“You did it, Claudia. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Ignoring the thrilling sensation buzzing through my mouth, I shift my focus to the gun cabinet. It is full of the weapons every psycho loves: shot guns, standard black pistols, and enough tear gas to recreate the river that flowed from Cleo’s eyes when my knife pierced the meaty flesh in the lower half of her stomach. The image of her tear-stained face that night is one I’ll never forget. It was beautiful. Beyond perfect. One I’d give anything to witness time and time again.
My attention diverts from my cock-thickening daydream when the heavy stomp of boots bellow into my ears. The stomping stops a few hundred feet from our location, at the door we left unlocked. He’s standing outside my vacant room.
“Code 44,” screams a tormented voice only seconds later.
I recognize the snarl in an instant. It belongs to the same man who taunted me relentlessly only hours earlier.
“Let the drugs do the job, Dexter. You’ll need your energy when the sun goes down.”
“Do you prefer being topped or taken from the bottom? I guess it doesn’t matter as long as your ass is being invaded.”
“Only a few more hours until your nightmares come true.”
“I can’t wait to watch Bryce ride you like you’re a float in the Thanksgiving Day parade.”
“Once Bryce is finished with you, I’m going to do the same thing to your girlfriend.”
With the growl of a psychotic man, I snatch a black pistol from a stash of many, curl my arm around Claudia’s frantically heaving chest, then stand to my feet. Claudia’s heart thuds against my arm when the barrel of my pistol pinches the skin on her temple. Although I’d rather point my gun at the man rushing our way, this will do for now. Once my senses are no longer suffocated by locked doors and vented air, I’ll exact my revenge on the insolent man who believes he runs the show.
“Stay calm, Claudia, and you won’t get hurt. I promise you that.”
Although my promises are as worthless as the breaths that deliver them, this one I intend to keep. I’ve been seeking a way out of my predicament for years, so her assistance tonight ensures she’ll never be a discarded pawn on my chessboard.
The manic beat of Claudia’s pulse kicks out a new tune when Lee stops just outside the security office door. Her fear is felt from the strands of her hair to the tips of her toes. I shouldn’t relish her paralysis, but I do. It adds to the vigor thickening the air, giving it an edge my fried brain feeds off.
With one hand bracing the baton on his hip and the other clasping his two-way radio, Lee casually steps inside the security room. His pompous attitude doesn’t surprise me, but he’d be wise not to underestimate me. Even being doped up on a dangerous dose of hallucinogenic drugs hasn’t weakened my resolve in the slightest. If anything, they’ve made me more manic.
“Dexter—”
“Call in a false alarm. Tell them you were mistaken.” I nudge my head to his radio to amplify my request.
Lee smiles, loving the harsh slur of my voice. “I can’t do that. . .”
His words trail off when I dig my gun into Claudia’s temple, causing her to squeak. I don’t mean to hurt her; I’m just using her temple to hide how badly my hands are shaking. My entire body is tremoring as it fights not to shut down.
Stupidly believing my shaking is in fear, Lee drops his focus to Claudia. “It’s okay, Claudia. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
After issuing the rest of his false promise with only his eyes, Lee raises them to mine. He thinks his slick grin and boyish looks have Claudia fooled. He’s an idiot. I didn’t need to feel the response her body gave when he glanced at her to know she hates him. I can smell it in the air, taste it on my tongue. She’s calculating his demise as readily as I am, just like all good little psychos do.
“Let Claudia go, Dexter. She’s not a part of this—”
“She’s not a part of this?” I interrupt, my voice sterner than I anticipated. “Oh. Then what did you mean earlier when you said you’re going to fuck her the instant Bryce finished having his way with me? What did you say again? ‘You couldn’t wait to tear her up.’”
Claudia freezes for the quickest second. She’s not shocked by my revelation that Lee wants her beneath him—he’s made it more than obvious—it’s discovering pussy-footed Bryce is more fucked in the head than she is. He played the part of devoted warden/wanna-be-counselor the first two weeks. It all went downhill after that. He’s not just sadistic; he’s on the wrong side of the fence altogether. He and Lee should be patients at Meadow Fields, not staff.
Lee doesn’t attempt to hide the deceit in his eyes while replying, “You must have misunderstood what I said, Dexter. I’m an honorable married man. I have a daughter not much older than Claudia. I’d never hurt her.”
His lies fill me with a violent rage. I’m not the only one fuming. Claudia’s body temperature is rising as rapidly as my anger. Her teeth gnash together, their hearty grinds so compelling, the sweet scent of blood swamps my senses seconds later.
After a final whiff of the intoxicating smell, I return my focus to the task at hand. The slick grin on Lee’s face triples my agitation. He thinks he has all his ducks in a row, that I’m too spaced out on drugs to stay upright, much less act on his insolence.
I guess I better teach him a lesson.
With a grin of a man who has nothing to lose, I drag my pistol away from Claudia’s temple and point it at the pinched skin between Lee’s brows. For how hazy my vision is, my aim is scarily precise. One wrong move and he’ll be toast, and he knows it. The distress oozing from his pores is nearly as enticing as the smell of Claudia’s blood. If his earlier distress call didn’t leave me short of time, I’d relish his fear a little longer.
Instead, I say, “Call in a false alarm. Tell them you were mistaken, then I might let you live.” This demand is more violent than my first. I don’t like being treated like an idiot. But even more than that, I loathe authority with every fiber of my being, so you can be assured scum like Lee are at the very bottom of my totem pole when it comes to leniency.
