered, and I just smiled wider as I sat beside her, “Now, tell me. Who the fuck killed Talia?”
Casey stared at me, her eyes fluttering, her consciousness failing her as she grappled with who I was and whatever horror she had just been through. I watched her slip back under, her breathing evening out, and I just leaned in, studying her with intense concentration. I would still be here when she woke, and she would finally tell me what the fuck was going on. Because there weren’t many coincidences in this world, and I was pretty fucking sure that the man who killed Talia was responsible for Jenny. He took what was mine. Talia was mine to kill.
