I drop my hand from her face as if it scorched me when a deep voice says, “Step back, Mr. Elias. We don’t touch people without permission. Bryce said you know that better than anyone.”
Lee laughs like he’s funny—like he isn’t five seconds from losing an eye. It’s a pathetic attempt to act as if he doesn’t want to beat me to a pulp for touching what hebelievesis his.
Lee is like all ill-informed men. He thinks machoism outranks intelligence. In some cases, it might, but nothing compares to deeply mind-fucking someone.
Not even real fucking can compare to that.
Deciding to test a theory, I say, “I wasn’t touching her without permission. She wanted my hands on her. She likes it. Don’t you, sweetheart? You love my big, strong fingers stroking that little freckle on the inside of your thigh.”
As the brunette’s eyes rocket to mine, her pupils expand into giant black orbs. She isn’t shocked about my finger’s figure-eight pattern on the silky-smooth skin high on her thigh. She’s stunned I am aware of the tiny dot generally hidden from view.
She shouldn’t be. I watched Cleo for months before I made contact, and although I have no intentions of playing the same game with this unnamed brunette, I need her to finish the one I started years ago, so I’ll monitor her just as closely. She may only be a pawn on my chessboard, but every piece has its place when it comes to the king’s entertainment.
The little skitzo’s eyes expand when Lee kneels in front of her. The longer his narrowed gaze takes in my stroking finger, the tighter his jaw becomes.
Confident I’ve got him where I want, I remove my hand from the silent little mouse’s thigh. Her disappointing whine is barely a whimper, but it doesn’t need to shatter my eardrums for me to know of its arrival. I can smell her arousal lingering in the air.
She wants my touch as much as Lee wants to cut my fingers off for touching her.
Incapable of harnessing his jealousy for a second longer, Lee asks, “Is that right, Claudia? Did you giveDexterpermission to touch you? Do you likehistouch?” He sneers my name the same way I do Marcus’s anytime I reference him.
Claudia remains quiet. She doesn’t need to answer Lee’s question for my unasked ones to be resolved, though. Lee’s reaction answered them on her behalf. He’s a rook who was just shadowed by a king. One wrong move, and he’ll be taken down.
Realizing we’re only at the beginning of our game, I jest, “I’m kidding, Lee. I didn’t ask permission. I just touched her. I couldn’t help it. I’m toey, and even fuckers like you who get to go home to a warm bed every night know what it’s like being locked up here for hours on end. Everyone gets a little edgy.”
Lee’s eyes drift to mine. They’re icy and lifeless, an exact replica of mine. “Then how do you know about the freckle on Claudia’s thigh?” His words sizzle out of his mouth, his anger both volatile and impish. He should never play poker. He’s too easy to read. He’d be flat broke before the second round, if not dead.
I lean in close to his side to ensure my words aren’t overheard. “I learned of its origin the same way you did.” I muster up a grin that warns his days are numbered. “We can look all we like… as long as we don’t touch. Am I right?”
My eyes lower to the gold band circling his finger to emphasize the words I can’t say.I’m watching you as much as I am her, motherfucker. I’ve seen you eye every female patient as if they’re selections on a menu. I’ve watched you lick the evidence from your fingers when you move from the female ward to the male’s. I know what you’re doing, how you are doing it, and when you’re fucking doing it, so maybe your focus should switch to something other than skirt-chasing before your fucked-up ideas on ‘helping the needy’ lose you more than your job. Your days are already numbered, Lee, but they diminish even more for every second you spend mocking me.
As if he heard my thoughts, Lee stands to his feet. He slides his hand into his trouser pocket to hide the wedding band that’s been on his finger so long, the skin beneath the gold is as white as his cheeks. He heard the threats I couldn’t vocalize. He feels the danger surrounding him. He’s just unsure if it’s one of mysupposedmultiple personalities speaking on my behalf or me.
One wrong move, and he’ll soon find out.
“As I said, Mr. Elias. We don’t touch without permission.” His calm and neutral voice impresses me. With how hard his thighs are shaking, I was anticipating an equally nervous reply. “Do it again and your privileges will be revoked.”
I hold my hands in the air, acting scared by his threat. The fucker should be grateful I’m playing nice today. If I weren’t in game mode, he’d be licking his blood off my boots.
Stupidly believing he has me backing away like a coward, Lee shifts his focus to Claudia. “Come on, Claudia. You’ve got a meeting with Mrs. Whitlock this afternoon, remember?” He nudges his head to one of the many exit doors of the rec room. It isn’t one that leads to the counselors’ offices. It is the female sleeping quarters.
Although I can feel Claudia’s wide eyes peering at me beneath a screen of dark hair, begging for me to intervene, she stands before shakily moving to the door Lee gestured to. Her steps are as cagey as the look she gave me when I touched her. I doubt Lee has the balls to put moves on her now that I’ve marked my territory. He merely wants her away from me.
He should. I’m dangerous. Not just to Claudia, but to him as well.
This afternoon’s foray went exactly as I anticipated, but Lee’s machoism is sparking a side of me I haven’t seen in years. I want the guards eating out of Claudia’s hand, which, in turn, will have them eating out of mine, but if they succumb to temptation too quickly, my entire plan will go to shit.
I need Claudia eating out of my hand before she consumes Lee’s dick. To do that, I need her to trust me, to believe I’ll place her safety above my own.
I won’t, but if she thinks she’s my equal, the less time she’ll glance over her shoulder, waiting for the inevitable stab in the back.
I played the same game with Cleo, the whole keep-your-friends-close-but-your-enemies-closer tactic. I’m still strategizing my next move in our drawn-out game, but there won’t be a game to finalize if I don’t get Claudia on my side.
Realizing what I must do, I stand from my chair and shout, “Hey, Lee!” My voice is loud enough to wake half the continent.
When he turns his massively dilated eyes to me, I scan the room, seeking something to use as a distraction. Upon spotting a set of exercise balls at my side, I secure one in my hand, then ask, “Wanna play catch?”
Not giving him the chance to respond, I peg the ball at his head. My years on the pitcher’s mound come in handy when the ball grazes his left ear before hitting the wall behind him with a loud thud.
